My Christmas Billionaire

by Katie Evergreen

  She broke away and looked up at him, and he smiled down at her. There was something so honest about his expression, an authenticity that she didn’t remember ever seeing in Adrian. It was as if every thought was right there for her to see, written on his perfect face. She got the impression that there were no secrets there, that she could trust him completely.

  So why was she feeling suddenly nervous?

  “It’s getting late,” she said. “And I’ve got work tomorrow.”

  “Me too,” he replied. “An early one. Do you want to leave it here?”

  No, she thought. Not at all.

  “I guess we should,” she said. “But this was lovely. It was perfect.”

  “It really was,” he replied. “Can we do it again?”

  Merry laughed, and shook her head. Christian looked genuinely worried, so she quickly reassured him.

  “Honestly? Those skates are murder on my feet. But I’d love to do something else.”

  “Anything you like,” Christian said. “Actually, while we’re talking about it, would you do me a huge honor?”

  “What?” Merry asked.

  “Will you be my date for the Carroll’s Christmas Ball?”

  “The dance?” Merry said, a giggle escaping her. She hadn’t even been sure if she would be going, although it was the biggest night of the year for the staff. “I don’t know, it’s pretty formal, from what I hear. I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “I don’t care,” he said. “I just want to be by your side.”

  She shook her head, but then wasn’t that just the most wonderful image? She saw herself now, walking into the room with her arm in Christian’s. If he was there, it might actually be fun.

  “Okay, sure,” she said, nodding keenly. “I’d love that.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and once again they were holding each other tight, an island of happiness in the New York Night.

  16

  Christian felt giddier than he had in years, like he was a young boy again and he’d just asked a girl to prom. He hadn’t been sure if Merry would say yes to the dance or not. They’d had the most amazing evening together, but they had also only just met. They were practically strangers, although Christian really didn’t feel like it. The odd thing was he felt as if he’d known Merry for years, not days. But love did that, didn’t it? It played with time.

  He scoffed to himself quietly, holding Merry’s hand as they crossed the sidewalk. It was impossible to fall in love so quickly, wasn’t it? It had certainly never happened to him before. He’d had a few girlfriends in the past, but nobody he’d felt connected to the way he felt connected to Merry. At school he’d never really felt the need to be in a relationship, he’d been too busy. His dad had made him work in the store each afternoon, to try and instill within him a sense of duty and hard work.

  Of course, his dad was another reason he’d not sought out love. His memories of his mom and dad together were all the same: the two of them arguing, screeching at each other in the offices of Carroll’s or in their townhouse by the park, sometimes even throwing things. He’d grown up with the idea of relationships as a catastrophe, something that destroyed people. Why would he want to do that to himself?

  Before he’d left New York, he’d tried going on a few dates, mainly with women he’d met on Forevercom. But nothing had worked out. They’d either falsely flattered him in the hope of accessing his money, or asked him relentless questions about what it was like to be a billionaire. The conversations had been so forced, so ingenuine, and he’d never felt the urge to stay in touch with any of them.

  What was it about Merry that set his head in a spin? He glanced down at her. She was incredibly beautiful, that was for sure. But the beauty shone from inside her like a beacon, and it was a light that came from her soul. It was a ridiculous thing to think, but it was true. She was a good person, a kind person, and that goodness flowed from her, illuminating the night.

  “What?” she asked, smiling up at him.

  “I’m just… I’m just wondering where you’ve been all my life,” he said.

  “Right here,” she replied. “I was waiting for you.”

  He just wanted to kiss her. He wanted to lift her up and kiss her and never let go. He almost did it, too, except she turned away, a frown appearing on her flawless face.

  “Are you alright?” he asked. She didn’t answer, seeming to retreat into herself. They crossed onto the next block, dodging a crowd of tourists. “Merry?” Christian asked. “Have I done something?”

