“One hot chocolate coming up,” she said. “And for your man?”
“Oh, he’s not…” Merry started, then she caught sight of Christian striding across the room. Somehow, he looked even hotter in a discount T-shirt than he had in a transparent shirt. He filled it perfectly, and as he approached the table, smoothing his wet hair back, he looked like a movie star. Even the waitress had fallen silent.
“Hi,” he said, frowning at the sudden quiet. He looked over his shoulder as if wondering what people were staring at, then he took a seat. “Can I grab a hot chocolate please? Extra cream?”
“Great minds think alike,” said the waitress through a smile. She winked at Merry, and Merry felt a flush of something that she couldn’t quite identify. It almost felt like happiness, but what was there to be happy about? He wasn’t her man. He wasn’t even a date. They were just two work colleagues out for a drink.
“You ordered a hot chocolate too?” Christian asked. “You obviously have great taste.”
“I would have put you down as a scotch guy,” she said.
“Sometimes,” he replied. “Rarely. But on a day like today, and this close to Christmas, nothing beats a bit of liquid heaven.”
“Amen to that,” Merry said. She brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes, trying to ignore the drumming beat of her heart behind her ribs. She was doing everything she could to stop words blurting out of her mouth the way they always did. The last thing she wanted to do was scare Christian away before their drinks had arrived. Luckily, he took charge of the conversation.
“So, you come here a lot?” he asked.
“Not really,” she replied. “It’s just close, and the staff are nice, and the hot chocolates are gorgeous.”
As if on cue the waitress returned, placing two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the table.
“Enjoy,” she said, flashing a smile at Merry. Christian dunked a finger into his, pulling off a dollop of cream and plunging it into his mouth.
“Oh boy,” he said, grinning. “I have missed these.”
Merry took a sip of hers and winced, her tongue burning. She licked off some cream instead, feeling it dribble down her chin. She smudged it away before Christian could notice.
“You’ve been away?” she asked.
“Yeah, for a while now,” he replied. “Nearly five years, to be exact. In Southeast Asia, mainly the Philippines.”
“Oh, wow,” said Merry. “That’s amazing. Don’t they have hot chocolate over there?”
“Not like this,” he replied, taking a sip. “You get some amazing coffee. I practically survived on kapeng barako.”
Merry raised an eyebrow.
“It literally translates as manly strong coffee,” he said with a laugh. “But hey, they let me drink it anyway. There’s salabat, too, which is crushed ginger and brown sugar in hot water. Tastes like Lysol, if you ask me, but it’s great for a bad stomach.” He rubbed his stomach, shaking his head. “Which was every day for about a year, until I stopped eating the oxtail stew.”
Merry laughed. Christian was bright and funny and happy to joke about himself, he was the complete package. She couldn’t find a single fault. How on earth did she end up sitting opposite him?
“What were you doing over there?” she asked, just so that he wouldn’t think she was staring absently at him. He opened his mouth to answer, then paused.
“This and that,” he said, and the way he looked to the side, rather than meet her eye, set off an alarm bell. Had he been doing something bad out there? Maybe even something illegal? That’s the fault, she told herself. He’s been in prison, and now he’s on the run, hunted by crime lords from Asia. Christian cleared his throat. “Mostly the same as here, kind of keeping stuff clean, building work, odds and ends, you know.”
“Like a caretaker?” she asked, genuinely curious and slightly relieved. “What took you over there in the first place?”
He took another sip of his drink, licking cream off his lip. Merry caught herself, mentally slapping her own wrist.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I ask too many questions.”
“No, not at all,” he replied. “It’s just been a while since I’ve sat down face to face with… with anyone, really. It was a lonely life over there, nothing but work. To be honest I moved out so long ago I can barely remember. I just wanted to get away, find a space to do my own thing without my family crowding around me and judging my every move. Does that make sense?”
