Christmas Bride for the Boss

by Kate Hardy

  When they got back to the house, Sienna’s tears had dried, but the evidence was still there in the puffiness of her eyes.

  ‘What happened?’ Jamie mouthed over the top of his daughter’s head.

  ‘Tell you later,’ she mouthed back.

  ‘So where did you go this morning?’ Jamie asked.

  ‘We went to the park and then we had pancakes,’ Sienna said. ‘I made a new friend. Her name’s Hattie. She’s the same age as me and her favourite colour’s pink, too.’

  He raised an eyebrow at Sophie. ‘You took her to meet your family?’

  ‘I usually spend some of the weekend with my family,’ she corrected, ‘and meeting them at the park meant I got to see them as well as spend time with Sienna. The girls had a great time.’ She took her phone out of her bag and showed him the photographs. ‘I’m going to print some of these out when I get home, Sienna, so you can stick them on your fridge with magnets.’

  ‘Come and tell me about the park and your pancakes,’ Jamie said. ‘And then I’ll read you a story.’

  Sienna obligingly told him about every single piece of equipment she’d been on, but he was only halfway through the story when she fell asleep on him.

  Gently, he stood up, still cradling her, then set her back on the sofa and tucked a blanket round her. Then he pointed to the kitchen.

  Sophie nodded and followed him.

  ‘So what happened?’ he asked, keeping his voice quiet.

  Sophie blew out a breath. ‘I’m so sorry, Jamie. I feel horrible that she got so upset. She saw Mandy and Hattie being close, like any other mum and daughter, and it made her miss Fran.’ She bit her lip. ‘She said on the way home that she wished she had a mummy.’

  Jamie went white.

  ‘Look, I don’t want to make things worse, but there isn’t a single picture of Fran in your house,’ she said.

  ‘Because it hurts to look at them,’ he said.

  ‘I get that,’ she said softly, ‘but not having anything at all is hurting Sienna. Right now, I think she needs to know that her mum loved her. Or am I missing something here? Was Fran maybe not the maternal type?’

  He shook his head. ‘Fran loved her. Loved her more than anything.’

  ‘Then Sienna needs to know that, Jamie. Even if it hurts you to see the pictures, she needs to see them so she can see that love for herself. She needs to see pictures of her and her mum together—video, too, if you’ve got it.’

  ‘I...’ He sounded as if the words had just choked him.

  ‘Would it help you if I went through the photos with you and picked some out?’ And she really hoped he realised that she was trying to be supportive rather than pushy.

  He swallowed hard. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Did Fran have a baby book?’

  He nodded. ‘I put it away in a box, along with the wedding photos.’

  ‘Sienna needs to see it,’ Sophie said gently. ‘She’s really careful with things, so she won’t damage it. But she needs to know it exists and her mum loved her.’

  ‘Come into the office,’ he said.

  He switched on his computer and they went through the files of photographs together.

  ‘She’s so like Sienna,’ Sophie said. Those same blonde curls and sweet smile.

  He nodded. ‘That’s why I...’

  She mentally filled in the rest. Why he’d found it so hard to be with his daughter, because she was a constant reminder of what he’d lost. And Sophie had pushed him and pushed him and pushed him.

  ‘Fran’s very beautiful,’ Sophie said.

  ‘And she was nice. Funny. Sweet. She made me a better man,’ he said. ‘And when we had Sienna, I thought life couldn’t get any better. I was so happy. Our little family... It wasn’t like I remember things being when I was a small child. It was different.’

  A close, loving family like her own, Sophie thought, rather than the cold, old-fashioned family Cindy had confided to her about.

  He dragged in a breath. ‘Two weeks before we went to the Caribbean, Fran told me she was pregnant. Six weeks. Sienna was going to have a little brother or sister.’

  So he hadn’t just lost his wife. He’d lost a child as well. No wonder he was still hurting for the might-have-beens. She wrapped her arms round him. ‘That’s hard. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Every time I look at Sienna, I see what might have been. And I hate myself for it.’

