A Winter's Promise (A Winter's Tale Series Book 2)

by Kristi Tailor

  “I’m fine.”

  “You keep saying that, but I know that you’re clearly lying,” she snapped. “Have you always been this cold? Or, am I finally seeing the real you?”

  Nicholas ignored her words knowing that they were said to get a reaction out of him. Signaling to change lanes he quickly merged over into his far right lane, pulling over on the side of the highway when it was safe to do so. Turning on his hazard lights Nicholas removed his seatbelt re-adjusting his chair so that he could comfortably face Charlotte. “Is that really how you feel?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.

  “That’s how you’re acting toward me,” she frowned. “And I hate it. I miss my friend. I miss the Nicholas that wanted to keep a smile on my face. This Nicholas,” she said gesturing toward him, “This Nicholas doesn’t seem to give a damn about me.”

  “Dimple, you know that’s not true,” he sighed.

  “Do I?”

  “You should. You should know how much I care about you,” he answered, his hunted greys staring directly into her chestnut browns.

  “These past few days you haven’t really shown it.”

  “I do care about you,” he claimed.

  “Then show me.”

  Combing his fingers through his thick hair, Nicholas furrowed his brows together. “Making this trip to see my parents to continue a lie that you started, and dragged me into . . . that isn’t showing you?”

  “Yes, but─”

  “Did you ever think . . . forget it. Never mind.”

  “No, finish. What were you going to say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nicholas, talk to me.”

  “I said it was nothing. Let it go,” he said, turning away from her and immediately reaching for his seatbelt. “Put your seatbelt back on.” It was an order, and the last words spoken between them as his attention was once again focused on the flashing white lines marking the paved roads ahead.

  Chapter Seven

  Pulling up in front of the enormous white beach house Charlotte couldn’t help but to smile despite her glum mood. Large glass windows lined the front of the home showcasing the all- white living room. White fur throw rugs covered a pallid marbled floor blending in with the white leather chairs that sat adjacent to a large white fire place. “Your house looks like a giant snow globe,” Charlotte gushed, taking it all in. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “It’s not my house,” Nicholas shrugged, a small smirk forming at his lips. Being born into a life of luxury, he never paid full attention to the details that others were so often amazed by, for him it was nothing more than a house on the water. “But I’m sure my mother will appreciate your comparison. She takes pride in decorating their vacation homes.”

  “Homes? As in plural? How many vacation homes does your family own?” Charlotte’s eyes twinkled at the thought of visiting more homes that resembled the one in front of her.

  “Well, there’s this one. My father had one built in Maui a few years back, one in St. Thomas, the mansion in Maine, and two in Alaska, one of which they recently put back on the market, so if you know of anyone interested in buying a home in the Alaskan mountains . . . .”

  “Alaska?”

  “My father is fond of ice fishing,” Nicholas explained.

  “A mansion in Maine . . .” she cooed, utterly shocked. How much money does your family have? She wondered.

  “He enjoys the New England charm and he loves lobster.”

  “Oh,” she nodded, trying to wrap her head around how wealthy his family truly was. While his family’s fortune had never been a topic of serious conversation there were times when Nicholas had tried to explain the importance of money and social status within his parents’ close circles, though the actuality of how deep the Elliot’s pockets went had never been remarked on, until now. “And you’ve traveled to all of those places?” she wondered aloud. The idea of being able to travel all around the world and to have a home fully furnished and waiting for you was like a dream to her. Not that her family was poverty- stricken, or among the unfortunate, not by a long shot. Her father, Manuel Toutant, served his country for thirty- five years and after his wife forced him to retire he was recruited by the Baltimore City Public School System where he continued working as a Junior ROTC teacher. And her mother, Babet, owned a pottery shop in the Baltimore City, Mount Washington area for twenty years before selling it to St. Angelina’s Hospital to be a part of their gift shop franchise. Both of her parents were successful in their careers, unselfishly providing for their daughters with no financial struggles. However, staring at the picturesque house with the large crystal windows, and hearing Nicholas talk about the many homes his family owned, Charlotte couldn’t help but wonder how she would fit in with his parents in their luxurious house, and around affluent neighbors.