“Oh, sure,” she replied, the hot chocolate finally cool enough for her to take a sip. “It’s why I ended up in New York, all alone. I’m from Nebraska originally.”
“Lincoln?”
“Omaha,” she said. “My folks are still out there. We get on fine, but there just wasn’t enough there to keep me excited. I moved here three years ago after I left university—the local university, I should add. Now there’s loads to keep me entertained, but I can’t afford to do any of it.”
“That’s New York for you,” he said. “How long have you been at Carroll’s?”
“Just a few months,” she replied. “I went through a bad br…” She stopped herself. There was nothing so certain to scare away a man as hearing a sob story—at least that’s what Adrian had always told her. “I was looking for a change. I graduated in media from Nebraska—go Huskers!—and figured I’d get a job out East, but then nothing really happened and I ran out of cash, and here I am. It’s an okay place to work, I guess. Most of the people are nice.”
“Except for that woman,” Christian said, playing with his half-empty cup. “The dragon lady.”
Merry laughed.
“Mrs. Cradley, yeah,” she shook her head. “She has seriously got it in for me.”
“She’s just jealous,” said Christian.
“Oh pffft,” said Merry, waving his words away.
“No, really,” he said. “You’re sweet, you’re friendly, you’re kind, not to mention beautiful.”
Merry’s cheeks exploded, and so did Christian’s—turning a delightful shade of Christmas robin red.
“Uh…” he said. “I’m sorry, that was very forward of me.”
“It’s really okay,” she replied, almost breathless. “It’s been a long time since anybody called me that.”
Christian looked at her, studying her, and although his mouth opened again nothing came out. Merry couldn’t remember how to speak either, but luckily the waitress appeared, smiling at them both and winking at Merry.
“Can I get you folks anything else?” she asked.
A rewind button? Merry almost said. She shook her head, and so did Christian, and the woman retreated.
“So,” he said, clearing his throat. “Apart from Mrs. Cradley, the staff are okay. What about the management, the ones right at the top?”
“At the top?” Merry asked. “There are only two people in head office. Lewis Carroll is… Well, he seems okay. He’s pretty much Santa Claus, right? But I don’t see him around often, he’s always in the office.” She frowned. “Actually, I haven’t seen him much at all recently, now that I think about it. Most of the jobs he used to do are carried out by Amy Marshall. She’s the other person in the head office and she’s pretty much running the place now. You’ll meet her. She’s nice, so long as you do what you’re told.”
Christian nodded, his eyes suddenly cold. It took him a moment to look at her again.
“This is probably a weird question,” he asked. “But have you noticed anything odd about the store, anything out of place? Recently, this is.”
That was a weird question, Merry thought. She shook her head.
“Odd how?”
Christian waved the question away.
“Just somebody told me something was going wrong at Carroll’s,” he said. “Warned me about taking a job there in case the company suddenly went under. I just wondered if you’d noticed anything.”
“No,” she said, suddenly worried about her own job. “It’s been busy, really busy, like people walking out the do
or busy. But everything seems okay.”
“Good,” Christian said. “I’m glad.”
He took a deep sip of his hot chocolate, then smiled at her—the kind of dazzling, intoxicating smile, Merry thought, that you usually only saw in Christmas TV adverts.
“So, any other gossip for the new guy?”
5
Merry flew through the door of Carroll’s so fast she almost collided with the greeter who was standing there.
“I’m sorry!” she yelled, smearing the rain from her face so that her blurry eyes could focus. The fierce wind snatched at her coat, threatening to pull her back onto 5th Avenue, but she stood her ground, her teeth chattering against the cold.
“Welcome to Carroll’s!” the greeter said. “Have a merry… Oh, Merry!”
Merry squinted, recognizing her friend Alice.
“Sorry Alice,” she said. “I’m late.”
“So late,” Alice said, checking her watch. “Like, thirty minutes. Again. What happened this time?”
An early Christmas present, Merry thought, fighting back the smile.
