My Christmas Billionaire

by Katie Evergreen

  “I’m… I’m really happy for you,” Merry said. She was recovering from the shock, and the words were no lie. She was really happy for him, because she’d always thought that when he found somebody else, he’d forget about her.

  So why was he here, in Carroll’s?

  “I’m happy for me too,” he said. “I see you’re still here.”

  Adrian spoke the words like an insult, even though Merry wasn’t ashamed to be where she was. He smirked again, looking at her hair.

  “And still as chaotic as ever,” he said.

  “Aren’t you supposed to keep the hat on?” said Bianca, folding her arms over her chest and staring at Merry expectantly. Merry felt the hackles rise on the back of her neck, but she grit her teeth and put the hat back on her head. It itched like crazy, and there were strands of loose hair everywhere, but the sooner Adrian got what he wanted, the sooner he and his smug girlfriend would get out of here.

  “What do you want, Adrian?” she asked.

  “That’s no way to speak to a valued customer,” he replied. “Come on, babe, we can do better than that.”

  Merry screamed beneath her breath, wondering if she could get away with headbutting Adrian the same way she’d headbutted Christian yesterday. The thought of her dream man, the way he’d smiled at her, the way he’d spoken with her all evening, calmed her thoughts. She took another breath, then plastered a fake smile on her face.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, spitting out the words. “How may I help you both today?”

  “That’s better,” said Adrian, and Bianca laughed. He pulled his girlfriend close, kissing her on the cheek again. “I’m looking for something special, for this amazing, gorgeous woman.”

  “Okay,” Merry said. “Did you have anything in mind?”

  “Actually, I did,” he said, his grin so wide it almost didn’t fit on his face. “I’m looking for an engagement ring. Bianca and I are getting married.”

  6

  It really wasn’t too bad at all, if you didn’t mind the stickiness.

  Christian dipped his mop into the bucket and ran it along the restroom floor. Somebody had spilled what had to be three gallons of strawberry milkshake by the sinks, and it had stuck to the tiles like glue. But it was coming away easily enough, and there was almost something therapeutic about the work, the rhythm of the mop and the meditative quiet.

  Besides, Christian had worked on much dirtier jobs. Once, when he’d been building his first school in Rapu Rapu, he’d pickaxed into the main sewer pipe, the geyser of filthy water soaking him from head to toe. It had taken him and two more guys the better part of an hour to seal it, and the smell hadn’t washed away for a week. Back then, he’d just set up FutureWorlds, and he had plenty of staff who could have taken over the physical jobs. But Christian liked getting his hands dirty. Well, maybe not as dirty as that, but he liked to be the one out there with a hammer and tacks, or a saw, or a paintbrush. There was something amazing about being able to create a home, or a school, or a hospital—not just pay for it, or design it, but physically build it. Even when you ended up covered in filth, even when you were drenched in sweat and blood and mud. It was almost spiritual.

  That’s what his dad had never understood. Lewis Carroll had inherited the store from his own father, Cornelius. Although he’d transformed the little shop into the behemoth it was today, Lewis had never really had to build anything from scratch. He’d always sat behind his desk and given the orders, like a general. He’d never had to go on the buyer’s trips to Africa, to Asia. He’d never seen the workhouses and the mines that created the beautiful fabrics and jewelry and gadgets that filled his store.

  Christian preferred to be a soldier. He’d never forgotten his first trip to the Philippines, to the cramped and noisy factory which supplied the bedsheets and duvet covers for Carroll’s. After that day he’d vowed to dedicate himself to helping others, rather than simply adding more wealth to his own pockets, or those of his father.

  So what are you doing here? he asked himself.

  He squeezed the mess out into the bucket and ran the mop along the last stretch of floor. He wasn’t going to be here forever. Until New Year, maybe, then he’d fly home. The honest truth was he should have said no to his dad straight away, but seeing the old man so frail, so ill, had been shocking. As ruthless as Lewis was, he was still Christian’s father, and amidst all the bad memories of his childhood were a few sparkling, wonderful ones—occasions when his dad had taken the afternoon off and whisked him to the zoo in Central Park, or the library. There had even been Christmases where his dad had given Christian the best present of all: his time.

