Falling By Firelight (Christmas Romance)

by Rose Ivory

  Nothing could possibly require more of her headspace, more of her focus, than the holiday rush. Definitely not the neighborhood asshole.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  KATE FLIPPED THE switch and the store sparkled to life. From the warm overhead lighting to the endless rows of string lights that swathed the room, the effect was palpable. She grinned, her crimson lipstick arching artfully up as she did.

  This is what Christmas is meant to feel like. Kate pushed a button and a jolly instrumental score began to play. She walked behind the counter, swaying to the rhythm, doing her best to prepare. Mentally and emotionally. There were sure to be a lot of strong personalities coming in today. The only way to face them with a smile was to stay centered. Stay in her happy place. Taking a seat behind the counter, she shifted her weight forward to her elbows, propped up her chin with her hand. Through the storefront, she could already see the crowd beginning to grow. The casual foot traffic that would soon become more and more manic. At least I’m out of the cold for a while, she thought.

  At the approach of a bustling, busty woman, Kate’s heart sank. The tightly tied houndstooth trench might as well have been an omen. A warning shot. The door swung open with the tinkling of a bell.

  “Kate!”

  A toothy smile plastered across her face. “Mrs. Thomas.” Kate rose, making her way around the counter to greet the woman with a hug. “How truly wonderful to see you.”

  Mrs. Thomas batted her thickly clumped lashes, tucking her chin demurely. Even as a grandmother, grown softer with age, she retained her inner debutante. “You had to be expecting me, dear,” she drawled. “It is about that time.”

  “Indeed it is.” Kate clapped her hands together, rubbing her palms before the artful rendering of a reindeer that adorned the center of her sweater. “What’s your list looking like this year?”

  The woman pulled a sharply folded piece of stationary from her jacket pocket. Kate’s heart sank deeper, aching, as Mrs. Thomas unfolded the paper with leather-gloved hands. “It looks like on the acquaintance level we’ll need 15 kitschy, personally-tailored items around $40. Then we’ve got the 6 dear lady friends, which we’ll place around $100 each.” The woman chuckled, a melodious kind of laugh that Kate knew couldn’t possibly be real. “That’ll be quite the haul for you then when you’re done with me, won’t it dear?”

  Kate nodded slowly, projecting an enthusiasm that she certainly didn’t feel. “Incredible for me, of course. Though I have to warn you, Mrs. Thomas, for 15 under 40—”

  “Around 40, dear,” the woman quipped. Her voice was like a paring knife smothered in honey. A frightening mix of sharp and sweet. “Ronald’s had a good year at the firm. We certainly aren’t struggling.”

  “Oh no,” Kate backpedaled, her insides feeling silvery and cold. “That’s not anything I meant to insinuate. I just wanted to make sure you knew that if we’re aiming to choose only unique gifts, it might be hard to ensure that 15 different items are available in that price range.” She glanced around at the gleaming displays of homewares and tchotchkes. There were definitely more than 15 options for that price, all items that she’d painstakingly chosen. Kate’s ability to curate was one of her greatest strengths. But she also knew who she was dealing with. And exactly how particular her taste was.

  “Well you know I never repeat a gift, Kate,” Mrs. Thomas extolled. She began to stroll the aisles, Kate keeping pace a few steps behind. “I can’t exactly be known as someone who buys in bulk.”

  The muscles in Kate’s jaw tightened. “Of course not. And I’m here to help, however I can.”

  The woman smiled and pressed her cool gloved palm against Kate’s cheek. Though her discomfort was very real, she didn’t lean away. “That’s why we shop local, my dear. The wonders of customer service and all that.”

  Kate widened her smile, allowing the gnawing dread in her core to do its worst. After all, if the day was starting out with her most difficult regular, then it could only be uphill from here. “Well, Mrs. Thomas, I’m all yours.”

  “I just don’t know about this diffuser.” The way that Mrs. Thomas spoke, it was as if every word was linked. Strung together. Whenever she was trying to make a decision, or stewing on something, her syllables became longer. After an hour and a half of nitpicking through every item in the store together, the drawn out sounds thudded against Kate’s ears. They elicited a dull pain which she could never hope to put into words. It was simply the Mrs. Thomas Effect. “I think it might be a little bit tacky, you know?”