  ‘But you can’t live in the past, or in what might have been,’ she said softly. ‘Live in the here and now. Look at what you have. Sienna’s the sweetest, sweetest little girl. And she loves you dearly.’

  ‘How can she, when I hardly spend time with her?’

  ‘She loves you,’ Sophie repeated. ‘And you love her.’

  ‘Of course I do. She’s part of me. And I’m letting her down.’

  ‘Things are changing,’ she said. ‘You’re spending more time with her now and it’s going to get easier every day. And then you’ll get to the point where you see what you have now, instead of what you lost. You’re making good memories together. The fireworks and the dinosaurs and the painting and the stories.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  He didn’t look convinced, and her heart bled for him. She held him more tightly, just for a second. ‘It’s going to be okay, Jamie. Really, it is. Now let’s find some photographs of Sienna with Fran and print them out. Maybe you can make a collage together and put them in a frame in her room.’

  His eyes were wet, as if he’d been blinking back tears. ‘I should’ve done that before.’

  ‘I don’t think you were in the right place to do it before,’ she said gently. ‘But you are now. And it’s going to be okay. I promise.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  ON MONDAY MORNING, Sienna was bright and chirpy. ‘Come and see what Daddy and me makes,’ she said, tugging at Sophie’s hand.

  Up in Sienna’s bedroom, there was a new frame on the wall; either Jamie had recycled it from somewhere or he’d managed to find a craft place still open when Sienna had woken yesterday after her nap.

  And the frame was filled with a collage of photos of Sienna with Fran.

  ‘My mummy’s in heaven but Daddy says she still loves me, even though I can’t see her,’ Sienna said, ‘and he says every time I look up and see the stars twinkling it’s to show me she’s smiling down at me.’

  Sophie had to blink back a rush of tears. ‘Yes, he’s right.’

  ‘So I do have a mummy like Hattie.’

  ‘You do, darling.’ Sophie couldn’t help hugging her.

  Later that night, when Jamie came downstairs after reading Sienna’s bedtime story, she hugged him.

  ‘What was that for?’ he asked.

  ‘What you did for Sienna. Even though I know it must’ve been like sprinkling salt in your wounds.’

  ‘It was,’ he admitted. ‘But for her sake I should’ve done it a long while ago.’

  ‘You’ve done it now. And that’s a really good thing.’

  He stole a kiss. ‘Thanks to you.’

  She stroked his face. ‘Hey. I didn’t do much.’

  ‘Yes, you did. You gave me the strength to face something I found really tough,’ he said, ‘and I appreciate it. I know I ought to let you go, but come and sit with me for a while?’

  ‘Okay.’

  He led her over to the sofa in the living room, then drew her onto his lap. ‘So how’s it going with Plans & Planes?’

  ‘Good. Georgia and Lily have both settled in really well, and Georgia’s been excellent at dealing with the events side.’ She smiled at him. ‘This isn’t really the appropriate place to say this, but I’d really like to poach both of them permanently.’

  ‘I have a half-stake in the business,’ he said, ‘so if moving
staff around between the two businesses means an increase in productivity, that’s fine.’

  ‘I haven’t asked them yet,’ she warned.

  ‘I’ll talk to Karen and prime her that you’re going to ask—and if they want to move across permanently, it’s fine.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re really going to miss Eva, aren’t you?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s been my best friend for eleven years—a huge part of my life,’ Sophie said. ‘But we can do video calls, and still send each other texts and emails. And I have work to keep me busy.’

  ‘Two jobs, at the moment,’ he said, looking faintly guilty.

  ‘Two half-jobs,’ she corrected. ‘And I know we were talking about Plans & Planes, but I’m going to switch hats. It’s December next week.’

  Jamie groaned. ‘I have a nasty feeling I know what’s coming next. You want to do the tree.’

  ‘Yup.’

  He sighed. ‘I’d kind of noticed the home-made ornaments appearing on all the windowsills.’

  ‘It was a bit of a hint. Kids love helping to decorate the tree.’ Then a nasty thought hit her. ‘Or do you have a problem with Christmas?’

