Spirits of the Season: Eight Haunting Holiday Romances

by Amanda DeWees

  He was hatless today. His dark hair glistened with dark auburn streaks as bright as his daughter’s hair in the bright winter sun.

  “Would you like to come and meet him?”

  A little quake of excitement sent a shiver down her spine. “I couldn’t possibly.”

  Oh, she desperately wanted to. Why, why? This so wasn’t like her. She didn’t swoon over handsome men. Fantasize about them. She met a dozen a day. High-style lawyers with flashy smiles and even flashier suits. Maybe it was because he was so different from them. More strong-featured, more manly.

  Maybe it was that, despite his breathtaking good looks, he also seemed a little sad. She vividly recalled that look in his eyes the day they’d met, or at least the day he’d picked her up off the ground. So blue. So haunted. His shoulders hunched just a bit. As if he carried the weight of his sadness over his shoulders.

  He looked like she often felt.

  “Why not?”

  “Huh? What?” Alice looked back down at the girl feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “No… You don’t just walk up to a complete stranger in Central Park, you know.”

  “I can introduce you.”

  So winsome. She couldn’t help but smile at the girl. “But we haven’t been introduced either,” she pointed out. “My name’s Alice Chanler.”

  “My name’s Hazel Brennan but Daddy always calls me Hazy. His name is George.”

  Alice loved how the sound of it rolled off Hazel’s tongue with the same Irish lilt her father had spoken with. The burr changed the ‘eor’ in George to a softer ‘air’ so it sounded like Gairge. She repeated it aloud using the same inflection and the little girl smiled. The heat in her cheeks spread across her face and down her neck. “Very nice to meet you, Hazel.”

  “You can call me Hazy, too.”

  “Thank you, Hazy. And is your mother here, too?”

  Her face dropped. “No, Mommy went to Heaven.”

  Well, that explained that, didn’t it? Sorrow washed over her, for them both.

  “I’m so sorry. Mine did, too, not so long ago. You must miss her very much.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sure your daddy misses her, too.”

  Hazy shrugged, looking across the lines of screaming sledders to her father.

  “Hazy?”

  “He’s only so sad still because he’s lonely. Maybe if you come and see him again, he won’t be so lonely anymore.”

  Humor and annoyance warred within her. This devious little girl needed to get together with her grandmother. They had a lot in common but what neither of them realized was that when one was mourning a loss, whether it be the death of a loved one or just a broken engagement, a new relationship couldn’t be forced.

  “Hazy…”

  “It’s true,” she insisted. “He didn’t look sad when he saw you. He looked like he used to. I know all he needs is a new wife to be happy again.”

  “And perhaps you’re looking for a new mother, as well?”

  “No, I…”

  With a sigh, Alice dropped down onto her haunches and faced the child eye to eye. “When he decides he’s ready to find a new wife, he will. You can’t force another person to be happy.”

  “So you won’t come meet him then?” Hazy asked. “Not even just to say hello?”

  “No, not today.”

  “But you’d like him and he’d like you. I know he would.”

  “Ah, you sly miss,” Alice teased, tapping Hazy’s nose with her finger. “You’re trying so hard to play matchmaker, but it won’t work. I’m on to you.”

  Hazy’s bright laughter pealed out over the snowy park. Across from her, George Brennan lifted his head at the sound. His sad eyes scanned the area, brightening briefly. Then his shoulders drooped again and he turned, climbing his way back to the top of the hill.

  “I guess I need to go,” Hazy said. “Goodbye, Miss Chanler.”

  “Good bye, Hazy. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  With a wave, the little girl ran off after her father who was heading toward one of the paths leading out of the park. Once she reached his side, she slowed to a skip smiling up at him.

  * * *

  “How was your afternoon, dear?”

  “It was fine, Gran.”

  “It must have been. Look at the rosy glow on your cheeks!”

  “Don’t start.” If she did it would be nothing but the same old, same old. Just as it’d been since Justin had left her.

