by Sarah Morgan
Christy’s mother, Elizabeth, had treated her as her own, and only once had Alix overheard her talking about her.
“That poor girl. Some people shouldn’t have children.”
It had been the first of many Christmases she’d spent with them. Thanks to that experience, she now considered herself an expert on how to create the perfect Christmas for children.
She ignored the slightly hollow feeling inside her and pointed her mascara wand at the mirror. “You, Alix Carpenter, are a big fake. Let’s hope you’re never found out.”
She felt a wave of exhaustion. Thank goodness for adrenaline, and makeup, and the promise of a vacation soon. She had two whole weeks off over Christmas. Two weeks to sleep late, ignore her phone, catch up on the TV shows everyone talked about and she never had time to watch. And, most exciting of all, a whole week with Holly and Christy in Lapland.
How many times had they talked about Lapland as children?
It was a dream that had seeped into her work, and the company was bringing out an “Arctic” range the following year, at her suggestion. A remote-controlled wolf, a board game for the whole family that involved racing around Lapland by ski, snowmobile and sled—Meet a reindeer. Go back five spaces—and a nightlight that shone a greeny blue Aurora around the room, which she’d already sent to Holly.
Hopefully her trip would provide inspiration for an innovative marketing campaign to support the new range, but she didn’t mind if it didn’t. This was all about spending time with Holly and Christy. Could there be any better way to spend Christmas?
Seb would be there too, of course, but after a rocky beginning to their relationship they’d both moved on. Whatever their differences, they had one big thing in common. They both loved Christy.
Of all the challenges that their friendship might have brought, the one thing Alix hadn’t expected was that her closest friend would marry a man she didn’t like.
Alix frowned. No, it wasn’t that she didn’t like Seb. More that she didn’t trust him. She’d known him vaguely before Christy had met him. He’d frequented the same fashionable bar that she often went to after work, where the crowd was the usual predictable mix of City workers. They’d never been interested in each other, but she’d been aware of his reputation with women, so when he and Christy had attracted each other like magnets, the first time they’d met, she’d been concerned. Concern had turned to alarm when Christy had announced that she was pregnant and intended to marry him.
What should have been a fun, casual evening had turned into forever.
But, if rumor was correct, Seb Sullivan didn’t do forever.
She’d felt guilty, and more than a little responsible, because Christy would never have met Seb if it hadn’t been for Alix. She’d done everything she could to talk her friend out of it, which hadn’t exactly endeared her to Seb or to Christy—or to the best man, although that was a whole other story. But at the time that hadn’t mattered. She’d been trying to save her friend from making a terrible mistake. What was friendship if it wasn’t looking out for someone you loved? Being straight about the things that mattered? Christy’s happiness mattered to her, but Christy had decided that happiness had meant marrying Seb.
Fortunately that little blip hadn’t damaged their friendship, and Alix knew that nothing ever would. Their bond was unbreakable. A difference of opinion wasn’t going to change that.
And Alix had to admit that so far the marriage seemed to be working out. Seb was a good father and, as far as anyone could tell, was good to Christy. Still, Alix had been surprised when Christy had announced that they were moving to a cottage in a small village. She hadn’t been able to imagine Seb spending his weekends going on muddy walks, or enjoying a pint in the local pub. But apparently she’d misjudged him, because they’d been in the cottage for eighteen months and everything seemed to be going well.
Alix had never been happier to be wrong about something in her life.
Behind her hung the dress she’d bought that afternoon in a half-hour break between meetings. It was silver, high at the neck, fitted from the waist down. Not black. Not businesslike. But she had to admit that she loved it. It was even a little festive—and if you couldn’t sparkle in Manhattan in December, then when could you?
Sure that Christy would approve, she slid on the dress.
On impulse, she snapped a selfie and sent it to Christy with a message.
Followed your advice. New dress. I’m going to look like something that fell off a Christmas tree.
She picked up her purse, took one last glance at herself and headed out of the room.
She didn’t care much about the dinner, or the ceremony, but she was looking forward to seeing other members of her team. She never forgot that this was a team effort, and she worked with good people.
Lonely? No way.
She was sliding into the car that had been booked for her when she realized Christy hadn’t replied. But with the five-hour time difference that probably wasn’t surprising. Her friend was probably already deeply asleep.
Remembering their conversation the day before, she squashed down a flicker of concern. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been wrong, but if that was the case then Christy would have told her. They had no secrets.
She leaned back in her seat, enjoying the moment. Manhattan during the day was fun, interesting and exciting, but at night it was spectacular.
She didn’t quite understand why, but every time she landed in this city she felt as if she’d made it. She’d survived her ice-cold, refrigerated childhood and built a life for herself. No one knew what lay behind her. No one cared.
Her phone beeped and she checked it, expecting it to be Christy, and saw a message from her mother.
Won’t be back in London for Christmas, but money wired to your account. Fiona.