  “No,” she said. She sighed, still not looking at him. He tried to slow down, so that he could look her in the eye, but she kept walking insistently.

  “Please,” he said. “I thought we were having a good time?”

  “We are,” she said. “A really good time. An amazing time. That’s the thing, it’s too good.”

  “There’s no such thing,” he said. “Surely.”

  “I barely know you,” she replied, skipping around a puddle. “It’s all going too quickly, and I’m scared.”

  “You know me,” he replied. “This is all I am, I’m just me.”

  “My ex,” she said, her face creasing up as she spoke the words. “The guy you chased away with the mop. We were together a long time, and it turned out I barely knew him at all. I…”

  The words seemed to catch in her throat. She stopped walking, and Christian noticed that they had reached a subway station. He felt a sudden rush of panic.

  “I caught him kissing his assistant,” she said, staring at the rain-slicked ground. “It was Christmas Day, last year. I was so stupid, I should have known something was going on. He left after breakfast telling me he’d left something at work—he sells used cars in a lot across town. I should have known it was a lie, because who buys a used car on Christmas Day? But I trusted him. I didn’t always like him, but I trusted him.”

  She paused, staring across the street. There were fewer Christmas lights in this part of the city, and the dark streets seemed to match her mood. Christian reached out and took her hand, and although she didn’t make a move to break free, she didn’t let herself draw close either.

  “After about an hour I decided I’d go check on him. I thought we could take a walk down to Coney Island, maybe even grab a sub somewhere for lunch. I remember being so excited, because we didn’t always get a chance to spend time together, and the weather was… You weren’t here, were you? Last Christmas was picture perfect, the city was snuggled under a blanket of snow. It looked so beautiful. So I crunched my way through the snow, right the way to his lot, I even grabbed him coffee on the way.” She put a hand to her chest. “And I can still feel it, that excitement of Christmas Day, that feeling of nothing being real, everything being special. I can still feel it.”

  Her head hung.

  “They didn’t hear me come in. They were just standing there on the showroom floor, kissing each other like they were in love. She was so pretty, and the way he looked at her.”

  Merry wiped her face with the hand holding the flowers, petals scattering onto the wet sidewalk.

  “I was so shocked I dropped the coffee, and when he turned around… That was the worst part, because he just looked so angry. He glared at me like it was all my fault.”

  “What did you do?” Christian asked.

  “I ran,” she said. “It was so stupid, I don’t know why I didn’t confront him. I was just so scared of that look, so I turned and ran. I went to Coney Island by myself and just cried and cried and cried. Then I went home, and he was waiting for me there like nothing had happened. He didn’t even mention it.”

  A feeling of fury drove its way through Christian’s thoughts. He wished he’d done more than just shake a few drops of dirty water at the man.

  “I asked him to leave and he wouldn’t, he just started telling me that it wasn’t what it looked like, that I was imagining things, that they’d just been talking. He called me confused, paranoid, jealous, everything under the sun. He g
ot so angry he pulled down our Christmas tree, stamped my mom’s homemade baubles into splinters. But I kept asking him to leave, over and over, and eventually he did.”

  “I’m sorry,” Christian said when he was sure she had finished. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “That’s why I’m scared,” Merry said, finally meeting his eye. “He ruined Christmas for me, he ruined everything, and now here I am with you and I don’t know if you’re being honest with me, I don’t know if you’re really the man you say you are. You seem so kind, Christian, you seem so wonderful, and I feel… I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. But I haven’t, I don’t know you at all, really. I don’t know what you’re hiding.”

  “I’m not hiding anything,” Christian said, and it was only when he’d spoken the words that he realized they were a lie. Merry must have seen it on his face, because she shook her head.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said, quietly.

  “No, it’s nothing,” Christian said. “It’s…”

  He knew he should just tell her the truth. He should just tell her that he was Christian Carroll, the multi-billionaire heir to the Carroll Empire. But he’d made a promise to his dad, and if he told Merry then his cover would be blown and he wouldn’t be able to help save the store.