  “Yes, I have traveled to those places,” Nicholas answered, interrupting her thoughts. “Are you ready to go in, or do you want to sit in the car and admire the property some more?” he laughed softly.

  “We can go─”

  “Oh- my- goodness! You’re here!” Meredith Elliot yelled from atop the wooden steps that made a path from the beach to the high rise deck overlooking the ocean. “You’re gorgeous!” she beamed, covering her mouth and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  Charlotte smiled at the middle- aged woman as she opened the car door. Not waiting for Nicholas, she made her way across the narrow gravel sidewalk and up the stairs, her small hands wrapped around the bottle of wine. “Hello, I’m Charlotte,” she greeted. Handing Nicholas’ mother the bottle she said, “This is for you.”

  “Oh, how sweet of you. You shouldn’t have.”

  Charlotte pulled at her windblown hair and with quick fingers she tucked the flyaway strands behind her ears. “It was the least I could do. Thank you for inviting my family to your home for New Year’s.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my pleasure. I’ve been trying to talk Nicholas into coming around more often, but he’s so busy with work he never has the time. Thanks to you we get to bring in the New Year with him. I’m Meredith by the way, but don’t ever call me that. It’s such an old name, an old name for an old woman. Call me Muffy.”

  Charlotte smiled sweetly at the older woman, her eyes quickly drifting over her frame. Meredith towered over her by a few inches and was much skinnier by comparison. It was obvious that she wasn’t the type of woman who ate until she was full. Her big grey eyes mirrored her son’s as did her thick chestnut brown hair. “Muffy,” Charlotte repeated.

  “Mother,” Nicholas addressed his mother formally kissing her forehead and then walking past her. Knotting her brows together Charlotte looked beyond the thin woman watching as Nicholas opened the wide double doors and made his way into the house. He treated his mother just as coldly as he had been treating her, though Muffy didn’t seem at all phased by his demeanor.

  “Walk with me, dear,” Muffy beamed, pulling Charlotte toward the steps. “There’s a quaint gift shop about a mile away, and I wanted to pop in to see if there was anything worth purchasing. I was hoping to find something for your mother.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that,” Charlotte assured her. “My mom is just excited to meet you. She loves the conversations the two of you have over the computer,” Charlotte laughed sweetly. “Trust me, she isn’t expecting anything.”

  “That’s what makes shopping even more fun . . . when the person you’re shopping for doesn’t expect it. Now let’s go before the temperature starts to drop. Being so close to the water the weather can get pretty rough.”

  Nodding her head in compliance Charlotte walked down the steps crossing the path she had just taken. No wonder our moms get along, they’re both pushy, she mused. Cringing inwardly, she wondered what it would be like with the two of them together. Sitting beside each other as one gave orders, and the other critiqued how those said orders were being carried out. The idea of it all gave her an instant headache.

&
nbsp; “Keep up darling, you’re too young to fall behind. Move those short legs,” Muffy instructed, walking swiftly in front of her.

  Short legs? Charlotte laughed inwardly. Oh yes, how awesome it’ll be when Babet arrives, Charlotte thought, squaring her shoulders as she ran to catch up with her soon to be mother- in- law.

  ***

  Nicholas walked through the large house, following the strong stench of Cuban tobacco that carelessly seeped through the black mesh balcony door just off the kitchen. Dropping their bags at the tall arched opening outside of the living room he made his way to the back of the house. Spencer Elliot stood at the cherry oak banister blowing his cares to the wind when Nicholas greeted him with a firm grip on his rounding shoulders. “Dad,” he mustered a smile. “How have you been?”

  “Nicholas,” the older man chuckled, tapping the building ashes over the deck’s edge. “It’s good to see you. How are you?”