  “Start what?” she asked innocently. “I’m only saying you look pretty today.”

  Pulling her beanie off her matted, pale gold hair, Alice shot her grandmother a look of blatant disbelief. She might get a second look in one of her suits and heels in the courtroom but no one should look at her in her hoodie and running pants after a five-mile run and think, “Now that’s a pretty woman.” Not even a grandmother.

  She’d looked like this when she’d run into her mystery man with the heavenly Irish accent and that’d ended with nothing more than a wave. He hadn’t seen her any of those other times but…

  Those other times bothered her. It was bad enough she couldn’t drag her thoughts away from a man, but how was it she kept managing to run into him? “There is something though. Oh, Gran, I need your help.”

  “Is it a man?” Gran asked, her brown eyes glittering with interest as she leaned forward in her chair.

  “Yes. No, not exactly.” Alice shook her head. “Yes, there is this man. I ran into him when I was running last week. Since then I’ve seen him two more times. Just out of the blue. Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”

  “Do you think he’s a stalker?” No fear in Gran’s voice. Only excitement, as if it would be a good thing.

  “No, nothing like that. I don’t think he even saw me, but think about it. There’s almost two million people in Manhattan. What are the odds that I’d run across a man I’ve never seen before, three times in one week?” she asked. “It’s like…”

  “Fate?” Gran suggested, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied grin.

  “I don’t believe in fate, Gran.”

  “How about providence then? I’m not going to be able to stay with you forever. You know that. I’d like to know before I go that you’re safe. Taken care of. With someone who can give you all the love you deserve. So perhaps destiny is taking care of that for me.”

  “I don’t think that’s it.” The woman would grasp any chance to play matchmaker. She shouldn’t have even brought it up. “Not unless you’ve got a direct line to God you haven’t told me about.”

  “I can ring Him up right now, if you like.”

  She shook her head as the old woman laughed merrily at her own joke. Returning to the kitchen for a bottle of water, she took a moment to calm her rattled nerves. She wasn’t a believer in divine intervention, but the whole situation did have a preconceived vibe to it. As if fate or whatever engineered these run-ins.

  No, it was just too weird.

  “Either way,” Gran called. “I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. If you run into him again, I say go for it. Take a chance on love.”

  Alice leaned back against the fridge and looked up at the ceiling while she drank from her bottle. How many chances did one woman get? She’d taken a few in the past decade. Look where it’d gotten her. Approaching her thirtieth birthday alone. Justin was only the latest, the longest and the worst in a slew of bad decisions.

  Did she deserve another chance?

  Did she dare to take one?

  Chapter 4

  With any luck she could be out of there within an hour or so. Long enough to make the partners happy without making herself miserable.

  Oh, the ball was all for a good cause. The Evergreen Foundation supported wounded military soldiers returning from combat with PTSD. It also helped their families and caregivers. Their senior partner’s son had been wounded in Afghanistan and was a huge contributor. Hence the tables. But Alice didn’t take a seat at either of them. Si
tting meant talking—at length. Any conversation of more than two minutes would begin to lapse over to her personal life, and to those rare few who weren’t already privy all the dirty details, questions about where Justin was. She just didn’t want to go there tonight.

  Ugh, this was so awkward. She should’ve asked Benny to come as her plus one if for no other reason than to avoid such uncomfortable topics. They could have hidden out by the open bar and happily wasted the night away.

  She hadn’t, but all her friends were glad she was out in public voluntarily… well, semi-voluntarily for the first time in months. They’d FaceTimed her to cheer her on like she’d climbed Mt. Everest. Maybe she had.

  After making her obligatory greetings with the partners and small talk with the other associates and their significant others, she picked a flute of bubbly off the tray of a passing waiter. Taking a sip, she wandered the perimeter of the crowd. The grand ballroom of the Waldorf-Astoria was bursting at the seams. A small orchestra played music from the Christmas carol song sheet, which didn’t have a lot of dance potential but that wasn’t stopping anyone. A dozen or more couples swayed to the music on the central dance floor beneath a delightful lighting effect that made it seem as if it were snowing indoors.

