Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by M. Robinson

  “Van. That is your dress.”

  “It looks pretty good, right?”

  “Pretty good? I’m jealous you found it before I did! Get it.”

  “We’ll see. I’ll call you later.”

  “Love you. Get the dress,” she says again, shooting me a stern look.

  I roll my eyes and hang up the phone, then look at the price tag. Three hundred dollars. I sigh. It’s not a lot for someone like my sister. It’s not even a lot for someone like me, who makes a salary and also gets money from her ex-husband, but the money I get from Adam won’t last forever. According to our divorce papers, he’s only paying me for two years after the divorce was signed, that was according to the five-year lease we’d signed when we moved to the apartment I currently reside. The five years will be up next month, which means, no more money from Adam. It’s fine since I’m not a big spender and I only agreed to that clause because my divorce attorney was adamant about it. All of the points she made were fair: Adam Hirsch is rich. I’m not. If I hadn’t accepted, it would mean I had to move out and my job is down the block from the apartment. I’ll have to move out soon, but at least I’ve had time to look for a new place, which I found. I’ll have to take the train for thirty-five minutes, but it’s better than having to look for a new job.

  I decide to get the dress. I never wanted Adam’s money. Not before we got together, not during, and not even when we got divorced. I let my divorce attorney push me to get things I otherwise wouldn’t have asked for and now I’m glad I did because I wasn’t struggling to pay anything. I set up a retirement account with some of the money and used the rest to live modestly. Adam would’ve been proud. He was the one who taught me how to budget my money and spend wisely. Even though he was rich, he wasn’t a big spender. Unless it was on me, then he’d spend whatever it was. I felt a smile come on as I thought about that, the trips, the shoes, the lingerie, and now, as I pay for the dress, I feel my heart grow heavy. It’ll be the last thing Adam ever buys me. I’ll mourn that later. I know I will, but tonight, I’ll wear it proudly.

  Chapter Seven

  “Oh my God. Did you see Elaine Constantine?” my sister whisper-shouts.

  “She’s beautiful,” Emma says beside her.

  “Gorgeous,” I agree. “I just can’t imagine being with Lucian. He scares the heck out of me.”

  “And me,” Warren says with a chuckle.

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right. Everyone loves you.”

  “But if he didn’t, I’d be scared.” Warren raises an eyebrow as he sips his scotch. “The man’s got quite the reputation.”

  “I love this gala,” I say, looking around at the extravagance. Men in dark suits and women in gorgeous gowns mingle under the glow of a towering Christmas tree, wrapped in thousands of lights and bursting with decorations that look like real gold. The rest of the ballroom is a candlelit wonder. Dripping chandeliers. Waiters in dark uniforms. “It’s just so . . . lavish.”

  “So lavish,” Emma agrees.

  I’m still looking around when I spot Adam and my heart slams against my chest. He’s walking toward us, his dirty-blond hair slicked back and his tuxedo perfectly tailored to his perfect body. I think I sigh but recovery quickly because his gaze finds mine and I become transfixed on those beautiful blue eyes of his.

  “Wow,” he says when he reaches us, not even bothering to look at his sister or mine. His eyes are set on me and only me. My heart flips again. “You look stunning.”

  “Thanks. You look . . .” I swallow. “You look great. Really great.”

  I feel myself blush when he laughs. I made it awkward. I take a breath and tear my eyes from his to my sister, but she’s looking amused and so is everyone else standing around us. Thankfully, they take pity on us and start a conversation with him included, but I’m not paying attention. I’m hyper focused on Adam and his cologne and his height and his voice and the way he chuckles ever-so-lightly and then he brings his hand up to my back, somewhat of a reflex, and my spine tingles all the way down like he’s sending an electric shock through me.

  “Can we talk?” he asks after a moment.

  I shrug. “Sure. Outside?”

  He nods over to the nearest balcony and signals for me to set my hand in the crook of his elbow, which I do. As we walk, we smile at familiar faces and not familiar faces, and then we’re outside, alone. There are heaters set up, but I’m still a little cold.