  Do I know? Kate’s hands clenched, forming claws that made her gift wrapping nearly impossible. I found the artisan, picked the most stunning model they had, worked for weeks to solidify a deal with them that was mutually beneficial, and do I know that it’s tacky? Tersely, she wound a gauzy ribbon around the small package in her mangled grasp. After picking out the first seven or so items, her patron had conceded to allow her to wrap while they worked on choosing the rest. At least she could multitask her misery.

  “I think it’s nice, Mrs. Thomas. But then, that’s just one woman’s opinion.” And why do I have to call you Mrs. Thomas? I’m a grown woman. I’m not your lady maid, member of a lower social strata, here to serve and cow-tow. She wrenched the ribbon into a multi-looped bow. We’re both adults, for Pete’s sake.

  “Hmmm. I just don’t know.” The woman shook her head, the patterned turban sheathing her white bob glistening in the perfect, ambient light. Light so powerful and soothing, but no longer bringing Kate any sense of peace. “I mean, Barbara is,” she leaned over the counter, adopting a whisper, “over 60 years old.”

  “I see,” Kate replied, nodding sagely.

  “At that age, there’s a certain level of refinement that you just can’t ignore. One must keep their choices up to that level. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “How could I not?” As Kate moved with such irritated focus that her hands began to shake, the door swung open with the sounding of the bell. Turning to the new arrival, she almost dropped her ribbon to the counter in disbelief.

  There at the threshold were asshole neighbor and his daughter. Though the girl didn’t stay in the doorway for more than a second. She pealed through the store, wondering aloud at the festive displays. The man stayed put. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but didn’t. Just stared at her. And she stared back.

  “Kate, my dear?” Still taking in the arrival, Kate blankly swiveled her head back to Mrs. Thomas. She found her in the midst of polite recoil. “Maybe we should take a wee break? So you can help your other customers.” Her watery eyes narrowed on the girl as she spoke, watching her every move with the same precise awareness that one might utilize to keep track of a rabid raccoon.

  She doesn’t like kids, Kate realized, oh my god. Oh my GOD! This whole time, all I’ve needed to do is call in a backup kid and every single shopping trip would be wrapped up in half the time? The nagging, the needling, cut down just because of a freaking kid? Blinking any surprised from her face, Kate gave a warm, genuine smile to her regular. “You wouldn’t mind?” she asked, candy-coating the question.

  “Me? Mind?” The woman scoffed, swiftly retying her coat as she spoke. “You know I’m easygoing dear.”

  “I do,” Kate cooed, lights returning to her eyes as Mrs. Thomas sped toward the door.

  “That’s the only way to keep the heart disease under control, you know. Anywho.” She nodded at Kate, then to the man, who lingered by the door. It seemed she hadn’t really seen him before, the way her eyes widened as she took him in now. Kate could swear she even caught a quivering lip. Dear God, Mrs. T, he’s not that good-looking. The older woman quickly regained her senses.“I’m off!” she chirped and glided out the door. At its closing click, Kate felt as if a leaden blanket had been lifted from its drape over her heart. She felt taller. Lighter.

  Guess he’s not all bad, she thought.

  Then Kate shifted her attention to the bundle of energy blazing through her store. She walk
ed over to where the girl stood wondering at her small silver Christmas tree, keenly aware of the father’s eyes on her. “Hey there, I’m Kate.” She bent at the waist and extended a hand to the child.

  Beaming, the little girl took her hand and gave it a hearty shake. “I’m Maggie.”

  “Well that’s a beautiful name!”

  “I know,” the girl quipped. Kate raised an amused brow and turned to the man, forgetting for just a moment that he probably wasn’t the type to share her amusement with. Sure enough, he was staring back at her with nothing resembling a smile. OK, great. One pain for another. I’m really batting 1,000 today. Choosing to ignore the man altogether in favor of his daughter, she met the girl’s bright blue eyes with a conspiratorial look.

