Snowflake Kisses

by Marianne Evans

  6

  “And she expected that kind of devious machination to win you over to her side? Is the woman certifiable? What an epic fail. Is she insane or is that a newly acquired trait?”

  Peter’s thundering decree filled the space of his office, causing Jackson to brace in the chair he occupied across from Peter’s desk.

  “I’m not the least concerned by her mental stability, or lack thereof.” Jackson scowled, fought an urge to snarl. “I’m far more bothered by what her threat means to our company, its reputation and potential business. I feel like something’s damaged here. Something I failed to recognize, or—”

  “Away with that logic, and let the devil take it!”

  Peter launched from his leather chair, framed from behind by a curving stretch of Knightsbridge lined by ancient brick buildings that were lovingly maintained and appealed to Jackson’s aesthetics. He’d always loved classic architecture steeped in history, and London fairly burst with it. Too bad recent developments threw stains across that pleasure.

  Peter paced the carpet. “If John Kensington allows her recommendations to have that much sway over his business decisions, then we don’t want it. North American operations can survive quite well without the portfolio he’s offering.”

  That level of backing felt wonderful, certainly, but Jackson was embarrassed by the necessity of revealing such a painful set of personal circumstances to a man he respected as much as Peter Colby. Circumstances that he didn’t feel painted him in the most favorable light.

  They had just concluded a late working lunch at the nearby conference table. The earthy spice of Chinese food still flavored the air, wafting from open containers. Next to a smattering of leftovers stood humming computers and open project folders they had scrutinized during the course of their meal. Of particular interest, and leading to their present conversation, was the topic of upcoming bids and strategy for securing further business in the States.

  “There are a number of high-level executives from companies in America who are eager to do business with Colby. Several of them will attend our company Christmas party next week. As you know, that’s another reason why I wanted you to visit the UK right now. Between you, me, and my father, I’m confident we’ll garner enough opportunity to make this Kensi-Corp drama a non-issue.”

  Again Jackson was appreciative of the support, but he still wondered. Why didn’t he feel altogether comforted?

  “Don’t let this detract. In light of Tamara’s behavior, I’d like nothing better than to rescind her invite.”

  “I’m grateful for your loyalty, but let’s be pragmatic,” Jackson said. “There’s no polite way to avoid her invitation to the Christmas event. She’s a client who gave us a sizeable project which we completed successfully.”

  “Oh, leave her to me, my friend.” They reconvened at the conference table workspace. Peter’s smile struck Jackson as shark-like—relishing. “I’ll see to it she has a wonderful time. By the same token, I’ll make certain she ends up nowhere near you.” As fast as it dawned, his intensity vanished. “Vanessa’s helping to oversee the party. Did I mention?”

  Jackson cleared his throat and shuffled papers into unnecessary tidiness. Peter’s laughter rumbled. “Merritt, you’d make a horrible poker player.” All at once, he leaned forward, piercing Jackson with a look. “Does she know anything about this?”

  “She doesn’t know about Tamara’s arrival in London. I haven’t had a chance to tell her yet. My responsibility was to you first and foremost but I’ll fill her in tonight. I don’t want her to be blindsided by any kind of ugliness, corporate or otherwise.”

  Peter’s display of fierce protectiveness softened. No question his love for his sibling ran strong and deep. “You’re admirable, Jackson. Join us for dinner tonight at the apartment. Lexie’s wanted to extend some hospitality, and Vannie will be there, of course. The two of you can slip away at some point, grab a walk, and sort matters.” Focused on his monitor, Peter reengaged his computer and began to tap keys. “You don’t deserve a mess like this. Let God take matters where they’re meant to be. On my end, you have nothing to be concerned about. All anyone asks is that you continue to run our company overseas with success…and heart.”

  Jackson dove into work as well, liking the pointed manner in which Peter concluded the topic.

  ****

  Vanessa had never been one for fairytales. She inhabited a world of practical push and press, effort, results—and success. She had encountered too much materialism and cultural greed to ever be wide-eyed and innocent about the world. Nonetheless, a transformation of spirit, brought about by the love affair she had witnessed between her brother and sister-in-law, had turned her spirit fully toward Christ. He was her stronghold now, the armor she wore in a daily battle against the showmanship of glamour and an over-the-top quest for material gain.

