I narrowed my eyes. Hell, no. Christos was not dumping me because some old police chief or secret undercover security dude told him to. I was not having it.
I shook my head. “No. I don’t care what he says. You’re not breaking up with me. I won’t allow it.” I might have used my take-no-prisoners, quasi-mum voice on him, like I would with KC.
His chuckle was low and naughty. “I like you bossy. But I’m not going to break up with you.” He reached for my face and brushed his thumb over my lips. “I can’t give you up. We just need to lay low for a while.”
“Lay low? What does this entail exactly? Are you allowed to,” I coughed, glancing down the hall, lowering my voice on account of my sister, “sleep over?”
“No. Not if I follow the rule book to the letter. But undercover officers have a certain latitude, especially if they have to make decisions on the spot, or keep a witness on side.”
My mood brightened with the implications. A witness. Me. “Are you saying you have to pretend to seduce me to keep me as a happy witness?” I moved a little closer to him, tucking my legs up under me on the sofa.
Christos watched me closely, my bare legs in particular. His hand moved to the nape of my neck, running his fingers through my loose hair. “I have to pretend what we have is pretence. Only for a while.”
He’d lost me, with all the pretending talk. He wasn’t pretending to stroke the sensitive spot on the side of my throat. He didn’t pretend to lean over and press his mouth to mine.
Christos kissed my lips like his life hung in the balance, like he may never have another chance. I clung to his shoulders and held on tight.
He pulled away suddenly, breathing hard. “We have to keep this quiet at work, okay? For now. Once the investigation’s over, I’ll be out of the store and we can be together.”
“Hold on.” I raised my right hand in a stop-sign signal. There was a whole lot of information in those sentences. “You’re leaving the store?”
Of course I realised how silly I sounded as soon as I spoke. He was a cop, not a department store security guard. Real life would come knocking soon.
At least Christos didn’t make me feel silly. He pressed his forehead against mine. “I’ll be onto a new case soon, if we catch these guys. I might not be able to tell you what I’m working on. Not straight away.”
I sighed and pushed my hair behind my ears. “Okay. I get it. But will you stay with me tonight?” My voice was breathier than I’d intended.
Christos tightened his jaw until it clicked. “I’m sorry, I can’t. The team’s waiting for me.”
“Come into the bedroom. I’ll let you interrogate me,” I teased. I rose from the sofa and walked towards my room, putting a little extra sway in my step.
His low groan was music to my ears. He followed me into the hallway, but stopped short of my bedroom door. I stood in the doorway twirling the long belt of my robe. He had to know I was naked under the satiny fabric.
But my last-minute seduction attempt didn’t work. He backed away from me and blustered out the words, “I really have to go. Sorry.”
He kissed me on the cheek and was out the front door before I could even say goodnight.
Chapter Thirteen
Christmas Eve-Eve
Next morning, I grinned at my sister across the breakfast table, as shimmery summer light streamed in through the Venetian blinds and fell on the pine table. It was so good to have KC staying with me. No, she wasn’t just staying with me, she was living with me again.
I sipped my mug of coffee and she ate toast with Vegemite while she told me about her university course. “I think it’s going to be amazing. Some top artists and performers are college alumni. I’ll have to work hard on my portfolio. And I’ve already got a huge reading list of photography and art books for the summer.”
She was glowing. My little sister was excited and ready for this new challenge in her life. I couldn’t have been happier for her.
KC suddenly sat bolt upright, her eyes wide. “Oh, I forgot. A letter came for you. I had the mail held at the post office when I went to stay at the Martins’ house and I didn’t get it right away.” She dashed off to the living room and came back with her large handbag.
KC had been staying with her best friend Melanie Martin’s family for the past couple of months. Deidre Martin, Melanie’s mum, made sure KC was okay. Deidre was a supremely capable lawyer in her early 50s and a wonderful mother-figure. I was almost jealous of how Deidre treated KC like part of her family.