  “Take my jacket.” He starts moving to take it off, but I set a hand on top of his.

  “I’m fine. Let’s stand beneath a heater.” I walk over to one and sigh at the warmth.

  “I didn’t get a second of sleep last night.” He turns to me. “After you left, I just sat there running everything over and over. I’ve spent the last two years doing that, trying to figure out where we went wrong. How we went wrong. We were the couple that was supposed to make it. The perfect couple, remember?”

  “Life happened.” I shrug a shoulder.

  “Sure. Life happens, but that doesn’t mean we can’t stand together while it happens. When did we become the people who can’t handle shit? We’re from Washington Heights. I mean, what the hell?”

  “I know.” I let out a laugh. “But it wasn’t just minor shit, Adam. We lost a baby. Not a pregnancy. A legit, full-term baby. That’s not minor.”

  “I’m not saying it is. Not at all.”

  “And you don’t want to try again because you’re scared, which I completely understand, but you can’t expect me to do that just because it’s your preference.”

  “I know.”

  “When I brought up adoption you said no. When I brought up fostering you said no. Pregnancy, you said no. I want children. I work with children all day and they drive me insane and I still want them. I hate that you don’t feel the same, but I can’t . . .” I swallow, hating the way the tears keep pooling in my eyes. “If I can’t do it with you, I know that I’m strong enough to do it without you.”

  “You’re strong enough to do it alone.” He puts both hands on my shoulders. “You’re the strongest woman I know.”

  I swallow again. I don’t want to cry, not here, not now.

  “I want to do it with you.”

  “What?” My eyes widen.

  “Like I said, I was thinking about it all night and I decided that I was being an idiot. Yes, I’m terrified. I’ll probably always be terrified, but so are you and you’re still strong enough to do it anyway. I want you. I need you. I moved to the other side of the country and I still couldn’t get rid of this persistent need for you. If this is what it’ll take to get you back, I’ll do it.”

  “No.” I shake my head and take a step back, making him drop his hands. “I’m not going to get together with you on a promise.”

  “Isn’t that what relationships are? Actions built on promises?”

  “You’ll leave me again.”

  “I won’t. Van, I didn’t want to leave the first time. You left me no choice.”

  “No. You got scared.”

  “I know and I didn’t want to hold you back or for you to resent me for not trying for another child, but . . . I want a child, Van. I truly do. And I want one with you.”

  “Overnight you decided you want a child?” I raise my eyebrow.

  “What if I did?” He shrugs. “I don’t know how to explain it. I had a moment of realization, and yes, I do. With you, I do. With you, I want everything. Without you, I want nothing. Please, Van.”

  “I don’t know, Adam.” I bite my lip and glance away.

  “Please, babe. One last chance. I swear I’ll be the best husband you’ve ever had.”

  “You’ve got stiff competition. My last husband was pretty great, until he wasn’t.” I shoot him a look.

  “Van.” He bites his lip to keep from smiling. “Please take me back. I’ll get on two knees and grovel. I’ll show up at my parents’ and yours when I know you’re going to be there until you get tired and just say yes.”

  “Adam.” I
sigh heavily and glance away, determined to make him sweat it out. When I look at him again, I can tell he’s certain I’m going to say no. I inch closer to him, bringing my hands up and tucking them into the lapels of his suit, reveling in the twitch his peck muscles give at my touch. “I don’t think we stood a chance apart. You’ve been following me around since middle school and I know how determined you are when you want something. This is me saying yes, in case you’re wondering.” I smile up at him. “But if you ever leave me again or feel the need to walk away from me because you don’t think you can handle the shit life throws at us, we’re done. For good.”

  He closes his eyes briefly and lets out a breath. When his gaze meets mine again, all I see is love and certainty. He doesn’t make promises, doesn’t try to convince me that I’m making the right mistake. He just leans down and captures my mouth with his, and we both know that’s enough.

  Epilogue

  1 year later

  “Stop bouncing your knee. You’re making me nervous.” I glance over at Adam, who’s sitting beside me in a hospital chair.