  Be that as it may, a heart focused on God didn’t place her in a bubble. Self-centered orchestrations could still tweak Vanessa’s volatile temper as well as a yen for retaliation.

  Like now, for example.

  The after-dinner walk she presently shared with Jackson should have been about savoring the sparkling beauty of London. The old city stretched before them in all its nighttime glory, its iconic buildings and modern skyscrapers shaped by beads of light that formed outlines of shadow and illumination along the glittery waters of the Thames.

  Hand in hand with Jackson, her clutch going tight against his fingertips, Vanessa reacted to his news of the purpose behind Tamara’s arrival in London. “So this ex-client of Colby Intellilink is squeezing you professionally in order to stake a personal claim? Poorly played, all in all.”

  “You have a penchant for understatement.”

  “You must tell Peter.”

  “Already done.” Car horns bleated. Across the water, a horn bellowed mournfully, the sound coming from a small freighter that skimmed past. She squeezed his arm as they ambled along an arched bridge that spanned the river. “With due respect, he had to come first.”

  “And that’s as it should be.” All the same, his revelation made sense. Vanessa had sensed Jackson’s tension throughout the day as their paths crossed and uncrossed at Harrods. “Still, I’m livid. What’s up with this woman? Why won’t she simply take your ‘no’ and be done with it?”

  “Conquest. This has nothing whatever to do with love, Vannie. That much I know despite all her protests to the contrary. This is about her wounded ego. She is a woman spurned who wants her own way at any cost.”

  “Well, added twist to the knife, this right gobby cow is set to ruin an absolutely fabulous, fantasy-like Christmas celebration I’ve pulled together for Father and Peter.”

  Laughing at her feisty display, Jackson snugged an arm around Vanessa’s waist drawing her tight to his side. “I’ll ask you to interpret that very British insult at a later point. About the party, Peter already plans to keep her occupied.”

  “And I have plans to do just the same…for you.”

  “Really? Do tell.”

  She turned in his arms, loving the smoky timber of his voice. “I’d be glad to. As you know, the Colby Christmas extravaganza is going to take place at the London Eye. As you also know, me being me, I have every intention of making sure it’s perfect in every way.” She eased into a delicious flood of anticipation, sinking against his warmth with a happy sigh. This man was truly ace in every way imaginable. “The food will be divine; we get to take a ride that overlooks the entire city, and best of all? There’s snow in the forecast. I also mean to stay quite close to a certain CEO of North American operations and make sure he has a wonderful time.”

  “Your mission is already accomplished. In spite of all the crazy drama, you’ve made this trip amazing.”

  Quiet and intent, he leaned against the brick retaining wall and traced the line of her jaw. She made an approving sound, and he stroked back waves of hair that danced against her cheeks. Vanessa leaned into his touch, taking in a slow, reverent c
aress that chased away any sense of physical chill from her body. Kiss me, she yearned in the seductive silence, losing herself in the unfathomable darkness of his eyes. Please, please kiss me…

  “We should head back before the others start wondering about us.” Jackson’s voice was rough and low, stirring.

  “If we must.” Regret fell against her in soft layers. Unwilling for the moment to end, she lifted to tiptoe and pressed her cheek to his, breathing deep of appealing woodsy spice.

  A curving, up-hill walk returned them to Pimlico and a gracious stand of residential buildings Vanessa had fallen in love with years ago on her search with Peter to find an amazing spot to call their own. Strange thing was, even upon Peter’s marriage to Alexa, the shared living space worked ideally because Peter and Alexa returned to London frequently, dividing their time between Los Angeles and England. Street lamps bathed the sidewalk with patches of soft light; a rapidly quieting night stilled Vanessa’s nerves and restored a calmer attitude.

  Inside the apartment, the air was laced by cinnamon and orange. An added layer of fresh-baked pastries called Vanessa to the kitchen, where she found Alexa fussing over a nightcap of strawberry scones. Vanessa’s mouth already watered—her sister-in-law’s culinary skills rivaled those of any expert in Paris.