  “As good as any man can be.”

  “I heard about the takeover. I hope you didn’t take it to heart. Fissicle saw the business opportunity and capitalized on it─ just as any worthy businessman would.”

  “It is what it is,” Nicholas replied.

  Spencer nodded his head. “I figured you wouldn’t want any interference, so I kept my distance.”

  “You did the right thing. Everything worth having eventually comes to an end, why should my magazine have been any different?”

  “You’re still editor- in- chief over at Gizzelle, aren’t you? It’s not like he left you with nothing?”

  “I’m still acting in that role, yes,” he answered. His tone was even, seemingly unaffected by the significant events that had recently taken place in his life. Although on the outside he exerted confidence and peace over losing his company, on the inside frustration and self- doubt plagued away at him. Leisure Me Ready magazine had been his first venture after leaving his father’s corporation at the age of twenty- three. Spencer Elliot was the Owner and CEO of Plotus Cosmetics, an all- Natural Cosmetics line that he self-started thirty- two years ago at the tender age of twenty- five. After being awarded his inheritance post his father’s death he sold his family’s seven estates, some within the country . . . others in lands unseen by most. By means of his massive fortune, and good family name as his backing, Spencer built his company from the ground up, priding himself on the fact that his empire used only organic resources grown within the country’s borders.

  “You’ll always have a place at our company,” Spencer offered, leaning against the wooden frame. “Not that you should have ever left to begin with, but you’re as stubborn as a mule just like your mother.”

  “Your company,” Nicholas corrected un-phased by his father’s words.

  “What’s mine is yours, and your brother’s. I built this company for the sake of our family, and you should run it alongside your brother so that I can rest.”

  “What’s yours becomes mine when you’re dead,” Nicholas regarded his father disdainfully, his thick brows drawing together above silver eyes. “And you started your company years before you met mom so let’s stop the whole ‘sake of the family’ spiel already.”

  Gently slapping his son’s left cheek, the greying man chuckled. “Stubborn as a mule,” he repeated.

  Nicholas gave a half smile. His father had been persistent in his attempt at getting him back at the company. In the recent years there hadn’t been one conversation between them where Spencer neglected to mention the position waiting for him at the family business. And it wasn’t that he was ungrateful for the corporation his father had built, but family owned establishment or not, he wasn’t interested in running such a large corporation. At twenty- eight he wanted a life of his own, not one that revolved around budgets and meetings. True, the last few months before Leisure Me Ready crashed, Nicholas had been absorbed in his work with little else on his mind, but that wasn’t long lasting. Running a magazine allowed him to have that gap that every man needed, that separation between work and play. If he took over his father’s company he would be all work, and no play and that was not the life he wished to have, it wasn’t him.

  Spencer brought the fat cigar to his lips once more, fumbling in his deep wool pockets for his lighter. “I suppose I should be congratulating you,” he laughed quietly. “Engaged to a woman who you’ve neglected to introduce to your parents’ . . . it’s so Beverly Hills. At the least you could have arranged a sit down with her parent’s so that your mother and I could have had the pleasure in making their acquaintance.”

  Meeting his father’s gaze Nicholas shrugged his muscular shoulders under his thin Under Armour hoodie. “The engagement wasn’t planned,” he said, giving no further explanation. “Besides, her parents’ will be here tomorrow, so you’ll have a full forty- eight hours at getting to know them.”

  “The respectable thing would have been for you to introduce our two families before making the request at taking the girl’s hand in marriage.”

  “Dad, that’s your way. I’m not you.”

  “Regardless, there is certain decorum that one must follow especially in situations as serious as marriage. We know nothing about her family. What type of work is her father into? Her mother, what leisure activities does she take part in? Have you bothered to find any of this out before falling down on one knee?”

  Rubbing his long fingers along his jawline in silence, Nicholas narrowed his stormy eyes at his father, instantly annoyed by the unspoken question that the older man was passively hinting toward. “She doesn’t come from a wealthy family,” Nicholas sighed. Regarding his father indignantly he asked, “Why does everything have to be about money with you?”