  There’s really no way he can make me more nervous than I already am, but I say this to him because I need to complain about something to take my mind off what’s about to happen. I’m scheduled for a C-section in fifteen minutes and the countdown has been excruciating.

  “Your kids sent flowers,” he says. “They’re holding them in a separate room for now.”

  I swallow, nodding. Last time we were in this hospital, people had sent congratulatory flowers, which quickly became funeral flowers, so hearing they’re out there doesn’t really help matters.

  “We’re here.” The door swings open and my sister lets out a breath. “Dude, the streets are crazy and Mom had to go back and get her rosary. Dad’s in the waiting area and War’s getting the bag you asked me to bring. I left it in the car.” Camila rushes to my side and lifts my hand in both of hers. “How are you feeling, sissy?”

  “Nervous.” For the first time since finding out I was pregnant, I feel myself begin to cry. “What if—”

  “No.” She squeezes my hand. “Stop. You’re going to be fine. She’s going to be fine.”

  “Dios está contigo,” my mother says as she steps into the room.

  “I hope so.” I swallow. I’ve never been religious, much to my Catholic mother’s dismay, but I’ll take every ounce of help from God I can get today. Heck, it’s Christmas Eve and while we’ve been singing Santa Baby all week, I’ve inserted a healthy baby into the lyrics, so I’ll take some help from Saint Nick as well.

  “Miss Avila. Are we ready?” the doctor asks from the threshold of the door.

  “Mrs. Hirsch,” Adam says, standing up.

  “She’s not Mrs. Hirsch anymore,” my sister says, “I haven’t seen you get down on one knee.”

  “I’ve gotten on my knees plenty of times,” Adam says, shooting me a wolfish smile that I can’t help but laugh, blush, and squirm at.

  “You’re so gross, Adam.” Camila shakes her head.

  “I got the bag,” Warren announces, also stepping into the room.

  “Only four of you are allowed,” Doctor Vishnu says, “but I’ll allow it. Did you bring me a special Christmas Eve dessert, Momma Avila?”

  “I sure did. I made my special coconut flan just for you.” Mom winks at Doctor Vishnu.

  “In that case, you can bring ten more people.” He winks at my mother and glances at me. “Let’s welcome this baby into the world, Vanessa.”

  I nod as tears form in my eyes. Adam squeezes my shoulder and my sister squeezes my hand one last time before letting it go. The nurses wheel me out quickly, and before I know it, I’m in the operating room and everything is happening so quickly I can barely wrap my head around it. I focus on Adam, his blue eyes and caring smile, his hand on my hair, soothing and comforting, and then we hear her. A crying baby. Our baby. Adam instantly begins to cry as they hand her to him, and when they set her on my chest, I feel like it just might explode from all of the love I feel for this little being. Her eyes are the bluest of blues, just like her father. I begin to cry, the sobs tearing out of me to match my daughter’s.

  “I’ve waited an eternity for you, Noa Lily Hirsch. Welcome to the world.”

  I kiss her head and she stops crying, just staring up at me.

  “She’s as perfect as you are.” Adam kisses my head and pulls away slightly. “I brought your ring in that overnight bag, but in the meantime, will you be my wife again, Vanessa, the love of my life, mother of my child?”

  The nurses around us, who are buzzing and finishing up whatever it is they’re doing, suddenly start chanting, “Say yes, say yes, say yes.”

  I laugh as I nod my head frantically and kiss him. The last time I felt this whole was when I married him the first time, and I know without a doubt I’d marry him again twenty times over.

  * * *

  Dear reader,

  You can meet Vanessa and Adam in The Player (Camila’s story). You can get another glimpse of Van’s whereabouts in The Naughty Princess. Sometimes life is messy and people drift apart. Other times, they fall apart. I’m a believer that real love always finds its way back to our lives, like it did for these two. ;)

  Xo,

  Claire Contreras

  Last Christmas

  Katee Robert

  “Get that look off your face, Cael. You know this party is important. Chin up, my boy.”