  “Please, just trust me,” he said.

  “I’d better go,” Merry replied.

  “Let me get you a cab again,” he said, but she shook her head.

  “I’m okay, I’ve survived this long on the subway. I’m sorry, Christian, I want to believe in this, but it’s going to take time.”

  Christian swallowed his disappointment, nodding.

  “I know,” he said. “I don’t want to rush it either.”

  Tell her, his brain screamed at him. Tell her the truth now or you’re going to ruin it.

  But he kept the truth locked in his throat.

  Merry pulled away, clutching her flowers and her umbrella as she walked to the subway steps. The crowds surrounded her, making her look so small, so fragile—as if the city was eating her alive.

  “Merry,” he called out to her back. “I will never hurt you, I swear.”

  But she didn’t hear him, and after a moment she dropped down the steps and disappeared.

  17

  The last thing Christian wanted to do was head back to his room. Even though he’d put himself up in a comfortable hotel—certainly not the seven-star establishment he could afford, but somewhere close to the store, and with a decent restaurant—the thought of returning to an empty room after the wonderful evening he’d just had left him feeling cold.

  Had he ruined the best chance of happiness he’d had for years? He mentally kicked himself for not telling Merry the truth. Instead, he’d told her that he wasn’t hiding anything, when in fact he was hiding something huge. He’d lied to her about the very essence of who he was, and wasn’t that grounds enough for her to never speak to him again?

  But it wasn’t that kind of lie. It wasn’t a lie designed to hurt anyone. He would come clean to her as soon as he was able, and he’d apologize for the fact he’d had to hide his true self from her. She would understand his reasons, wouldn’t she? She had to, because there was something special between them, Christian knew, a deep and powerful connection. He couldn’t afford to lose that. He wouldn’t lose that, at any cost.

  His head was buzzing as he thought about the day. First the kiss on the roof of Carroll’s, and then that amazing evening on the ice rink. He really had sensed his mom there, smiling at him the way he remembered her doing, her eyes full of kindness and love. He knew she would have wanted him to be happy more than anything else. He knew she would have told him to confess everything to Merry immediately, and ask for her forgiveness.

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, before remembering that Merry hadn’t given him her number. It would have to wait.

  Sighing, Christian followed the streets back to 5th Avenue. He had to do something to put Merry out of his head, or he’d never be able to sleep. He pulled the collar of his jacket up and walked into the wind. Sleet had started to fall again, flecks of ice driving into his skin hard enough to sting. He’d forgotten just how brutal a New York winter could be, especially compared to the Philippines, and he upped his pace until he reached the front entrance to Carroll’s.

  It had just turned nine, and the store was long closed. Most of the department stores in the city stayed open until ten, but his dad—to his credit—had always kept the traditional hours of nine until eight, believing that it was unfair to his staff to keep them there any later. That’s one thing Christian had always admired about Lewis Carroll. However ruthless he was as a businessman, and however useless he had been as a father, he was always fair to the people who worked for him.

  He strolled through the crowds and ducked down the access alley, opening the staff door with his keycard. He walked down the corridor and out into the atrium. It was like coming home for the first time, the store utterly empty and completely silent. He’d loved these moments when he was a kid, the quiet after the storm when the doors had been locked. He’d had the whole building to himself—well, him and the cleaning crews—and he’d explored to his heart’s content, playing cowboys and bandits amongst the hats, sliding hockey pucks along the smooth floors of the sports department, watching the huge TVs in electronics. He may have been an only child, but the store had been like a sibling to him. It had never let him get lonely.

  Now, though, something felt wrong.