Alix stared at the message and then rolled her eyes. Hi, darling, have a great Christmas, love Mum. Fat chance.
She imagined her mother’s assistant tentatively putting her head round the door of Fiona’s chaotic office. A reminder to send a gift to your daughter, Professor Carpenter.
Her mother would have been irritated by the interruption.
She was relieved and a little proud that she felt nothing. There had been a time when a message like that would have punched a hole through her heart, but she was made of tougher stuff now. She’d worked hard to achieve this level of emotional control. Feelings—strong feelings—were inconvenient at best, painful at worst, and she made a point of avoiding them. It made life so much easier, so much smoother, that frankly she didn’t understand why more people didn’t do it.
Only last week she’d had to support her assistant through an emotional crisis when her boyfriend had ended their relationship. Alix had handed her a tissue, given her the rest of the day off and refrained from pointing out that if she just stayed single nothing like this would ever happen again.
“We’re here, Ms. Carpenter.” The car purred to a halt outside one of New York’s finest hotels, and a uniformed doorman stepped forward to open the door.
Alix pushed a ten-dollar bill into his hand and walked into the marble foyer.
A huge Christmas tree reached upwards, a stylish pyramid of silver and sparkle. Alix found herself thinking of the decorations Holly liked to hang on the tree. A misshapen reindeer she’d baked in the oven. A silver star with uneven points. In her opinion they held more appeal than the glittering symmetry of the ornaments adorning this tree.
She was going to have a brilliant family Christmas—just not with her own family.
Her boss, Miles, was waiting for her, phone in hand.
“You were right about that reindeer.” He showed her the screen. “It’s selling so fast we can’t keep the stores stocked.”
It was typical of him to dive straight into work, and that was fine with her.
They walked together toward their table in the ballroom, talking numbers and strategy.
The room was filling up fast, and when they finally took their seats and the evening began, Alix treated herself to a sip of champagne.
She chatted to her colleagues, keeping the conversation light and neutral. When they asked about her plans for the holidays, she told them she’d be spending it with friends in Lapland.
When one of them asked about her family she brushed the question aside, deflecting as she always did. It really didn’t bother her that her parents had no wish to spend Christmas with her, but it was hard to convince people of that, so she preferred not to talk about it.
It would have been easy for her to hate Christmas, but thanks to Christy she loved it. Her friend’s generosity was something she never took for granted. Their friendship was the most important thing in the world to her.
Now that, she thought as she took another sip of champagne, was the one relationship where she allowed her emotions to be engaged. She loved Christy like a sister, and Christy loved her back. Their lives had been intertwined since childhood and they knew every little detail about one another.
She knew that Christy hated peanut butter and always slept with two pillows. She knew that she preferred baths to showers, that she never went to bed without first applying moisturizer, and that she threw her mascara away after exactly three months—she made a note in her diary. She knew that Christy would always choose to eat a raw carrot over a bowl of ice cream, and that she’d only ever been blind drunk once in her life. Vodka. Never again. She knew that Christy’s way of handling a difficult situation was to ignore it, and that the last thing she did before she went to bed at night was make a list of all the things she had to do the following day.
And Christy knew her, too. Christy was the only one who knew Alix had lost her virginity to Charlie Harris, and that sometimes she liked to sleep with a light on. There was nothing they couldn’t say to each other, and she knew nothing would ever damage their friendship. It had occurred to her more than once that what you needed most to help you navigate childhood and adolescence wasn’t good parents, but a great friend. It was the only relationship she’d ever let herself rely on.
“Wake up, Carpenter.” Miles nudged her. “We won. Get up on that stage and make a speech.”
She heard the applause, saw images of their campaign flash across the giant screens, and walked with the rest of her team to collect the award.
As she returned to her seat she felt her phone vibrate.
She sneaked a look and saw Christy’s name on the screen.
It was three in the morning in London. Christy was a big believer in the restorative powers of sleep, which was why she never had dark circles around her eyes like Alix. She would never call in the middle of the night unless it was an emergency.
“Excuse me...”
With an apologetic smile to her colleagues, Alix gracefully weaved her way through the tables and out of the hall into the foyer. She found a quiet area and sat down on a plush sofa, next to another dazzling Christmas tree.
“Christy? Is everything okay?” She asked the question even though she knew things couldn’t possibly be okay. “Hello?”
For a moment Alix wondered if her friend had ended the call, but then she heard a muffled sound.
“Are you crying?” She sat up straighter. Her friend was more emotional than she was, but she didn’t often cry. “Christy?”
“I’m okay!” Christy sniffed. “Am I disturbing you? Has the award thing finished?”
“Yes. Boring anyway.” Alix eased her feet out of her shoes and rubbed her sore heels with her fingers. “Tell me why you’re awake at this hour.”
“I need a favor.”
“Name it.”
That was what friendship was, wasn’t it? Unconditional love and support. No matter what you need, I’m here for you.