  Cael O’Malley bit back a sigh as he followed his aunt Carrigan up the stairs to the main entrance of the Morelli mansion. His cousin, Rose, elbowed him. “You’re my escort for the night, cousin. Try to look a little happier about it.” A faint Russian accent flavored her words, just like it always did when she teased him. As if she couldn’t help but remind him who her father was. Not that it mattered right now. Tonight was about their aunt Carrigan and her perpetual quest to find investors for her nonprofit that helped victims of sex trafficking.

  Carrigan stopped at the top of the stairs and propped her hands on her hips. She looked good, but then she always looked good. Even on the lazy Sunday afternoons when she’d show up to hang out when he was a kid, she was never less than perfectly put together. Tonight she wore a black gown that clung to her lean form like it was made of liquid shadows.

  By contrast, next to him, Rose wore red. A simple gown that dipped scandalously low in the back and with a deep V in the front. She’d layered a number of precariously long necklaces that somehow hung down both her front and back without choking her, offering glimpses of her pale skin with each move.

  Cael had no idea how she’d managed to get through the door without Dmitri Romanov having a stroke. Even though Rose was twenty-five and an adult—and heir of the Romanov family—her father still had some strong opinions about everything. Or that was the impression Cael got. Rose wasn’t the only one with overbearing parents, though.

  His father sure as fuck had strong opinions about shit, too.

  “Cael.” Carrigan snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Focus. I need you to watch over Rose tonight.”

  “Carrigan—”

  “No.” She shook her head. “No protests. This party should be safe enough, but if you get into any trouble at all, her father will throw a hissy fit. And you.” She pointed at Cael. “No strange disappearances. I was about to send a search party last year when I couldn’t find you.”

  It was everything he could do not to flush in response. “It won’t be a problem.” Even if part of him hoped to see the reason for that disappearance tonight, he had too much self-preservation to have a repeat occurrence. He might not be heir to the O’Malley family, but he had more than enough pride to go around. Plenty enough pride to not chase after a woman who didn’t want him. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see about that.” Carrigan turned and opened the massive door leading into the mansion.

  Rose looked around as they stepped inside. “Whoa.”

  “The Morelli fam
ily goes all out every year.” Carrigan flicked her hair off her shoulder. “Come along, niece. Let’s find the party and mingle. The goal tonight isn’t the hard sell. It’s simply to warm them up to the idea of attending the benefit next month with their checkbooks in tow.”

  Cael wasn’t sure why she’d insisted on bringing Rose, but he was certain of one thing. It wasn’t for the nonprofit. Carrigan might have gone mostly legit in the last thirty years, but no matter what she pretended for her rich donors, the truth was that the O’Malley roots into organized crime ran deep. Cael should know. His father ran their family, their territory, and their people with an iron fist. Rose’s father, Dmitri Romanov, was no different. No doubt they hoped Rose could cozy up to Lucian Morelli and see if he’d be willing to partner in some venture or another. The Romanovs had a lot of ties to the powerful families in both New York and the surrounding area…but not the Morellis.

  At least not yet.

  They walked down a wide hall decorated lavishly with a dark holiday theme. Trees lined the walls, their bare branches and trunks wound with white lights and giving the impression of leaving the real world behind. A dangerous thought. The conversations and events that happened at this party would have ripples that cascaded through the rich and powerful who attended.

  They sure as fuck had last year.

  Reaching the ballroom only amplified the feeling. Cael could practically smell the money coming off the people gathered there. Politicians, billionaires, people like him and his family, who didn’t quite land on the right side of the law. All had come to network to further their own interests.

  And then, as if by design, the crowd parted and he saw her. Eleanor McKinley. Widow to the late Senator McKinley.

  The reason for Cael’s disappearance last year at the same party.

  He stopped short, his chest going tight and his thoughts fading away. He honestly hadn’t thought she’d attend this year, or he would have made some excuse to skip it and send someone else as the O’Malley representative. Except, even as he tried to believe that, he knew he was a fucking liar.