  ‘No more than any other day of the year,’ he said.

  But he seemed reluctant and she couldn’t work out why. ‘Didn’t you used to decorate the tree with your parents?’

  ‘No,’ he said shortly.

  More of that ridiculously Victorian ‘children should be seen and not heard’ business? she wondered. ‘Okay. Maybe it’s time to start making some new traditions with Sienna,’ she said carefully.

  ‘You’re not going to give in until I agree, are you?’ he asked wryly.

  ‘That would be a no.’

  He rolled his eyes, though she noticed that he was smiling—so he couldn’t be too put out by her suggestion. ‘Okay. I’ll finish early on Friday and pick her up from nursery and choose a tree.’

  ‘A real tree, not an artificial one.’

  ‘A real tree.’ He paused. ‘Would you come with us?’

  She grinned. ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘You’re one of these people who really loves Christmas, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes. It’s the best day of the year.’ She frowned. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘It’s just another day. And the holidays are way too commercial.’

  ‘Christmas is what you make it,’ she said firmly. ‘In my family, we give each other token presents and spoil the children. Sam’s getting a train set this year—Will and Mandy have bought a massive wooden track, and the rest of us have bought trains or accessories. We’re doing the same with Hattie’s doll’s house. And I’m pretty sure all of us are going to be on the floor, playing with them. And then there will be the board games, and someone will decide to change the rules, and there will be forfeits involved—probably involving cake and chocolate.’

  He said nothing, not being drawn on what Christmas was usually like for him and Sienna. She guessed that since Fran’s death it had been a very, very quiet affair.

  ‘You could,’ she said quietly, ‘come and join us if you want to. There’s plenty of room and my mum always cooks way too much food.’

  ‘You’re inviting us for Christmas?’ He looked shocked. ‘But won’t your parents mind?’

  She shrugged. ‘The way Mum sees it, the more, the merrier.’

  ‘I...’ He blinked, as if he couldn’t quite take it in.

  ‘You don’t have to say yes right now. Think about it.’

  ‘How would you introduce us?’

  She smiled. ‘My family already knows about you both.’

  His eyes widened. ‘Do they know...?’

  ‘About you and me? No. They just know you bought Eva’s share of the business and I’m helping you out on the nanny front. And obviously Mandy, Hattie and Sam have met Sienna.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ He seemed to relax.

  ‘You and me—that’s just between us. Because it’s still very early days,’ she said. ‘As far as everyone else is concerned, you and I are business associates and are sort of getting to know each other as friends.’

  ‘Friends.’ He stole a kiss.

  ‘And I’m going with you to choose the tree on Friday simply as your friend.’

  Friends. He thought about it. They were becoming friends. He liked Sophie a lot, as well as being attracted to her.

  But friendship plus attraction added up to a very different sum. One that scared him. Could he trust her with his battered heart? Could he relinquish control and let himself love her?

  She kissed him back. ‘I need to go. But I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a think about Christmas. No pressure—I won’t say a word to Sienna.’

  * * *

  On Friday afternoon, Jamie and Sophie took Sienna to the garden centre to choose a Christmas tree together. Sienna and Sophie made a beeline for the tree decorations, and Jamie didn’t get a chance to say that he already had decorations, because Sienna was oohing and ahhing over the most glittery things. Even though the things that she picked out made him wince inwardly at their garishness, there was no way he could say no. Particularly as Sophie took the basket and insisted on paying.

  Sophie suggested they put the tree in the living room, the furthest distance from the radiators and the fire. ‘Because then it won’t dry out,’ she said.

  And then they proceeded to decorate the tree together.

  It was so different from the tree he usually had, with its matching colour scheme and the baubles a regulation distance apart and sober white lights. Sophie had bought gaudy coloured lights that flashed in different patterns, and Sienna was thrilled by them. Jamie gritted his teeth and looped the lights around the branches, starting from the top.

  The elegant glass baubles he normally used were replaced by a mixture of Sienna’s painted yoghurt pots and the glittery decorations she’d found at the garden centre, plus the penguin with the Christmas hat they’d bought at the aquarium.