“Traffic,” she replied, running past Alice and heading for the elevators. Mrs. Cradley would be stalking the ground floor with her clipboard, and Merry prayed that she wouldn’t see her. She even thought about taking the secret freight elevator to the top floor so that she wouldn’t be spotted—but the thought of climbing back into that death trap was almost worse than the idea of being told off by the dragon lady.
This time, she couldn’t fight the smile. Christian had given Mrs. Cradley that nickname last night, just one of the countless things he’d spoken to her about. They’d ended up staying in the bar for the better part of four hours—the only reason they hadn’t stayed longer is because they’d had three hot chocolates each by that time and they were both ready to hurl. They’d talked and talked and talked, the time seeming to pass in a heartbeat. It had been years since Merry had been able to speak so effortlessly with anyone, even her friends, even her parents. For the first time in a long time she hadn’t worried about talking too much, or straying off track, or saying something stupid. There was something about Christian’s generous eyes and kind smile that made her feel like everything she said was worthwhile.
He’d spoken too, almost as much as she had. He’d told her all about the projects he had been a part of in Asia—the houses and schools he had built, the communities he had lived in, the lives he had changed. He’d spoken a little about his early life, too, right here in New York, but they had obviously been less happy times because his eyes had gone dark and his smile had ghosted away. She wondered why, if things were so bad here and so good overseas, he had come back to New York—especially to work a janitor’s job at a department store. But that was one thing he hadn’t spoken about, and she hadn’t asked.
Besides, whatever the reason was, she was so happy that he was here.
She kept her eye out for him as she crossed the floor, weaving in and out of the crowds and waiting for the elevator. When she’d got back to her tiny apartment in a rough part of Astoria last night she’d promised herself she wouldn’t try to find out more about Christian, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. She hadn’t been able to find him on any of the social media accounts, not even the new one, LifeWrite, and she wished she’d at least asked him what his surname was.
Entering the elevator with a group of smartly dressed older gentlemen, she rode to the top floor and darted to the staff door, fumbling in the code. Fortunately, Mrs. Cradley wasn’t here, and neither were the other managers. Checking the roster and seeing that she was in jewelry, she changed into her uniform and Santa hat, then made her way to the third floor. There were already two dozen customers here, and a very flustered Diane was fighting the queue. She caught sight of Merry and waved.
“I’m so sorry,” Merry said as she slipped behind the counter. “I’m so late!”
“Duh, really?” Diane said. “It better be because of a tall, dark stranger or I’m going to be very annoyed.”
Merry laughed, a little more awkwardly than she’d intended.
“Um…” she said. “Traffic?”
“Yeah right,” Diane said. “But don’t worry. I covered for you. Told the old bat you were taking a customer to the electronics department after making a killer sale.”
“Thank you,” Merry mouthed, before turning to the next customer in the line. “Hey!” she said. “How can I help?”
It was a kid who couldn’t have been older than eighteen, and he nervously told her he was looking for something special for his long-time girlfriend who was about to leave for university in California. Merry smiled, chatting to him as they made their way between the cabinets. Most of the jewelry in Carroll’s was way too expensive for him, his eyes just about popping out of his head as he stared at the diamonds and rubies and pearls on display. But there were some more affordable items and Merry let him take his time. After a few minutes he was confidently telling her about his girlfriend, and about how he wanted to do something to make her feel special—even though he worried about her being so far away from him.
“That’s really sweet,” she said, handing him a slim chain with a silver pendant in the shape of a spiral. “You’re so lucky, and so is she. I’ve always liked this piece. There’s something about spirals that’s… reassuring, I guess. Love isn’t always straightforward, there are ups and downs, and countless bends. Trust me, I know. But with a spiral, even though you don’t always travel in a straight line, even though the journey can weave in and out of good times, you’re always moving forward.”
He nodded, smiling.
“And it’s only a hundred ninety-nine bucks,” she said. “You’ve got fifty left for a bunch of flowers and a steak dinner.”