  The least he could do is see this through, and be here for his dad when he needed him.

  Christian stuck the mop back in the bucket and washed his hands—hands that were already rough and scarred from years of hard work. He dried them on his blue overalls, glancing at his reflection in the mirror.

  There was another reason he was glad to have stayed, and that reason had kept him awake all night—not Merry personally, he was sad to say, but thoughts of her, galivanting through his mind until the early hours of the morning. The last thing he’d expected as he flew home from the Philippines was to walk through the door of Carroll’s Department Store and meet such an amazing woman, but somehow it had happened. It was so unexpected, mainly because he hadn’t been looking for anyone at all. He’d had a couple of dates overseas, but never a relationship, because nothing was as important as the work, and there was simply no time to fall in love.

  Maybe that was it, he thought, using a rag to polish the faucets. Maybe taking a break from FutureWorlds and coming home had given him the chance to breathe, to rest. Maybe that’s why he had fallen so hard for Merry. What if it wasn’t her he was attracted to, but the idea of something new?

  No, that wasn’t it. Merry was everything he looked for in a woman. She was kind, he could see that immediately. She was funny, too. How many times had he burst into laughter over hot chocolate yesterday, at something she’d said? And she was beautiful, too. Her hair, the color of copper wire, her incredible green eyes, her permanently rosy cheeks covered with a dusting of freckles. Her face was mesmerizing, and all the more so when she smiled. Even the thought of it now made his heart race.

  The restroom door opened, making Christian jump. A well-dressed older man walked in, looking at Christian like he was a rat that had scurried out of the toilet.

  “Careful, sir,” Christian said. “The floor is a little wet.”

  The man ignored him, marching into a cubical. Christian put the bucket back onto his janitor’s trolley and wheeled it outside. The store was heaving, even though it wasn’t even ten yet. He politely wove his way between the groups of customers, but nobody looked at him. He was invisible in his janitor’s overalls, and as much as he hated Amy she had been right—this was the perfect role for him to investigate what was happening in the store. He’d spoken to several other members of the janitorial team already and they had all agreed that something strange was going on. For a start, three of the team had been laid off in the last month, as well as quite a few other people. The store was chronically understaffed, and customers were starting to notice. Nobody knew why it was happening, though.

  He was just entering the kitchen department when he heard his radio bleep. He unclipped it from his belt, hearing a short hiss of static then the gruff Brooklyn accent of Harvey, the senior janitor.

  “Anyone on three?”

  “I’m on four,” Christian said. “What’s up?”

  “Spillage in the watch department,” Harvey said. “They’s freakin’ out cos it’s on the Rolexes.”

  “I’m on it,” Christian said. He returned the radio to his belt and wheeled the trolley through the staff doors and down the bleak back corridor to the new freight elevator. It was a short ride down, and when the elevator doors opened he pushed the trolley out onto the third floor. It was even busier here, and it took him an age to get through
the mob of customers. It was weird, because there were only three staff members in sight—way too few for such a busy day. They were all flustered, fighting off impatient customers like they were under attack.

  It was only as he walked past jewelry that he recognized Merry, and his heart did a little Christmas dance to the beat of Here Comes Santa Clause, which was currently playing. He realized he was grinning like an idiot and he forced the smile away before anyone noticed. He turned his attention back to where he was going, before he accidentally wheeled into somebody, but something drew his gaze back to Merry. She looked as stressed as the other members of staff, but there was a desperation to her expression that made him think it was more than just being overworked. She looked worried, her mouth a grim line, her teeth clenched.