There was a pause, as if Christy was struggling to get the words out. “I need you to take Holly to Lapland.”
“We are taking Holly to Lapland.”
“I mean you—not me. I can’t go right away.”
“I—What?” Of all the things she’d anticipated being asked, that wouldn’t even have made the list. “But this is the dream trip. The perfect Christmas. You’ve been planning it for ages.”
“I know. I’ll still be joining you. Just a few days later, that’s all. It’s fine.” The waver in her voice suggested differently. “But I need you to look after Holly.”
Alix stared at the enormous Christmas tree in front of her, a suspicion forming. “What’s happened? And where’s Seb in all this?”
“He has a meeting he has to attend. A w-work thing.” Christy stumbled over the words. “Disappointing, obviously, but one of those things. We’ll fly out together a few days later and join you.”
Work? Who blew off a long-planned trip to Lapland at Christmas to work?
Alix watched as a glamorous woman swept through the lobby on the arm of a good-looking man. He paused to kiss her, and she laughed and kissed him back, oblivious as to who might be watching.
Alix looked away. If Christy had been there she would have rolled her eyes at her friend. You’re so unromantic, Alix.
Maybe she was—but being unromantic had protected her from emotional disaster. She’d never suffered what other people called “a broken heart’. In fact, the last person she’d spent time with had questioned whether she even had a heart. Dating, in her opinion, wasn’t so different from recruitment. You drew up a job description and then looked for someone who was a good fit. Romance and passion were unpredictable and undefinable. Also unreliable. She wasn’t interested.
But she knew Christy was. Christy was the original romantic, and Seb had to know that by now. She frowned. Did he know that? Of course he couldn’t possibly know Christy as well as she did—after all, she’d had a twenty-year head start—but surely he knew that basic detail?
A colleague approached and she waved him away, indicating that she needed privacy. “It’s Christmas. Did he try telling his boss he’s taking his daughter on a dream trip to Lapland?” What boss would override that? “Couldn’t he say no?”
“No, he couldn’t. I’ve told you—he has to stay, so I’m going to stay with him. It will be good to have some adult time on our own, without Holly.”
But Christy had never left Holly for more than a few hours before. There was something her friend wasn’t telling her. What? And, more importantly, why? They had no secrets.
“Talk to me, Christy.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Alix felt a flicker of unease. There was only one thing she could think of that Christy wouldn’t be straight with her about. Her marriage. Could she ask? No, definitely not. Not after the last time. Christy had forgiven her for interfering that time, but she might not do so again.
“Tell me how I can help.” Talk to me. I’m your best friend.
But Christy was probably waiting to see her in person to confide in her. Some things weren’t easy to talk about over the phone.
“Just say you’ll take Holly for me. You’re going anyway, so the only change for you is that you’ll have sole charge of her.”
Sole charge?
The focus of Alix’s anxiety shifted. She adored Holly. As far as Alix was concerned she was an extension of Christy. She couldn’t love the child more if she was her own. But look after her alone? That didn’t fit within her skill set. What if she cried? Missed her parents? What if she was unhappy and Alix messed it up? What if it turned into a Christmas she’d never forget for all the wrong reasons?
Christy might have forgiven Alix her frankness before the wedding, but she definitely wouldn’t forgive anything happening to her child.
“We both know I’m not the best person for this.”
“You’re the perfect person.
She loves you.”
But what would happen to that love if Alix mishandled the situation?
“What if she has a horrible time? What if she’s emotionally scarred?”
“I’m asking you to take her to a winter wonderland for a few days—not raise her alone.”
“But I don’t know how to do the whole cozy family Christmas thing. That’s your domain. I just join in.” Alix ran her hand over the back of her neck. It was cold outside. How could it be so hot in this building? “This isn’t exactly babysitting for an evening. There’s the journey, for a start. And we’d be a long way from you.” The more she thought about it, the more the idea terrified her. “What if Holly misses you and has a tantrum?”
“She hasn’t had a tantrum since she was three, and hardly ever then. She’s very even-tempered—you know that. Happy. And she adores you.”
“But you know how adventurous she is. She has no concept of danger. What if she climbs on something while I’m not looking and has an accident?”
“She won’t, because you’ll be looking.”
She’d have to keep her eyes glued to the child. “What if she has a bad dream or something?”
“You’ll be there.”
“But she’d want you.” Her heart was hammering against her chest. “There wouldn’t be any backup.”
“You don’t need backup.”
Yes, she did. She couldn’t do this. She had to say no—for Holly’s sake.
“Christy—”
“She won’t be any trouble.”
“Are you kidding? Your daughter can get into trouble in an empty room.”
“True... But you know that, so you’ll be watching her. She’ll be thrilled to have some ‘girl’ time with you, and I’ll join you a few days later. Please, Alix. I know I’m taking advantage of our friendship, but there’s no one else I can ask.”
