Christmas in Cactus Flats and Other Holiday Romances

by Laura Briggs

  The look in his eyes was almost as compelling as physical touch. Despite herself, Rae shivered. “There’s nothing there but your imagination, Simon,” she answered. Her eyes broke away from his, looking anywhere but at his face. “All that happened was your ego boarding a runaway train.”

  “You think that was all about my ego, Rae?” he snapped. “Let’s talk about your ego for a change. Let’s talk about the way you treated our partnership like a competition. Like I was a threat to your career the whole time I was there.” Emotion crackled in his voice with each word.

  “Maybe it’s because you spent the whole time jockeying for first place,” she shot back. “You kept pushing closer, pushing me out of the picture.” There was no escape from the flames she felt consuming her cheeks as she remembered the tension in their partnership. She hoped Simon would read contempt into her blush instead of something deeper. Something she was afraid to admit.

  Simon was silent for a moment. “Did you ever think that maybe I pushed because I wanted to be near you?”

  His words shocked her. Her heart fluttered in her chest like a bird desperate to escape its cage. His fingers gripped the frame of her door as if clinging for life as he waited for her response.

  Taking a moment to control her emotions, she answered quietly. “I think you should go before we both say something we regret.”

  He opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut. With a final glance, he turned away. She shut the door and leaned against it, eyes closed. Listening to the sound of his footsteps echoing in the stairwell as he walked away.

  She didn’t know what hurt more: finally closing the book on their relationship or knowing that she had just burned the last bridge behind her. Perhaps what hurt the most was the look in his eyes just before he walked away. As if she had crushed his heart between her fingers.

  *****

  “Thanks for joining us, folks, for the Early Bird Special.”

  Simon faced the camera with what he hoped was a smooth persona that never hinted at last night’s conflict. “For a copy of today’s cherry surprise recipe, drop us an email using our special link on the station’s website.” He shuffled and restacked his notes, his personal signal that he was finished.

  “Ooops, looks like you’re forgetting something, Simon.” Andrea’s toothpaste smile was spread evenly across her face. “Don’t forget, everyone, tune in tonight at six o’ clock to see Simon in his first-ever appearance as parade host for the Silver Star Christmas Parade!”

  She purred as she flashed Simon a wicked smile. “He’ll be co-hosting with Morning Star Radio’s own Rae Randall, so tune in to see a reunion between Silver Star’s two favorite celebrities.”

  Simon resisted the urge to strangle her as the broadcast drew to a close. Tossing his notes into the wastebasket, he marched offstage towards his dressing room. He could hear the sound of Andrea snickering behind him.

  “...then he shoved her right into Santa’s roof!” A high-pitched nasal laugh followed these words, a sign that Andrea’s listener was the station makeup artist. Simon slammed the door of his dressing room to cover the sound.

  Burying his face in his hands, he exhaled a deep breath. How could he be so stupid last night? Showing up at Rae’s apartment like that, trying to explain something that happened over two years ago. As if he could explain that relationship in ten minutes or less.

  It was obvious that Rae didn’t believe he felt an attraction to her. She thought he was just an egotistical snake bent on escaping a two-bit town for something bigger. Until now, he had convinced himself she knew the real reason for their breakup.

  Not only did she not realize the reason, she was obviously offended by the whole idea. He had fooled himself into believing that there was a mutual spark between them, causing the tension and strife that drove them both crazy. Turns out it was only my problem.

  He glanced at the clock. Only eight hours until he was due at the parade site. The place he would be forced to face Rae one last time. Then it would be over and they could go their separate ways.

  Squaring his jaw, he grabbed his coat and practiced a quick smile in front of the mirror. Lunch with the mayor was on the schedule, along with a local charity drive. No time for dwelling on memories of what might have been.

  *****

  No matter what anyone told Rae, she knew the worst was yet to come. As much as she’d like to think that it would all be over in a few hours—and Simon Harte would be out of her life forever—she knew a terrible price had to be paid to make it possible.

  “Stop making it sound like the guillotine,” Tippy scolded. “And stop moving around so much or I’ll never finish fixing your hair.” She jabbed a hairpin impatiently into Rae’s updo.

  “It’s two hours trapped with him, Tippy. Can’t you just lock me in a closet somewhere and tell them I’ve been kidnapped?” Rae moaned. “It was humiliating enough what happened at the float warehouse. And that was before he came to my apartment.”

  “Maybe if you’d let him explain, he’d leave it alone.”

  Rae was silent on this point. She wasn’t eager to share the idea Simon hinted at. Her feelings were her personal business and Simon had no right suggesting he could read her emotions like a book. Suggesting that’s what drove him away was even worse.

  She yanked the hairbrush away from Tippy and swept up the second half of curls. “Simon is just a bigger jerk than I care to spend my evening with,” she answered. “And definitely a bigger jerk than I would want to host a parade with. Got it?”

  The parade route began in front of the school basketball gym, which was where the hosts were supposed to meet and review the script. There would be a quick photography session shaking hands with the mayor and members of the city council. Then she and Simon would be left alone together. Trapped at a desk the size of a ping-pong table, with a camera trained on them every second of the hour.