Now my sister was back at the table, rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a large envelope and handed it to me. “I don’t know what’s inside but it looks official. I didn’t open it.”
It did look official, scarily so. The name of a law firm was printed on the back and the return address was a Sydney office. I carefully opened it, trying not to tear the thick paper. Once I pulled out the letter inside, I unfolded it and began reading.
I felt my own eyes widen. An “Oooooh,” sound gushed from my lips.
“What is it? What does it say?” KC was leaning forward, trying to read through the paper.
My ears were ringing. I couldn’t process the words on the page. I read it through again, but it still didn’t compute. “Wow. I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting anything at all.”
I turned the letter over and passed it to KC to read for herself. It only took a few seconds. Her mouth popped open. “‘Wow’ is right!”
I took some deep breaths and decided what I had to do. “I’m calling Deidre for advice.”
WHEN I FINALLY ARRIVED at work for a midday start, it was all systems go. I worked hard, since the crowds of shoppers were thick now, with only a couple of days to go until Christmas. Even the reluctant older male shoppers were out, looking for easy gift ideas for wives and daughters.
I was preoccupied by the contents of the letter I’d received earlier. All I wanted to do was tell Christos, talk it over with him. But he was nowhere to be seen.
I didn’t see Christos for several hours.
In the end I stumbled across him when I took my dinner break. I was working until nine o’clock in the evening and I’d brought my own leftover pizza with me.
He was in the staff break room and he looked half dead, lying on one of the bench seats with his arm thrown over his eyes, as if to block out the light. Shirt untucked and wrinkled, hair tousled, jaw dark with the beginnings of five o’clock shadow. Basically, he was messily gorgeous.
I gently touched his arm, careful not to startle him if he was asleep. “Christos?”
He moved, blinking his eyes and propping himself up to half-sitting. “Lily? I...I must have fallen asleep. Dammit. I need to get going.” He tried to stand but as he placed some weight on his right leg, he faltered. He sank onto the seat again.
I sat down beside him. I wanted to climb into his lap and kiss him, but I restrained myself. Barely. “Are you all right? You look wrecked. Handsome, but wrecked.”
He glanced around the room. I guessed I wasn’t supposed to call him handsome at work, but we were alone. “It’s been busy. I worked through the night. We think something’s going down tomorrow. I can’t say much.”
I stared into Christos’s eyes for a beat or two. So many questions were on the tip of my tongue, and my news from the letter was burning a hole in my brain. But I couldn’t talk about any of it now. I smoothed my hands down my black skirt. I had to do something.
“Let me make you a coffee.” I headed over to the laminate bench defining the kitchenette area of the room, grabbing a mug from the overhead cabinets and firing up the mini espresso machine.
He called out across the room. “You don’t have to get me anything.”
I ignored him. I made the coffee because I wanted to. White with one. A warm glow spread through my chest because I knew how he liked his coffee. I added the spoon of sugar to the cup and stared at it.
Coffee making shouldn’t have that effect on me. The glowiness was al
l because of Christos, and my wanting to please him. I pressed my lips together, because it was blindingly obvious.
I loved him. I’d fallen in love with Christos. I hadn’t even been trying. I wanted to tell him, right that second. Because as Harry said to Sally, when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.
But what if the revelation, the shock, was too much? It was more than my mind could handle.
I turned to face Christos, who was sitting with his chin in his hands. I couldn’t speak. I grabbed the coffee I’d made him and walked like a robot to the other side of the room. I plonked the cup down on the table in front of him.
His expression softened. The look he shot me should have been illegal. My body heated and I wanted to kiss him, and tackle him to the ground. Get rid of all those useless clothes until he was gloriously naked.
Christos seemed to have an inkling of my thoughts. “Thanks, Lily.” His voice had deepened, pure passion laced with humour.
“I...I have to go!” I whirled around and headed for the door, forgetting about my pizza and leaving the man I loved sitting there staring at me walking away.