“That’s great!” he said. “I’ll take it!”
She walked him back to the sales desk and rang it through, placing it in a display box and wrapping it as delicately as she was able.
“There should be a charge for the box, but I’ll comp it,” she said, handing it to him. “Just don’t tell anyone!”
“Thank you!” he said, grinning. She rang the sale through the till and handed him the package.
“Just remember, it will be hard, but you can get through it,” she said. “All you have to do on the bad days, is remember the good ones, okay?”
“Sure,” he said. “And really, thank you.”
“Have a great day,” she said, watching him walk away. “Merry Christmas!”
She smiled to herself, wondering if all the day’s customers would be as charming and sweet as the kid had been. Then she turned to the next one and her blood froze.
Adrian stood there, an unpleasant smile smeared across his face. He was wearing sweatpants and sneakers, and the same high school Huskies sweatshirt he’d worn back when they’d started university. His hair had thinned a little more since she’d last seen him, and his paunch had been fattened by beer and burgers, but his eyes were as blue and clear as they’d always been, and for a moment she saw the dashing young quarterback she’d fallen in love with.
“Adrian?” she said, the word coming out as a question for some unknown reason.
It wasn’t the first time he’d shown up here, of course. When he’d found out she was working here, last Spring, he’d appeared a handful of times. The first few had been to plead with her to hear him out, to tell her that he hadn’t meant to kiss his assistant, that he still loved her. Then, when she hadn’t forgiven him, he’d shown up again to make her life hard, making ridiculous demands and putting in false complaints with the management—one of which was the reason Mrs. Cradley disliked her so much.
The reason Merry was so startled now, though, is that in all the times Adrian had shown his face in the store, he’d never once brought anybody with him.
Until now.
“Hey, champ,” said Adrian, winking at her. He had his arm around a young woman—a young and very attractive woman. She was tall and slim, her long, blonde hair
perfectly platted and her face made up like a supermodel’s. She was wearing a black satin dress that would have been better suited to a gala dinner than a shopping trip—not to mention a pair of heels that looked like they cost more than Merry’s monthly paycheck. The woman gave Merry a dismissive up and down, her eyes frosty.
“Is this her?” she asked, as if Merry wasn’t standing there.
“Yeah,” said Adrian. “Merry, meet Bianca.”
Merry couldn’t move. The room seemed to be spinning. She placed her hand on the sales desk to steady herself, taking a deep breath that was full of Bianca’s expensive perfume. This didn’t make any sense. Not that Adrian had found somebody else, even somebody else so beautiful, but that she should even be remotely bothered by it. Any feelings she’d had for him had disappeared completely months ago—at least, that’s what she’d thought until this morning.
She ran a hand through her hair, knocking off the hat she’d completely forgotten about. She bent down to pick it up, locks of red hair spilling everywhere. Her cheeks were blazing, the room suddenly too hot. She felt unbearably self-conscious in her scratchy and badly-fitting Carroll’s dress, and as she stood up she fidgeted in it, trying to straighten out the creases. Bianca covered a cold smile with her manicured nails.
“Adrian,” Merry managed. “Hi. How have you been?”
She mentally kicked herself for being so nice to him. But what choice did she have? He’d already almost cost her this job once, she couldn’t risk it happening again. Adrian pulled Bianca close and kissed her on the cheek, keeping his eyes on Merry at all times. Bianca smiled again, placing a hand on Adrian’s cheek and pulling his head around so that she could kiss him on the lips—and this time she kept her eyes on Merry. Could this get any more awkward? Merry thought, wondering if this pathetic show was just for her. She turned to look for Diane, but the other girl was busy on the far side of the floor. Merry was on her own.
“I’m good,” said Adrian when Bianca pulled away. “I’m great, actually. I’ve never been happier. Bianca and I are head over heels in love.”
My Christmas Billionaire Page 4