  “I’ll pour the tea,” Vanessa offered. “Smells all delicious and citrusy.”

  “Thanks, and you’d be right on the mark. The water’s already heated. We just need the tray and service.”

  “Perfect.” Vanessa launched into action, but delight at having her best friend back in Britain was too great to contain. She interrupted snack preparations just long enough to yank the petite blonde into an enthused hug complete with a happy exclamation. “Lexie, I never, ever want you to leave.”

  “You’re so sweet, and you’re glowing just like the holiday we’re about to celebrate.” Full of tease, Alexa shot Vanessa a knowing glance. “Bet I know who to blame for that particular development. You’re getting on quite well with Jackson. I must say, you remain a diplomatic credit to the UK; you’re impeccably hospitable to us Yanks.”

  “Oh, not all of you.” Vanessa’s ebullience transformed to a glower in the span of a pulse beat. She poured the steeped water into a waiting porcelain tea pot. “Take that business…associate…who tracked Jackson here from the States.”

  “Ah, yes. The infamous Tamara. Heard all about her.” Alexa finished stacking scones on a china plate. Vanessa nabbed a stash of linen napkins from a drawer and added them to the tray Alexa had created. “She’ll certainly make for interesting party dynamics, now won’t she?”

  “I suppose that’s one way of putting it.”

  “Speaking of the party, Peter’s going to kill you, you know.”

  “Which is of concern to me because why?” Unperturbed, Vanessa stretched to retrieve four cups from the corner hutch of the kitchen; she positioned them neatly next to the tea pot which steamed cheerily.

  “Because when he sees the damage I did to the credit card during our Harrods spree this afternoon, he’ll—”

  “Oh, stuff it. As you Americans like to say, my employee discount rocks. Besides, when he catches sight of you in that red satin sheath, he’ll be so busy eying you up, he’ll have absolutely no time left for fretting the price tag.”

  “Ha! You feel free to tell him that.”

  “With pleasure.” Jutting her chin, bubbling with sass just itching to be released, Vanessa lifted her completed service and swept through the kitchen into the lounge.

  What she came upon in the main gathering space nearly caused her to upend the tray she carried.

  Dress slacks and all, Jackson sat on the floor, long legs stretched while he leaned on an elbow and cooed at baby Christopher. Jackson’s suit coat had been removed and now hung along the back of a chair at the dining table. His tie was loose, and he had released the top button of his shirt collar. Christopher eyed him steadily, mouth glossy and pursed into the shape of a heart. A wide, cushy quilt was covered by toys which Jackson wiggled and jiggled in an effort to entice the gurgling infant. Vanessa stopped and stared, enchanted by the view of a man comfortably and tenderly engaged with a baby.

  “You certainly have a way with little ones, Jackson.”

  Alexa’s compliment filled a void when Vanessa didn’t move.

  Jackson focused on the infant and snapped up a nearby rattle. He shook it to tempt a play session. “I’m an uncle three times over. There are twin boys who are two, and a four-year-old princess courtesy of my older sister Teresa.”

  “How wonderful!” Alexa passed Vanessa and delivered a nudge just hard enough to rouse her from a delicious episode of man watching.

  “I’d love to hear more about your family.”

  Alexa settled her tray and Vanessa finally snapped to.

  “Who’s ready for some scones and tea?” The shift of emphasis helped Vanessa gain control, but amidst the onslaught of attraction, amidst the strength of her escalating feelings for the man, there was a road of discovery and mutual knowledge curving before them.

  If they determined to find a way forward…

  7

  Vanessa trotted up the stairs leading from Knightsbridge Station. With well-honed ease, she wove past slower moving bodies, the thin, high heels of her fashion boots clicking in time to a racing heartbeat. She had just enough time to make it to work. Maybe.

  Being tardy wasn’t the reason for an escalated pulse. Peter and Jackson would be initiating the latest phase of the IT upgrade today by taking over the Penthouse. There, they would oversee fresh surveillance equipment along with the installation of a corporate-wide networking database. Thus, she had spent extra time primping. Not just for him, of course. After work tonight was the holiday party she had been looking forward to for ages, a Christmas soirée with twenty top clients in attendance along with a handful of select employees from Colby Intellilink. Festivities would feature a most wonderful treat: a private capsule ride on the London Eye complete with champagne, gourmet canapés and an unparalleled nighttime view of London from high in the sky.