  Christian walked across the vast, empty atrium. The escalators were still, the lights dimmed. Mannequins stared at him with smiles on their faces. The tree stood before him, smaller than the one at Rockefeller but no less impressive. Hundreds of presents lay around it base, perfectly wrapped and gloriously shiny. Once, when he’d been about four, Christian had opened a dozen or so of them, believing that he would find presents inside. His dad had torn strips off him in anger, but his mom had gathered him in a huge hug and told him it was okay. The next year, he remembered, she’d wrapped a special gift for him and hidden it amongst the fake presents. She’d done the same the year after, too, and the year after that, helping him find it without causing any damage. She’d promised to do it every single year, but of course she hadn’t—later that year she’d gone into hospital and never come home.

  He wondered if there would be a present there for him now.

  Shaking his head sadly, Christian surveyed the rest of the atrium. It was a mess. Clothes hung off the rails, the floor felt sticky, and the cashier’s desks were cluttered and untidy. It was almost like everyone had left at once, midway through their shift, leaving the store like the sailors on the Mary Celeste. That was weird. His dad might have been lenient in some ways, but he always insisted on the store being spotless before everyone left, ready to open up the next day. Why hadn’t anyone bothered? Where was the janitorial team?

  Christian rode the customer elevator up to the tenth floor. It was just as messy up here, Santa’s grotto littered with candy wrappers and unclaimed presents. He made his way to the staff door and let himself through, peeking his head around the locker room door to see a man sitting there, lacing up his boots.

  “Harvey?” he said, recognizing the older janitor. The man clamped a hand to his heart, wheezing in a breath.

  “Argh! Christian? Are you trying to send me to my grave? You scared the life outta me.”

  “Sorry,” Christian said, walking into the room. “I didn’t think anyone was here.”

  “That makes two of us,” said Harvey, massaging his chest. “I thought you was on an early today? What you doing here?”

  “I… I just stopped by, thought I’d left my wallet,” he said, hating the fact he had to lie. “Where is everyone?”

  “Gone,” Harvey said.

  “But why? I thought da…” He caught himself just in time. “I thought Lewis wanted the store cleaned at the end of every day?”

  “They’ve not gon
e home for the day,” said Harvey. “They’ve gone. Like, for good.”

  “What?” Christian sat down opposite the man. “Why?”

  Harvey shrugged, struggling with his other boot.

  “That’s half our janitors gone in the last two months,” he said. “Not to mention the floor staff. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can tell you something.”

  “Yeah?” Christian said, leaning in.

  “Yeah,” said Harvey. “I was walking my dog the other night and I bumped into Fred, he was one of the janitors who left. He was climbing into a brand-new Corvette—you know, not brand new, but new to him. Wouldn’t tell me how he got the money to buy it, but he did say he’s not the only one from Carroll’s who’s suddenly found himself with some extra cash. Told me that if I was patient I’d get a bonus too.”

  “A bonus?” Christian asked. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he get a bonus if he wasn’t staying? Were they trying to keep him on?”

  “That’s just it,” said Harvey. “I don’t think he got paid to stay, I think he got paid to leave. I think they all did, all the staff who’ve left, all the janitors. Something strange is going on.”

  “Yeah,” said Christian, frowning. “Something really strange.”

  Harvey struggled up, and Christian rushed over to help him.

  “Thanks, kiddo,” the older man said. “I’m getting too old for this. I did the best I can, but I can’t clean the store by myself.”

  “You did good,” Christian said. “Thank you.”

  He watched Harvey shuffle away, the man’s words circling his head like vultures. Why were people being paid to leave the store? And who was paying them? It sounded like deliberate sabotage, and if he didn’t get to the bottom of it soon then it could bring down the whole company.

  He glanced at the bench where he’d left Merry’s flowers earlier that day. It felt like a million years ago. Maybe it was a good thing that she had withdrawn a little. Maybe he needed to do the same thing. His dad had asked him here for a reason, and he needed to focus on that. Anything else was a distraction. A wonderful, beautiful, mesmerizing, life-changing distraction, sure, but still a distraction. He had to put her out of his head, at least until the ship had steadied.