  Christian stopped walking, studying the people she was talking to. One was a well-built man in his early twenties who looked like he was ready to coach a high school football team. The other was a glamorous woman dressed for a wedding—or maybe a funeral. The man had his arm possessively around the woman, holding her like he was worried she was going to run away. But it was the way he was looking at Merry that made Christian feel like his blood was starting to simmer. There was something cruel in his expression, it was the face of a bully.

  The Rolexes could wait. Christian edged the stubborn trolley around and walked into the jewelry department, making his way slowly toward where Merry was standing. Nobody paid him any attention, apart from to step warily out of the way of his slopping bucket, and it didn’t take him long to cross the room.

  “… something big, and something expensive,” he heard the man say. “For the love of my life.”

  “Sure,” Merry replied, a tremor in her voice. She was facing away from Christian, so he edged a little closer, running a cloth over the glass face of a cabinet to wipe away an imaginary mark. “That’s fine. A diamond?”

  “Duh,” said the man. “A big one, of course. You know, Merry, I thank myself every day that I didn’t get back together with you. I’d never have had the chance to meet Bianca.”

  Christian clenched his fist around the cloth, wishing it was the man’s throat. He and Merry hadn’t spoken at all about their personal lives last night, it hadn’t been the time or the place, but this man was obviously an ex-boyfriend. What was he doing here? And why was he being so mean to Merry?

  “I’m happy for you,” Merry said. “I’m happy you met somebody.”

  “Not just somebody,” the man said. “Look at her, she’s beautiful! I mean, I used to think you were cute, but she’s in a different league. She models, you know.”

  “I’m going to be an actress,” the woman said, checking her nails like they were the most interesting thing on the planet.

  “She is,” said the man. “I’m so lucky. To think I could have ended up stuck with you.”

  That did it. The only thing Christian wanted to do was punch the man’s lights out, but that would only land him and Merry in trouble. Instead, he pulled the stinking mop out of its bucket and walked up to the couple. The floor here was immaculately clean, but he slapped the mop down at the man’s feet hard enough to splash water all over his Nikes and her Jimmy Choos.

  “Hey!” the woman yelled, stepping back so clumsily that she almost fell. “What are you doing?”

  “Sorry lady,” Christian said. “Just trying to get rid of a nasty mess.”

  He flicked the mop over the man’s sneakers and he stumbled away.

  “What’s your problem, buddy?” the man roared. “You better be more careful with that.”

  Christian glanced at Merry, whose mouth was open in surprise. He winked at her, then swept the mop around again.

  “These irritating stains just won’t get the message,” he said, jabbing the mop across the floor, dirty water splashing over their shoes. The man and woman were retreating fast now, other customers moving out of their way with astonished smiles on their faces.

  “You’re going to pay for this,” the man yelled, jabbing a finger at Christian. “I’m going to make sure you never work here again, you hear me? You stupid, good for nothing janitor.”

  Christian flicked the mop head up, a spray of brown water splashing over the man’s face. He finally turned around, grabbing his girlfriend by the arm and marching her toward the elevators. Christian waited for the door to close behind them before turning to Merry.

  A smile danced over her face, and he almost had time to return it before it vanished. Merry put both of her hands to her face as the sobs exploded out of her. Then she turned and bolted for the staff door.

  7

  Merry ran into the staff restroom and slammed the door shut behind her. Fortunately, there was nobody else in here, because the sobs were pouring out of her, unstoppable. She wasn’t even sure why—partly the shock of seeing Adrian with another woman, partly the way Bianca had made her feel so small and undesirable, partly the sugar hangover from all that hot chocolate.

  But it wasn’t just that. It had been the way Christian had ridden to her defense, swinging his mop like a lance. She didn’t understand why he’d done that. Adrian might have hit him—and she’d seen Adrian hit enough men to know that it would have done some serious damage. She had no doubt that her ex would go straight to management and report it. Christian was going to lose his job, and there was a good chance she could as well—right before Christmas, too.

  She gripped the sink and sobbed, her tears dropping down her cheeks like raindrops. Why did men have to be so annoying? Why did they always have to do such senseless and hurtful things?