  Rae mentally reviewed her plan for staying sane as she trotted past rows of elaborate floats and performers in costume waiting for the start. The school marching band blared out a few half-hearted trombone notes in deafening practice as she squeezed between the Alice in Wonderland float and the classic car for the spelling bee winner.

  “Rae Randall! Over here!” A man she recognized as Jerry Illis, the manager of KTRP, beckoned her over. Behind him was Simon, in a dark grey suit and brown trench coat. His five o’ clock shadow caught her eye, along with the cocky smile that dissolved the moment he spotted her.

  “Miss Randall, I’m sure you’ve met Mayor Douglas a time or two...” As Jerry’s voice droned on, she found herself pressing hands with the mayor. All the while, her gaze was trained on Simon with a painful awareness that she should look away. Something in his face kept her attention—was it the lack of arrogance, perhaps?

  “I’m sure you two have been over the script a million times, but if you want to run through it once more we can postpone the photos until afterwards.” The mayor’s words snapped Rae back to the present.

  “No, let’s take them now,” she answered, giving the mayor a brilliant smile. Deliberately turning her back on Simon, she waved at the cluster of businessmen who helped finance the parade.

  “Smile, people,” the photographer droned as he squinted through the lens. He had posed them in front of the school’s float, a giant paper mache reindeer constructed by the junior high and high school students.

  To Rae’s fury, Simon had insisted upon assuming the pose they shared for the promotional photos. His body was pressed against hers, one hand intertwined with her fingers while the other rested on her shoulder. Close enough that she could smell the scent of soap and shaving cream.

  “You could give me a little space,” she hissed.

  She heard him stifle a cough; or was it a laugh? “If that’s what you really want, why don’t you just run away, like you did the other day?”

  Without thinking, she brought the point of her high-heeled shoe down on his foot. He let out a stifled howl of pain jus
t as the photo snapped.

  “Perfect,” said the photographer.

  *****

  The broadcast booth for the parade was on a platform erected a few yards from the start line. Two matching rolling chairs were pushed up to the microphone, two separate earpieces ready for the hosting duo. They would switch periodically to Dizzy Dan, the evening weatherman whose nickname was derived from his city days in above-ground traffic reporting.

  Rae plopped down in her seat and adjusted the piece in her ear. She avoided looking at her co-host on the right, who flipped open his script casually.

  He cleared his throat. “So, you want to trade a little banter before this thing starts?”

  “About what?” she asked. “What a diva I am? Or maybe about that irresistible charm you possess.” The look she shot him was enough to silence any further conversation.

  The cameraman adjusted his angle as the director gave them the signal: five minutes to air. The faint sound of the high school band drifted from a distance. Hands trembling, Rae closed her eyes and imagined her confidence back in place. Be enthusiastic, be smiling.

  She turned towards Simon one last time. His brooding stare was directed at the street below until he felt her gaze.

  “Don’t mess this up for me,” she pleaded.

  He looked into her eyes and nodded. “Sure thing.” Like a switch flicking to “on”, the director gave them the signal.

  “Good evening and welcome to Silver Star’s forty-second annual Christmas parade! I’m your host tonight, Rae Randall from Morning Star’s favorite morning radio show...”

  “And I’m your other host for the evening. Simon Harte, from KTRP’s Early Bird morning lineup.” Simon’s smile was perfectly polished for this on-camera experience, something which never ceased to amaze Rae.

  “First up, is The Shoe, courtesy of the Silver Star middle school art class,” Rae began, keeping her eyes trained on the camera. “Looks like they’ve done a beautiful job this year, Simon.” With a big smile for her partner’s benefit as she turned towards him.

  “Absolutely. And as if that’s not enough, some of the students are riding aboard in costume. I see more children than the Old Woman aboard knows what to do with, Rae.”

  “The Old Woman aboard the float is no other than Mrs. Angela Fisher, the class’s art teacher,” Rae trilled in response. “This is her third year to appear in the Silver Star parade aboard her class’s float. Looks like another triumph for Silver Star’s always-spectacular middle school art program.”

  They kept it up for the high school football team’s appearance, the space rocket float, and the Humpty Dumpty who marched with Mother Goose and friends. Rae felt her smile growing thin. Every time she turned towards Simon, he flashed her a grin more insincere than the last one. She felt mocked by his attitude, fueling her irritation.

  “Up next, we have the Veteran’s Hall tribute to military pride—an eagle constructed from recycled paper courtesy of the local business paper drive.” Simon’s voice held a note of suppressed emotion as he rolled out the script without missing a beat.

  “What a beautiful float design,” Rae said, aware of a slight tremor in her tone. “Do I detect the handiwork of the Silver Star art colony?”

  “You sure do, Rae. Along with volunteers from local veterans’ groups and the local military recruitment office.” He turned from Rae to the camera. “And with that, folks, it’s time for a quick commercial break. Don’t go away—we’ll be right back.”

  The moment they were off-air, Rae slumped in her seat, biting her thumbnail. Over half an hour to go. Could she make it that long? She checked her watch, calculating the exact minutes left of pretending to like Simon.

