by Nancy Fraser
“You must be Holly,” the man said with a familiar, engaging smile. “I’m Nic.”
Holly couldn’t believe her eyes! The man affectionately dubbed by Sherry as “Nic the dick,” was in actual fact, Nico.
Whoever originally said, “careful what you wish for,” hadn’t been kidding.
Holly’s heart raced as she stepped back, opening the door wide. “Please come in. Sherry said you have a donation.”
She waited while he wiped his wet boots, then led him into the living room and turned to face him. Despite the fact that he’d brushed by her quickly in the Emporium, she knew why she had felt that unmistakeable flash of recognition.
Would he recognize her? She raised a hand to her shoulder length rainbow-hued hair. Born a blonde, she was always playing with the color, which had been jet black and long when she and Nico had first met. Her hair had been straight then as well, unlike it’s current tangle of curls. What else was different? Her makeup was far more subtle, and she’d finally grown into her features which used to feel too big for her face. Or so said her critical photographer’s eye.
But he wasn’t looking her way.
“Cute tree,” Nico said. Given his height and broad shoulders, her tree looked almost like a toy. “Sherry’s is a monster. I needed a ladder to put the star on top. Speaking of stars...” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the angel. “I have a donation for your charity.”
He paused midway of handing it to her, and seemed to really look at her for the first time. “Have we met before?”
Holly held her breath, waiting...
“I know,” Nico said. “I saw you in that crazy shop where I got this.” He winced. “Be careful with it. The darn thing keeps poking me.”
“You make it sound vicious? Is that why you’re donating it?”
“I thought it was a nice idea,” Nico said. He sounded wounded. She hoped he felt as wounded as she had for months, waiting for the phone to ring, waiting for his call. He’d told her his name was Nico.
She’d thought that night had meant something to him, the way it had meant something to her. But he’d never called.
She exhaled. She couldn’t believe he was here, in her house.
Never in her wildest imaginings had she linked Nico, from that magic Christmas Eve in New York, to Sherry’s lawyer brother, Nicholas.
She noticed he still held the angel as he continued to look at her as if seeing her for the first time.
“Would you like to sit down?” she said finally. He looked a little dazed.
“Thanks.” He grabbed the nearest chair. “What exactly is your charity?”
Holly waved her arm in the direction of a mountainous stack of Christmas gifts in one corner, some wrapped, others waiting to be transformed, designed to delight a special youngster on Christmas day as they ripped off the fancy wrap. “I collect and wrap donated gifts to distribute on Christmas Eve to households who need a little extra help this time of year.”
Nico actually looked shocked. “How do you know what people need?”
“Kris, from the Emporium, helps me. I’m not sure if she has a sixth sense or an inside track, but she’s never wrong. I tell the donors what’s needed and they shop for it. A lot of people don’t have kids to buy for anymore. They enjoy it.”
“And you distribute these gifts all over town on Christmas Eve? Do you climb down the chimney, too?”
Holly shook her head. “The parents know to expect me. Once the kids are in bed, they leave the door unlocked.”
“You wouldn’t find that happening in New York,” Nico said.
“It’s different here,” Holly replied.
“I’ll say.”
Holly noticed he no longer seemed so anxious to pass over the silver angel. In fact, he was starting to look relaxed. She could almost see the stress melt, the same way she had that night at Rockefeller Center.
“Drat!” he said suddenly, staring at the angel. “This thing must hate me. I’ve lost count of how many times it’s stabbed me tonight.”
“They say everything happens for a reason,” Holly said. She still hadn’t sat down. She didn’t want Nico getting too comfortable, like—she had to stop thinking about that night. For a while there, she’d almost convinced herself he had been a figment of her lonely imagination. Now she knew he was real.
And too self-centered to remember the girl he ran into, literally, that night they’d both been alone on Christmas Eve, skating at Rockefeller Center. At the time she’d thought their meeting was serendipitous, for that entire evening had been like something from a dream. Or a romantic novel. Girl on her own runs into handsome man who also happens to be alone for the holidays, the connection between them nothing short of magical.
“I know!” He stood up suddenly, taller and broader than she remembered. “You don’t have a star on the top of your tree. This angel will be perfect.”
Before she could stop him, he’d crossed the room and placed the angel on the bare tree top. He took a step back and cocked his head to study it. “That looks better.”
Her heart started to gallop. She felt dizzy. What was happening? It was her turn to sink down into the nearest chair. Something about the angel, about Nico being here, placing it on her tree—she felt like she was flashing back in time. The two of them. A short, scrawny tree. A tiny room with a fire crackling. But that’s not what she recalled from that night. Her tiny New York apartment had had no tree or blazing fireplace.