  It was nice to get out again, she decided, tipping up her glass and homing in on another waiter to trade out the empty for a fresh glass. She shouldn’t have let this whole mess drag her so far down. She’d missed out on so much of the season she’d normally looked forward to. She and Gran used to go see the Nutcracker ballet. It’d be the highlight of their Christmas season every year. Of course, they couldn’t do that anymore but she shouldn’t have fallen into the habit of dismissing all her favorite holiday events like going to Macy’s just because she’d have to go alone

  But Justin hadn’t liked going either. The past two years, she’d hardly done anything because he hadn’t wanted to go.

  Yeah, well, what was her excuse this year?

  Maybe it was time she stopped making them.

  Humming along to the music, she swished her long skirts from side to side enjoying the silky caress of the fabric against her bare legs.

  It was nice to get dressed up, too. With Chloe’s guidance, she’d made a good choice in the dress after trying on a hundred or so. The long, sleek silhouette paired with high, strappy heels gave her petite figure the illusion of height. Demure from the front, sleeveless with a modest rounded neckline and tailored bodice, it showed her slender curves to their best advantage. In the back though, the fabric draped low, baring her back down to her hips.

  She felt more relaxed and beautiful than she’d had since Justin dumped her. Maybe a little sexy, too. As sparkling as the rhinestone clutch she carried. As effervescent as the bubbly. Definitely free-spirited since she was already on her second—or was it third?—champagne.

  Alice snorted into her champagne and turned, walked right into a solid, tuxedoed wall. Teetering off balance, her glass sloshed from side to side before long male fingers reached out and removed it from her hand. Holding the glass steady while she regained her footing.

  “I can see it isn’t just your dog then.”

  “Just my dog what?” she questioned while holding on to his strong arm as she lifted her foot and settled her shoe back on properly.

  “That has you constantly falling here and there. Though I’m glad I’ve been present to assist you. Twice now.”

  Oh, that deep, manly baritone! How had she not immediately recognized it? Alice looked up, meeting the sky blue gaze that had continued to whisper in and out of her dreams over the past week. Sweet baby Jesus, George Brennan was gorgeous in black tie. The jacket hugged his broad shoulders and cut in to his narrow waist. No rental there. His hair lacked the red highlights in the dim lighting but even so the dark locks framed his sculpted face perfectly. Now that he was clean-shaven, she was able to awe at every arresting feature without the obstruction.

  Her damn breath caught like a hiccup, so audible there was no way he could’ve missed it. Luckily, he couldn’t see her heart pounding a mile a minute though he might have been able to hear it if the music weren’t so loud.

  How had she managed to literally run into him again? She might be feeling more optimistic about her future, but she wasn’t ready for anything like him. She didn’t want to be attracted to him, to feel that enticing shiver tingle up and down her spine. To feel her blood warm and thrum through her body. To feel his hard, hot body beneath her hand…

  Alice looked away from him and down at her hand still resting on his arm as it had committed some great transgression. She snatched it back and retrieved her champagne as well. “Are you implying I’m doing so to solicit your attention in some way?”

  “I’m not implying anything.” His somber eyes danced briefly. “I’m simply saying you’re quite clumsy.”

  She should have been offended… or at least feigned it. But Alice was so surprised to see his green eyes light up with that flash of laughter, she couldn’t begin to hold it against him. Or point out how rude of him it was to comment on it. Instead something akin to gladness bubbled up inside of her. His flash of joy, as fleeting as it was, was hers as well. “My grandma never pulls punches either. She always said I was a klutz.”

  “Are you now?”

  “Like I said, it’s not you, so don’t flatter yourself.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.”