  “Don’t make me out to be a snob. I have no ill feelings toward lower- class people─”

  “Stop right there. Charlotte and her family are not lower class people. Her father served this country from his teens until retirement, and her mother was a business owner who worked really hard. Just because they weren’t born into millions doesn’t make them any less human than you or me.”

  Nodding his head at his son’s words, Spencer took another drag from his cigar, blowing out the smoke in slow intervals, one after another before he finally spoke. “No, son, money isn’t everything, but it helps when both families have something of value to bring to the table.”

  “I’m here,” Nicholas laughed bitterly. “Do you not see the value in that? When is the last time I’ve been around for New Year’s, or any holiday for that matter? I haven’t seen you in almost a year, but here I am standing in front of you. Charlotte is the reason for our little reunion. She is the only reason that I’m standing in front of you, right now. So, the value the Toutant family brings to the table is their daughter, and while they’re here they better be treated with the respect and decency allotted to them.”

  Spencer’s dark blue eyes brightened. “You love this girl?” he asked, entertained by his son’s gull.

  “Would I have proposed if I didn’t?”

  “Out of spite, it’s possible,” his father laughed. “Speaking of proposals, Blithe will be spending the holiday here with her parents as well. She just flew in from South America a few days ago.”

  Nicholas stared at his father in silence, un- amused by his obvious antics. Of course, she did, he thought.

  “I just thought that you should know.”

  “As always dad it’s been a privilege talking to you,” Nicholas replied, turning away from the other man, gritting his teeth as he walked back into the house. “Welcome home, Nicholas,” he mumbled under his breath, already regretting being there.

  Chapter Eight

  Charlotte sat opposite Nicholas at the long rectangular glass table under a bright chandelier that illuminated the large dining room effortlessly. Only the sound of silverware bouncing off of porcelain filled the space causing the silence between them to feel awkward and uncomfortable. Charlotte bit down on her lip as she pushed the half cooked peas and carrots around on her plate.

&nb
sp; “Not a fan of vegetables?” Muffy asked Charlotte, a bright smile on her thin face.

  Charlotte looked up from her plate for the first time since they had sat down at the dinner table. She didn’t know what it was about Nicholas’ parents, but they somehow made her feel inadequate. Maybe it was the grand house with the lavish furniture, and magnificent crystalline glass windows that overlooked the ocean, or perhaps it was the fur scarf that Muffy had neglected to take off since they had arrived, or it could have been Spencer’s old- money mannerisms that made her feel slightly underdressed, unprepared, and uncertain about what role she could possibly fulfill in Nicholas’ life besides friendship. Being around his parents brought on the feeling of being inadequate which was a sentiment she wasn’t quite use to.

  “Would you prefer squash, or perhaps eggplant?” his mother pressed, interrupting Charlotte’s thoughts.

  Smiling sweetly at the older woman Charlotte shook her head at the offer. The food wasn’t the best she’d ever had. “No, thank you. I’m pretty full.”

  “You’re lying,” Nicholas cut in, pushing his plate away from him. “You’re starving.”

  “Nicholas, I’m sure if she was still hungry she would be eating. All of this food in front of us,” Muffy said gesturing at the sliced chicken, baked vegetables, and buttered breads. “There’s plenty for her to eat if she were still hungry.”

  “The chicken is dry, the vegetables are bland, and the bread is hard,” he grinned, meeting Charlotte’s gaze from across the table. “Right, dear?”

  Daggers shot from Charlotte’s big browns as she forced an uncomfortable smile. “Everything was amaz─”

  “Don’t lie to them,” Nicholas interrupted her, leaning his elbows on the table. “You can be honest. If you didn’t like it, say you didn’t like it.”

  “Elbows, Nicholas,” Muffy chastised. “For Heavens sake, we are not animals.”