I had a Christmas present to buy. Maybe the most important one of my life.
Chapter Fourteen
Christmas Eve: Part One
Christmas Eve should have been merry and bright, preferably white. Instead, I woke to the sun streaming through the gap between my poor-quality cotton curtains, a blazing yellow hinting at more heat. I’d woken up sweating.
I’d been having a delicious and dirty dream. Christos and I were marooned on a Greek island without any clothes. It was just heating up (so to speak) when I blinked my eyes open. Dreamus interruptus. When I rolled out of bed, I sweated a little more. Seven in the morning and it was sticky already. And I missed Christos.
I pulled on my kimono, which had been hanging on the back of my bedroom door. I’d slept in only a cotton sheet and a hint of my favourite perfume dabbed on my pulse points.
I checked the weather forecast app on my phone. Horror! The temperature was predicted to hit thirty-nine degrees Celsius. Over a hundred degrees in the ‘old money’, as my gran would have said.
Urgh. This day would be the death of me. Well, maybe not death, but torture. I looked at the item of clothing hanging on my wardrobe door and grumble-sighed. It was a short dress of sorts, red velvet with long sleeves, trimmed with white fur. Not only was it a horrid design for my shape, but I’d have to suffer the indignity of dressing up as Sexy Santa, or maybe Mrs Claus with missing pants. It would be stifling to wear today.
The fabulous idea was courtesy of our store manager. He wanted everyone on the cosmetics floor dressed in costume for Christmas Eve. To be extra festive.
I couldn’t wear it walking down the street though. I’d have to take it with me and change when I got to work. I narrowed my eyes at the offending outfit as I stomped out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the kitchen.
The open plan kitchen/dining area lead through to the living room. As I stood at the counter, I spied KC standing in the corner of the living room. She was dressed in her more usual gear, denim shorts and a floaty red top. She was hanging shiny baubles on the six-foot-tall plastic fir tree in the corner of the room.
I’d had the Christmas tree up for over a week without actually decorating it. I couldn’t do it after coming home from work. I was nearly done in, mentally and physically. So it was great to see KC taking on the decorating task. It was homey somehow.
Ignoring my need for coffee, for now, I made my way across the living room to my sister’s side. She glanced at me over her shoulder, grinned and continued with her work. Now she was winding an armful of tinsel around the tree in great swathes.
KC waved vaguely around the room. “I thought we needed some Christmas cheer around here.” She turned and grabbed my arm. “What are we doing for Christmas Day? Should we have dinner at home? I can go shopping while you’re at work.”
Oh. I was a horrible person. I hadn’t even thought about it. I’d assumed Bill would be around and we’d do something simple, like lunch at the local pub. Now KC was here, I wanted to do something more special.
Picking up a bauble from the box on the floor, I hung it on the tree. “Let’s do a nice dinner at home. We don’t need a turkey, but maybe seafood, or chicken with salads? And dessert. I think Pavlova is in order.”
KC jumped up and down. “Oh, yes. Pav, and those little chocolate ball things Dad used to make. I’ll make a list!” She dashed off to grab her phone, tapping out reminders in her shopping-list app.
I picked up a shoebox full of ornaments and whipped off the lid, expecting to see more gaudy baubles like the scarlet and emerald glittery ones on the tree. What I found was something else entirely. A treasure. Mum’s ornaments from when we were little—a silver angel figurine and two tiny heart-shaped photo frames holding pictures of both me and KC as babies.
I gulped back a sob as I removed them from the tissue paper inside the box. I placed the angel on the table nearby, and raised the two photos, dangling by the golden threads attached. KC faced me now, her face pale. She reached for her own image and carefully took it from me.
KC’s voice cracked as she spoke. “How did they end up here?”
“I suppose Bill got some of Dad’s stuff when he...” I didn’t say any more. I couldn’t. I shut my eyes tight.
My sister hugged me this time, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “It’s going to be a good Christmas. Don’t worry.”