  “Are you shopping for a present?” she asked.

  Maggie nodded emphatically. “And it’s a toughie.”

  Kate arched up a dark brow. “Why’s that?”

  “Because she has impeccable taste.” Her reply was so matter-of-fact that Kate had to laugh in spite of herself.

  “She’s heard her mother say that about herself.” The man’s deep, smooth voice wafted over to her. Kate cast him a sideways glance, refusing to commit to a full engagement this time, and found that he seemed more relaxed now. Or at least less cold. “Maggie is here to pick out her mother’s present. And she’s adamant that I do not get to help.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes in a grand half-circle. “Like you want to help.” She leaned closer to Kate, dipping her chin and lowering her voice. “He totally doesn’t.”

  Kate’s smile grew. “Well, if you’d like a partner, I’m more than happy to help you find something for your mom.”

  “That would be good,” the girl agreed. Straightening up and joining her hands behind her back, Maggie began to pace the store. Kate watched her, mesmerized. She’d never seen a child with such preternaturally adult tendencies before. She switched between adolescent and aged gestures with remarkable ease. “I was thinking jewelry, but dad says someone else is already getting her jewelry.”

  Cute, Kate thought, sarcasm dripping from her inner voice. Way to call dibs on a whole category of gift when your kid wants to do the same thing. What kind of a weirdo is this guy? “I see,” she replied, keeping her tone unaffected. “I don’t stock any jewelry here, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Do you have any idea what else you might like to get her?”

  “Well, she cares a lot about what kind of light there is,” the girl recounted. “She hates overheads and fluorescents, though a chandelier is an overhead that’s usually OK. So I thought maybe a lamp?”

  This family gives eccentric a whole new meaning, thought Kate. “We have plenty of lamps. Shall we go look?” She opened an arm toward the back of the store and the girl hopped up and down in place. Just like that, a kid again.

  “Yes, let’s go!” she chirped. “And I like your sweater. It’s Christmasy, but still elegant.”

  As Kate stifled a chuckle, the voice came from close behind her. “It really is nice.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. The muscles of her core tightened, torqued. Turning slowly, she found herself face-to-face with asshole neighbor. Up close, in the closed space of the boutique, she could smell him. Musky and woody and something else so earthy and rich that it touched her deep inside. Made her inner thighs tense. “Thank you,” she choked out, then turned and headed back to the shelving unit where most of her lamps were on display. Maggie was already eyeballing a fixture with a plum shade. It had a fringe trim that made the piece look decidedly decadent.

  “This one is probably the best,” the girl said. Her whitish blonde brows were furrowed at the center of her face, illustrating her severe scrutiny.

  “The best?” Kate asked.

  “Mhm. Your best lamp.”

  Kate bit her lip to keep from giggling. When she looked to the father, his eyes glinted the same repressed laughter. Their molten honey warmed her from the inside out. Stop it. Stop forgetting he’s married. Swallowing the melting sensation, Kate held her head high and asked, “Would that go?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “With the decor?” She opened her arms in something like a shrug. “I’d think you’d want it to complement a room as it is now, if—“

  “Oh,” he cut in, his voice just slightly edged, “I wouldn’t know.”

  Caught off guard by his shift back to standoffish, she nodded slowly. “Right.” She turned to the shelf to retrieve the lamp for Maggie. So another Cro Magnon. Can’t bear to even have an opinion on the interiors of his own home. Too bad. If he were a little bit more evolved—Married! Married married married. Kate offered the lamp to Maggie, who delicately took it in her small hands. She tilted it this way and that, then set it on the ground for support and ran her hand through the hanging fringe.

  “Seems quality,” she murmured to herself.

  “Is that a yes?” Kate asked.

  Maggie crossed her slight arms over her chest and gave one firm nod. “Yes.”

  Kate cleared her throat. “Dad?” She kept her eyes just slightly too low to meet his.

  “It’s Nolan, actually.” At this, she let him capture her gaze once more. Just for a moment.