  It looked terrible. A complete mess. Every sinew in his body screamed to put some sort of order to it.

  But his daughter was smiling. So he didn’t say a word.

  ‘We need to put the star at the top, Daddy.’ Sienna produced a cardboard star that she’d painted gold and then sprinkled golden glitter on it.

  There was a gold ribbon secured to the back of the star so he could tie it to the tree.

  ‘That’s perfect, Daddy. It’s the Bethlehem star.’ Sienna beamed and sang ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’.

  Jamie had the biggest lump in his throat and he couldn’t say a word.

  ‘Sienna, can you stand in front of the tree and sing that for me again, please, sweetie?’ Sophie asked.

  Sienna obliged, scrunching her hands up and opening them wide to the word ‘twinkle’.

  ‘That’s the song Bethany asked me to sing in the Christmas concert,’ she said.

  ‘Because you sing it so beautifully,’ Sophie added.

  ‘Sophie’s making me angel wings for the concert,’ Sienna said, doing a little happy wiggle. ‘And a halo.’

  Couldn’t she just buy a proper costume in a shop? Jamie wondered. But he glanced at Sophie before he said it, and clearly she’d guessed what he was thinking because she gave the tiniest shake of her head to warn him to shut up.

  ‘That’s lovely, darling,’ he said instead.

  ‘And now I want a picture of you both in front of the tree,’ Sophie said, ‘for Cindy.’

  ‘I want you in the picture, too, Sophie,’ Sienna said.

  ‘Let’s have one with you and Daddy, and then one with all three of us,’ Sophie suggested.

  ‘Yay!’ Sienna said with a smile.

  Sophie took a few shots on her phone, then said to Sienna, ‘Do you want to help me
send this picture of you and Daddy to Cindy?’

  ‘And to the grannies,’ Sienna added.

  Grannies? What was going on? Jamie gave Sophie a suspicious look.

  ‘Later,’ she mouthed.

  He waited until after Sienna’s bedtime story to tackle Sophie. ‘Right. Explain about the grannies.’

  She sighed. ‘It’s nothing so terrible. I just send her grandmothers photos of Sienna and bits of her artwork.’

  ‘Both of them?’

  ‘Both of them,’ she confirmed.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘That’s not in your remit.’

  ‘You didn’t say I couldn’t,’ she pointed out.

  ‘How did you get their details?’

  She mimed a zip across her mouth. ‘I’m taking the Fifth on that one.’

  He scoffed. ‘You can’t, because you’re not American and we don’t have a constitution.’

  ‘In that case, I’m not telling you, because then there can’t be any comebacks,’ she said. She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘And there mustn’t be any comebacks, Jamie.’

  He was pretty sure that Cindy must have given her the information. ‘I can’t believe—’

  ‘Stop being so prissy,’ Sophie cut in. ‘Sienna’s their granddaughter. All grandparents love getting their grandkids’ artwork and sticking it on the fridge. And, for your information, they loved the pictures I sent them of you two with the dinosaurs last week.’

  ‘Hang on. This is my mother you’re talking about, too?’ he checked, not quite believing it.

  ‘Yup. Granny Gwen and Granny Rose.’

  ‘And my mother hasn’t given you a list of detailed instructions about Sienna?’

  ‘No,’ Sophie said. ‘Well, she tried. Then I explained to her I’m not actually your employee.’ The corner of her mouth twitched. ‘And that actually I’m bossier than she is.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Hardly.’

  ‘Oh, but I am. Look at that tree. It’s there—even though you hate it,’ she said, ‘and you’re quivering and desperate to make everything all neat and regulated and subtle.’

  ‘Well—yes,’ he admitted.

  ‘Which isn’t what Christmas is all about, Jamie. Christmas is about having fun, about singing carols and pop songs, about having chocolate for breakfast and the dog having his share of Christmas dinner and then spending the afternoon farting in the living room because he’s scoffed too much turkey. It’s about games for the whole family, and tinsel, and really terrible cracker jokes, and paper hats.’