  “Hello?”

  Merry almost didn’t hear the voice over her choked sobs, and she smudged away the tears the best she could.

  Go away go away go away, she prayed, but then somebody knocked on the restroom door again.

  “Merry?” said Christian. “Are you in there?”

  “No,” she said. “Please leave me alone.”

  “I’m really sorry,” he said, his words muffled by the door. “That was stupid, I never should have done it.”

  “You shouldn’t have,” she said, pulling some paper free from the towel dispenser and blowing her nose. She looked even more of a mess than usual, her eyes puffy and her nose as red as her cheeks. Under no circumstances whatsoever could anybody see her like this, especially not Christian. “Please, just go.”

  “I will,” he said. “Just as soon as you tell me you’re okay.”

  “I’m not okay,” she shot back. “You had no right to do that.”

  “I… I know,” he said. “I just heard what he said, and it drove me crazy. He shouldn’t have said those things.”

  Merry ran the faucet and splashed water on her face, recovering a little.

  “I know I don’t know you, not really,” Christian went on from the other side of the door. “But last night was… I felt good about it, I felt good about being with you. I just heard him being rude and I wanted to do something to help. I know what I did was the wrong thing, I just had to do something. You looked so… so sad.”

  She still looked sad. Merry studied herself in the mirror and sighed. If somebody had told her a few days ago that a handsome, kind stranger would come into her life and scare away Adrian with a mop, she would have laughed and welcomed it. But that’s exactly what he had done. He’d chased her horrid ex away with a stinky mop.

  To her surprise, a laugh tumbled out of her. The image of Adrian running from Carroll’s with wet shoes and mop water on his face would stay with her for the rest of her life.

  Something was rattling outside, and she cocked her head to try to work out what the noise was.

  “What are you doing?” she asked when she couldn’t figure it out.

  “Hanging up an out-of-order sign,” Christian replied. “It’s a perk of the job. Just take your time, I’ll leave you in peace. I really am sorry.”

  She heard the squeak of his trolley, and before she even knew what she was doing she ran to the door and opened it. Christian
looked back, pausing.

  “Come here,” she said. “Let me explain.”

  He did as she asked, hesitating for a moment at the door.

  “This is a lady’s restroom,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t…”

  “You’re not going to burst into flames,” she said. “Besides, you’re the janitor, you have to clean everywhere, right?”

  “Fair point,” he said, ducking past her. She let the door close, watching him as he made his way to the sinks. He perched on them, running a hand through his dark hair. The light in here was muted, but a shaft of winter sun spilled in through a window, landing right on him. His eyes were such a rich shade of chestnut brown that they didn’t look real, and when he looked at her, waiting patiently for her to speak, she felt a storm of butterflies in her stomach.

  “It’s me that should be apologizing,” she said, and when he started to argue she held up a hand. He fell respectfully silent. Merry took a deep breath, spluttering it out again. “Adrian was my boyfriend. My childhood sweetheart really. We dated a little in high school, he was on the football team and I was a naïve teenager who thought that was cool.”

  “Hence the sweatshirt,” said Christian, and Merry laughed.

  “Yeah, that’s weird, right? I mean I don’t even know how that thing is still in one piece, it’s like ten years old. Anyway, he was a nice guy back then, he treated me well. He was good at football, too. He actually got a scholarship to the University of Nebraska and we started there at the same time. It was going pretty well until our second year.”

  She closed her eyes, trying not to picture what had happened even as she described it.

  “One night we were out together, we had a few drinks. He had a few more than me. I was chatting to a friend of mine, Josh, a nerdy guy I knew from class, and Adrian got the wrong idea. Josh was giving me a hug goodbye and Adrian punched him. He knocked him out—hospitalized him, actually. He dragged me out of the bar, all in the name of protecting me. He couldn’t understand why I was so angry with him. He got kicked out a week after that. Ever since then… I just get so scared when men try to help me. I just don’t want to see anyone else get hurt.”