  Stepping into the gray-cast, snow-dusted world above the Knightsbridge tube exit, she whipped a dark purple pashmina around her body and dashed across Brompton Road toward wind-snapped awnings of green marked by gold lettering. Years of being employed by the world-class department store did nothing to diminish the thrill she felt when crossing its threshold. Especially this close to Christmas.

  She dodged smoothly through the rush and press of shoppers, absorbing the soft chords of holiday music, the subtle undercurrent of evergreen in the air, the occasional chime and buzz of electronics. She made a dash for the ground floor computer hub, eager to touch base with Jackson before his work day began in earnest.

  Turning a corner, she neared the threshold of his temporary digs at the store and her footsteps stuttered to a halt. Jackson stood before his desk, face-to-face with a petite, attractive woman of similar age. Her head was angled upward, eyes wide as her inviting gaze trained upon his.

  “We need to talk, Jax, and you know it.” She spoke with a smooth, cultured accent born straight across the pond in America. “Please stop putting me off.”

  The woman’s hand rested upon his chest, flat and open. Their proximity might have spoken of intimacy until Vanessa registered the scowl that furrowed Jackson’s brows and darkened his eyes. “Step back, Tamara. This is wholly inappropriate, and I’m not discussing personal issues with you right now. I have work to do, which you know. Furthermore—”

  “I’ll apologize if it makes things any easier. I am sorry for—”

  “Tamara, I don’t intend to discuss this right now.”

  Giving herself an inner shake, Vanessa blinked, took in a breath and gathered herself against what she saw. So…she now had a visual to go along with her impressions of Tamara McKenna.

  Vanessa backed away from the tableau. There was nothing to be gained by intrusion. She was by no stretch entitled to the reaction of a jea
lous girlfriend, and she knew more than enough about this vixen to step back and retrace her steps with calm aplomb.

  Vanessa swept into an open lift. She punched the button for the fourth floor, moved to the rear wall, and folded her arms against her midsection while she pondered. None of this mattered. She knew Jackson’s feelings about Tamara, and an honest think-through on her way to the Penthouse left her possessed by a startling reaction and revelation.

  No envy or level of jealousy came to life. Instead, layers of sadness bloomed for Tamara and her desperate, misbegotten actions.

  ****

  Absorbed by network synchronization issues and a beta test designed to insure all system backups functioned properly, Jackson knew he was running behind. After a successful network deploy, he shut down his computer and rushed to meet Peter at the main entrance of the store.

  “Are we OK for time?” Jackson slid his arms into a long wool coat, bracing when they stepped outside into a brisk wind that smelled of coming snow.

  “No problems. We’ll hail a cab and meet Vannie at the pier. She’s with Father, the two of them are acting as a welcoming committee, so we’re fine.”

  Belvedere Road, which skirted Jubilee Gardens, led Jackson and Peter to the London Eye Pier. They took a black cab from headquarters to the giant Ferris wheel-style structure which featured enormous transport pods large enough to carry groups of passengers into the skies over London. The Eye provided superlative views, including stretches of the Thames, Victoria Embankment, Big Ben, and the Houses of Parliament. A line of trees rimmed the park. Branches dark and barren, stretched toward a night shrouded by black velvet, illuminated on occasion by wrought iron street lamps and the milky beams of a three-quarter moon that drifted in a sky dusted with stars.

  Following check-in, their designated host led the way into a clear, oval capsule suspended from the wheel. Jackson caught sight of Vanessa but not long enough for any type of connection. He rounded the growing crowd, shaking hands with invited guests as they were introduced, joining in excited chatter and exclamations centered on the ride to come. As a celebratory atmosphere built, Jackson relaxed, even though he noticed Tamara stationed along the far reaches of the transport. She shared the view with John Kensington of Kensi-Corp. A whole new set of challenges and questions came alive in his mind, pulling him far away from the party at hand.