  His mesmeric gaze slid up and down her body. Like a velvet glove, she felt every stroke. By the time his eyes returned to hers, she trembled from head to toe with something suspiciously similar to desire gushing through her veins. Ah, wouldn’t it be so easy to savor it? Give it to it?

  Sure, but where would that get her? Alice sighed and upended her champagne glass, emptying it in two gulps. Perhaps the cold liquid would cool her heated thoughts.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” George said. “I like the color of your dress. It complements your eyes.”

  Shifting awkwardly, she looked up at him. She wasn’t uncomfortable about the compliment, but that he’d noted her eye color. No one that night, not even her coworkers of several years, had noted her eyes were almost the exact shade of amber as the dress.

  But he had in under a minute. “Er… thanks.”

  “I only pointed that out because so many women at these things wear black.” He gestured to the room around them and Alice looked around as well. Yes, better than three quarters of them were in black. Not surprising, black was easy. It had been her go-to for years.

  “Gran strictly forbade a black dress when I went shopping this year,” she told him. Scanning the immediate area for a waiter but coming up empty, she set her empty flute on a nearby table.

  “Do you always do what your Gran says?”

  “Only if I value my life.”

  He chucked again and her heart didn’t just skip a beat, it hurdled a few. Damn, damn, damn. That had to have been the sexiest sound in the world. It scored at her heart and left her feeling all quivery inside.

  And the smile accompanying it looked pretty fine as well.

  The strains of a slow waltz filled the room and George gestured to the center of the room. “Would you like to dance?”

  Oh, she would love to. There could be few things in her world today that would feel as wonderful as being waltzed around a dance floor by a man like him, but she couldn’t… No, she could but she simply didn’t want to.

  Liar.

  No, coward.

  “No, thank you,” she said, seeing his thick brows lift at her rejection from the corner of her eye. She didn’t dare look at him again. Just a glimpse of those blue eyes might be enough to loosen her resolve. “I… I, er, need to get back to my firm’s table.”

  “But…”

  Not giving him a chance to finish his protest, she turned on her heel and strode into the maze of tables. She didn’t get halfway around the second before she was nearly knocked off her feet when another man pushed back his chair into her.

  H
e caught her by the elbow as she stood. “Oh, I’m sorr… Oh, hey, Alice.”

  * * *

  Of course, it was Justin. Wasn’t that just perfect?

  “Hello, Justin,” she said tightly, looking around for an escape. She was an uncomfortable as he sounded. “What brings you here to…” Leslie crept up next to him and slipped her arm through his. Alice rolled her eyes and shrugged prosaically with a short, high-pitched squeak. “Oh, sure. Of course. You’re here with… Oh, geez.”

  That last slipped out under her breath before she could stop it. This night was going from bad to worse. Running in to two men she preferred to avoid, though for entirely different reasons.

  Her gaze shifted to Leslie, then widened as it slid downward. She never saw Leslie around the office these days. In fact, she made a point not to. Leslie seemed to be on board with that and since they worked in different arenas of the law, it hadn’t been a problem. But surely it hadn’t been that long since she’d seen her. What had they been married now? Two months? Three? Well, that was no three-month belly. That much was obvious. In fact, it looked like a hell of a lot more than even six.

  “You unbelievable bastard,” she said under her breath, looking up at her former fiancé in disbelief.

  “Alice, you’re not going to cause a scene, are you?” he asked uneasily.

  “A scene?” She gaped at him in amazement. “Why on earth would I cause a scene? I haven’t descended to making one yet despite all the bullshit,”—perhaps the word did escape her a little more vehemently than it should have—“you’ve put me through. What makes you think I’d start now?”

  “Listen, Alice,” Leslie began, but had the good grace to look away when Alice swung her glare in that direction. “We know you’ve been having a trying time these last few months and we’ve gone out of our way to make things easier for you.”

  “Are you kidding?” she asked. “You think any…”

  “But,” Leslie went on firmly. “Just because you don’t have anyone doesn’t mean we should hide…”

  “There you are, darling.”