  “Well, Nolan?” she prompted, hands clasped against her ribs. Like a reminder to breathe.

  “If Maggie’s happy, then we’ll take it.”

  Maggie groaned. “I’ll take it.”

  “Right you are, kiddo.” So smooth it seem inhuman, he sent Kate a wink. A quick, clean, alarming wink.

  Kate cleared her throat and retrieved the lamp from the floor. “That’s great,” she said as she moved, not breaking pace for a moment as she beelined to the counter. Pulling out the proper box and wrapping materials, her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She steadied herself through meticulous packing. Clearly the amount of care she projected was enough to grant her some space, as Maggie and Nolan set about having their own hushed conversation several yards away.

  When she placed the package on the counter, filled with protective peanuts and glistening with metallic paper, they made their way over. Kate kept a firm grasp on her state of calm as she rang them up. At the total, Maggie held a credit card up to the counter. She couldn’t quite reach across it, so Kate leaned down to take the payment from the child. That is one cute kid, she thought as she charged the sale.

  “And you’re Kate?” Nolan asked. A tightness in her chest, she slid the receipt across the shining gray tile for him to sign.

  “You remembered that from Elena yelling at you on the street?” she asked. “Impressive.”

  “That, and you introduced yourself to Maggie just now.”

  Her cheeks flooded with color. “Right. Yes I did.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Maggie’s eyes narrowed, shifting back and forth between her father and the shopkeeper.

  Kate opened her mouth to answer, but got stuck. What do I even say? I met your daddy on the sidewalk when he and my best friend got in a crazy screaming match? This girl can’t even be eight yet.

  Nolan stepped in, much to her relief. “Kate is our new neighbor.”

  “Really?” Maggie squealed. “Is that why we came here?”

  “Oh, no, that wouldn’t have…” As he trailed off, the corners of Kate’s red pout crept up in a bleak smile. That’s right, there you are, asshat. And the whole sweet dad thing almost made me forget ya. “This is a surprise,” he continued. “It seems like we just can’t stop running into each other. Or rather, seeing each other.”

  At “seeing,” the knot returned to her stomach. The same dread as from the morning. As if now, here, in her own shop, he’d somehow caught her anew. The familiar urge to crash to the ground, out of sight, returned. Even though it couldn’t possibly work and clearly had only made things more embarrassing the first time around.

  “It’s definitely a funny little problem,” Kate found herself saying in her iciest voice. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

&n
bsp; An unreadable look crossed Nolan’s face. “We will.” Briskly, he signed the receipt and slid it back toward her. Mid-delivery, his broad hand drew her attention. Not for its size or obvious strength, but for its lack. Lack of a ring. “Thank Kate for all her help, Maggie,” he said, lifting the package from the counter.

  The seriousness returned to the girl’s rosy face. “Thank you very much for your assistance, Kate. I look forward to being neighbors.”

  “Me too, hon,” she replied. Her smile was Maggie’s, but her eyes were Nolan’s, trailing after him as he’d already nearly reached the door. The girl skipped toward the entrance, bright pink coat bouncing through the bottom of Kate’s vision as she watched Nolan push his back against the door, edging it open. The girl hopped out onto the sidewalk, leaving them alone. At least what felt like alone. It made her stomach flip. He hovered in place, just for a moment. Then Nolan gave her a curt nod of the head and vanished into the cold.

  The door swung closed and Kate remembered how to breathe again. Taking a deep inhale, cold air from the prolonged open door stung in her lungs. Somehow it was nice. Comforting. Real. Kate grabbed her water bottle from the counter and took a long drag from its room temperature contents. She watched as the bouncing bundle led Nolan away, down the sidewalk.

  In the two minutes it took for him to disappear from view, he didn’t look back.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IN THE BRISK night air, Kate wrapped her long coat firmly around her waist. She glued her arms to her ribcage, doing her best to insulate as she waited on the doorstep. The hum of the crowd inside already had her anxiety edging upward. This is no big deal, Kate. Really. She shook her legs in a small, contained motion, generating some supplemental heat. Worst case scenario is a few awkward interactions. It’s not like you’re—