“Are you okay?” He hunkered down next to her, his hand resting on the arm of her chair, touchably close.
“Sorry. Just—Yeah, I’m fine. It was a hectic day.”
Nico stood and swiped his hair back from his face with one hand in the endearing way she remembered. He started toward the door, then turned. “Hey! Need some help tomorrow night? With your deliveries?”
“That’s not—”
“Please,” he said in that persuasive way that she hadn’t been able to say no to. “Sherry accused me of being a bit of a Scrooge, and she’s right. I let work take over my life for too many years. It’s time I did something for others.”
“Dickens is not a place to come and put on your Santa hat for a few hours to make yourself feel better,” Holly said stonily.
Nico swallowed thickly, his eyes darkly intense, drawing her in. “I see my reputation has preceded me. I expect Sherry’s said a few choice things over the years about her self-centered big brother, and I can’t even defend myself. Everything she said is true.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t need his help, but somehow the exact opposite message flew past her lips. It was as if someone else was controlling her vocal cords. “Sure. That would be nice.”
She could tell from his pleasantly surprised expression that he’d been expecting her refusal.
“That’s great. Do you need a hand with the wrapping? I’m really good at putting my thumb down to hold the ribbon while it’s being tied.”
“That’s all you’re good at,” Holly said. “You’re all thumbs when it comes to folding corners because your hands are too big.” She bit her lip abruptly.
Nico gave her a funny look. “How did you know that?”
“Sherry told me,” she said quickly.
He continued to eye her closely.
She couldn’t let him help her. If she spent too much time in his company, sooner or later she was bound to say or do something that would twig his memory as to who she was, and that would be awkward.
“Seriously, I’ve been doing this on my own for years. I’ve got my routine down pat. You’d only be in the way.”
He acted like he didn’t hear her as he crossed the room to the mantle and picked up a framed photo she had taken last year of the Common and the decorated tree.
“Sherry said you’re a photographer. Is this your work?”
She nodded.
“You’re not half bad,” he said.
“Gee, thanks,” she drawled sarcastically.
He set the photo back down. “Sherry said you’re coming for Christmas dinner. Can I hire you to take some photos of Sherry and the kids while you’re there? She can email them to Josh.”
Holly shook her head. “I never work on Christmas Day. Besides, the family will be Facetiming that day.” Already, she was wondering what kind of emergency she could invent to get her out of dinner with Sherry and Nico.
“Can I buy a gift certificate then? For a family portrait once Josh gets home?”
“I suppose,” Holly said reluctantly.
“I’d need it now,” Nico said when she didn’t move. “That way I can put it in Sherry’s stocking.”
“Oh.” Holly rose. “Sure. I’ll print you something on the computer.” She wasn’t sure how it happened, one minute she was crossing the room, the next minute her foot became tangled in the throw rug in front of the fireplace and she was going down. Nico tried to break her fall, just as he had years earlier on the skating rink. And just like then, the two of them landed in a tangle of limbs.
Chapter 4
NIC PUSHED HIMSELF to one elbow and stared down at the woman on the floor beneath him. Her eyes were closed and her lids were fluttering as her chest rose and fell with each indrawn breath.
Nic blinked. Something shadowy hovered behind the thin veil of his memory, something he felt it was important he remember, but try as he might, the fragment eluded him.
Holly’s eyes flew open. She looked up at him and her mouth made a round O of surprise.
“You okay?” Nic asked as he pushed himself to his feet and stretched out a hand to help her up.
Holly nodded and looked around, as if seeking a different means to reach her feet then, reluctantly it seemed, placed her hand in his. She hardly weighed a thing and the force of his overzealous tug on her arm sent her careening into him, which didn’t feel like a bad thing at all. She fit nicely against him, and he was enjoying the feel of her soft, womanly curves before she let go and stepped away, only to let out a yelp and crumple to the floor.
Nic crouched at her side. “What’s wrong?”
“My ankle. I must have sprained it when I fell.”
“We should go to the hospital. Make sure it’s not broken.”
“I know a sprain when I feel one.” Holly half crawled, half bum-walked over to the couch and pulled herself onto it. She stretched her leg onto the coffee table and peeled back her thick sock to examine her ankle. “Definitely sprained,” she said ruefully.
Nic leapt to action. “I’ll get you ice.” He started toward a door he assumed led to the kitchen, then stopped. “Do you have ice?”
“There’s a cold pack in the freezer.”