I nodded against her shoulder, hoping she was right.
BEFORE I COULD ENJOY Christmas Day with KC, I had to get through the rest of Christmas Eve. I arrived at work a touch before eight in the morning, and the store was already open. Jingle Bell Rock pumped relentlessly through the store’s speakers.
Lost souls wandered through the aisles like someone had opened the gates of hell. Or forgotten to close the gates last night, more likely. The store had been open for the infamous twenty-four-hour, round-the-clock trade. An extremely drunk couple lolloped past me as I crossed the floor heading for the perfume counter. They looked the worse for wear and I’d lay bets they’d been shopping and drinking through the night. Great for the store’s profits, not so great for the staff.
“Heads up, Santa’s already here!” shouted the woman, pointing at me with a bony finger outstretched. “Nah, it’s one of Santa’s slutty helpers.” She crashed into her boyfriend, slapping his back. They both burst into raucous laughter.
I glanced down at my ridiculous outfit. She was right. The look had veered away from wholesome and verged on Santa’s naughty calendar-girl assistant. I sighed and kept walking. At least my favourite scarlet high heels would give me good-looking legs.
I strode to my counter, keeping my head held high in my Santa hat with the little bell, jingling all the way. Three staff were on deck, all exhausted. Giselle leaned one elbow on the counter. She was also wearing her silly costume. The others, Gillian and a casual girl, Davina, with the greenest cat-like eyes (possibly contacts), were stuck wearing the full-body onesies and reindeer antlers. Honestly, I was one of the lucky ones.
“Good morning,” I chirped in a sing-song voice. I wanted to inject some positivity into the team, jingling as I moved behind the counter.
Giselle snorted. “It is morning, but I would not say it is good. C’est la vie.”
Right. Judging by the bags under the other two women’s eyes, the night shift had been trying. “Who needs a break?” All three women stuck their hands in the air. “Um, Giselle, you’re due to go home at nine. Grab a coffee and come back in fifteen minutes. Then you ladies can take turns.”
Everyone nodded. Giselle slunk away, tearing off her Santa hat from her head as she went.
A rush of customers started and didn’t stop until lunchtime. Another casual staff member joined our team, spritzing a perfume we wanted to sell-out before Christmas. Her name was Xanthe. She
was short, dark and bouncy from her black curly hair to her sparkly shoes. She was doing a fabulous job being chatty.
“Experience the warm scent of gardenias and lily of the valley.” Xanthe beamed and passed out pre-sprayed sample cards to passing customers. “I know you’ll love it.”
I was busy serving a mature gentleman who was alarmingly orange. I’m not one to make judgements, but I think he’d either eaten too many carrots or swallowed a bunch of self-tanning pills. In any case, I was afraid he was radioactive.
I ducked below the counter to pull two gift sets out of the glass-fronted cabinet. I stood up and placed them in front of him. “This one is lovely. It’s a sophisticated Parisian scent with a top note of peony and a base note of lavender. The eau de parfum is the concentrate, so it lasts longer on the skin. It’s great value combined with the free gift.”
He nodded, then pointed to the other set. “What about this one?”
“It’s perhaps suited to a younger woman, because it’s a fun, flirty scent with a hint of apple and citrus. The shower gel is a perfect travel size for the holidays too.”
I passed him a sample card of each fragrance, since he didn’t want me spritzing his skin. Once he’d inhaled them both, he broke into a broad grin. “I’ll take them both. One for wifey, one for the girl on the side, if you get my meaning.”
“Haha,” I laughed in a rather forced way, taking the credit card he thrust towards me and turning away.
Spare me from the philandering older men who thought they were Casanovas. I was constantly amazed they thought I’d find them hilarious.
“Wrap ‘em up pretty, would you, sweetheart?”
“Of course, sir.”
I wrapped, sticky-taped and be-ribboned like a professional, and completed the transaction with a smile. Because I only had a few more hours until I could go home.
Heart Note Page 11