  “I’m trying to be nice,” Simon interrupted her thoughts. “You don’t have to make it seem like we’re locked in a cage together.”

  “That’s what we are, aren’t we?” she said. “A tiny little booth with only two big scripts to occupy our minds. I’m pretty sure they won’t let us out until seven.”

  Simon rolled his eyes. “This, from a woman who claims she’s not a diva, but can’t endure more than thirty minutes without thinking about herself.”

  Rae spun her chair to face him. “Since you specialize in self-absorption, I guess you’re qualified to recognize the signs.” She slammed her script shut. “It’s nice to know that no matter how far you go in life, you just can’t erase the past.”

  “Even now, you can’t let go of what happened between us,” Simon argued. “Is it just because of the career, Rae? Or is it something else?”

  He leaned closer to her, emphasizing each word. “I think you were glad to see me go. Glad you didn’t have to shove me out first.” His words dared her to make something of them and before she realized what she was doing, she took the bait.

  The director gave the “one minute” signal, but Rae didn’t care.

  “Just who shoved whom, buddy?” she snarled. “I’m pretty sure the one who walked out the door was you. At least I was the one everyone talked about at the station when you broke our contract and didn’t show up for work that day.”

  “I didn’t show up because I didn’t think you wanted me there!” His voice rose with anger. “You didn’t leave me a choice, Rae.”

  Her mouth was agape with shock as she fumbled for a reply. The director hissed at them as he gave the signal for commercial’s end.

  Rae’s face was still burning with rage as she forced herself to smile. “And we’re back for the second half of the annual Silver Star Christmas Parade. Next up is the Barnum High Marching Band.”

  “What do you say we go to Dizzy Dan for an on-the-spot report this time?” suggested Simon. It was fifteen minutes early, but the director took the hint. A split second later, Dan’s surprised face appeared for viewing audiences.

  Rae yanked her earpiece out and tossed it on the desk. “I guess this time I won’t have to give you the signal, will I?” She turned and marched down the platform’s steps before he could say anything.

  She heard his footsteps pounding down the stairs behind her as she picked up the pace.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  “I’m taking a break. Kind of like you did when you quit the station,” she answered. Marching past a handful of watchers gathered at the base of the platform, she made her way towards the parking lot.

  Simon’s powerful grip wrapped itself around her arm. “Don’t even think about walking out on this, Rae.”

  “Who are you to tell me what to do?” Fighting back angry tears, she struggled to pull away from him as he steered her through the crowd, into a concessions tent nearby.

  “Stop trying to run away from me,” he ordered.

  Rae pulled away from his arm and moved to the other side of the table, keeping a steaming vat of hot chocolate between them. “Wouldn’t you prefer to have the parade all to yourself? No competition between partners, since I know how much you hate it.”

  He moved around the table, closing the distance between them. “I don’t hate competition, Rae. I hated being your competitor. I hated the way you kept that distance between us the whole time we were partners.”

  “Did it ever occur to you I kept that distance to protect myself?” she asked. “After all, you were constantly changing the show and arguing about our work. Maybe it was for the best that I kept you at bay, since it turns out I was just another rung on your ladder to success.” Try as she might, she couldn’t help the tears that gathered in her eyes.

  “I never wanted to leave the radio show,” he said. “I only left it because of how I felt...because of how you didn’t feel.” He avoided her eyes, staring at the tent floor instead.

  “I wish you would stop talking about my feelings,” she retorted, her face growing warm again. “I think this little problem was all yours, Simon.”

  “I know,” he shot back. “Do you have to keep reminding me that I was stupid enough to be in love with you?”

  His response left her breathless. Ey
es widening, she stared at him in disbelief.

  “You weren’t in love with me,” she answered, helplessly. “All that sniping...”

  “You and I both know the reasons behind that tension,” he interrupted. “The reasons we pretended every little spat was about the show was to cover up for the moments that weren’t about the show.”

  His eyes met hers, his dark glance smoldering as he drew closer. “If you had ever given me an opening to tell you how I felt, I would have stayed,” he whispered. “But I couldn’t go on with things the way they were. I know you didn’t feel it in return—”

  “That’s not true.” She couldn’t fight the tears any longer. “I just didn’t want to be the only one who felt it.” She reached across and touched his face.

  “That makes two of us,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her. As their lips met, she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him against her so no more space remained between them.

  *****

  “And we’re back, folks.” Rae’s voice held a cheery sound that she wasn’t faking this time. “Thanks again to Dizzy Dan for those amazing reports from the crowd.”

  “What’s in store for us next, Rae?” Simon glanced at her, a teasing question in his eyes.

  She grinned. “Well, it looks like we’re just in time for Christmas. Because unless I’m mistaken, that’s Santa and his reindeer Up on the Rooftop.”

  “It certainly is,” he answered, with a subtle wink for her benefit. “I guess all we’re missing now is a little snow on the ground—and a little mistletoe.”

  Despite the presence of the camera, Rae couldn’t help but let her cheeks flush. “I’m sure next year, they’ll be sure to include those extras in the parade,” she quipped. “Until then, folks, Merry Christmas from all of us at the Silver Star Christmas Parade!”