The ice pack was easy to find as there wasn’t much in her freezer besides a couple of frozen one-person dinners, half a loaf of sliced bread, and a lone bag of berries. The single life. It reminded him of his freezer in the city, minus the berries.
The kitchen was compact and tidy, with a couple of plates and some cutlery drying in a rack above the sink. He grabbed a dish towel from the handle of the oven and wrapped it around the ice pack.
Holly was right where he had left her, staring balefully at her rapidly swelling ankle.
“Thanks.” She took the ice and positioned it on her ankle, then sucked in her breath.
“Do you have any pain meds I can get you?” Nic asked. He wasn’t used to feeling so helpless.
Holly shook her head then rested it against the sofa back. Nic watched her, wondering why he felt so drawn to his sister’s friend. Normally he’d be beating a hasty retreat by now; instead, he was shrugging out of his coat, reluctant to leave.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked. “A glass of water? A cup of tea?”
Holly studied him from beneath half-closed lids. Finally, she pointed to a wine rack in the corner. “I think I could use a glass of merlot. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”
Grateful to be useful, Nic found the wine, and without asking, located the corkscrew in the first kitchen drawer he opened. The wine glasses were in the first cupboard he looked in. Everything about Holly and her setup felt so darn familiar. He turned and stared through the doorway to where she sat on the sofa. He’d never been to Dickens, never been in Holly’s house, and yet. . .
He poured two glasses of wine and carried them through to the living room, setting hers within easy reach. He wanted to make a toast, but toasting her sprained ankle didn’t seem right.
“To Christmas,” he finally said, raising his glass.
“To Christmas,” Holly echoed. “My favorite time of the year.”
“Why’s that?”
“Our mother loved the season. We didn’t have much growing up, but she always made it special. I guess it’s ingrained.”
“A lot of people dread it,” Nic said.
“Including you?” Holly asked.
“Why would you say that?”
“This is your first time in a long time joining your family for the holidays.” Straight from the hip.
“Work sounds like a pathetic excuse now that I’m here,” he said. “At the time it seemed legitimate.” He looked straight at her. “What made you start your holiday cause to distribute gifts?”
“I believe Christmas should be special for everyone, no matter what their circumstances. Plus, I figured out a long time ago that a lot of people feel better giving than receiving, so I’m providing an easy avenue.”
“It has to be a lot of work for one person.” Nic rose. “On that happy note, old ten thumbs is going to help you with the rest of the wrapping.”
“No. Really—”
“You just sit there and nurse your ankle while you issue orders.” He flashed her a smile. “People don’t get to boss me around very often, so keep it to yourself. No bragging to Sherry how I was doing your bidding all night. It might give her ideas.”
MUCH AS HOLLY HATED to admit it, Nic’s help was a godsend. By the time he left, all the donated gifts were wrapped and organized, ready for Christmas Eve. The bottle of merlot was empty and her ankle was still sore, but she declined his teasing offer to help her into bed.
“What time tomorrow?” he asked as he put on his coat and gloves.
“Tomorrow?” she said.
“What time should I be here to help you load up your delivery van?”
Holly blew out a breath. The last thing she wanted was to spend a second Christmas Eve in the company of Nico, but the fates seemed to have other plans.
“I’ll come early and bring a pizza,” he offered.
“Oh, no I—”
“No arguments. I’ve seen inside your fridge,” he said.
“I was leaving room for any leftovers Sherry sends me home with,” Holly said.
Nico smiled. “There will still be room.”
NIC’S STEP WAS LIGHT as he cut through the Common and paused in front of the life-sized statue, wondering who she symbolized, for there was no plaque. As he walked through the still-bustling streets with the sound of Christmas carols filling the air, he had to admit Dickens was growing on him, even the quirky street names. Sherry lived in the resort area, on a street named Cayman Close.
The house was quiet, which meant the twins were in bed. Sherry sat before the lit-up tree with a book on her lap. “Everything okay?” she asked. “You were gone a long time.”
“Your friend had a slight mishap,” Nic said as he took off his coat. “She sprained her ankle, so I stayed and helped her wrap the rest of the gifts she’s taking out tomorrow night.”
“You did what?”
“You heard me,” Nic said.
Sherry’s brow furrowed slightly. “Then—I take it you two got along okay?”
“Uh huh,” Nic said with only half of his attention, as he walked over to the tree. One red ball seemed to shimmer brighter than anything else around it, drawing him close. It had to be a reflection from the lights. As he approached, the ball swayed on the branch, even though there was no draft, and he realized it was
the one with the writing on it.
He pulled over a stool and lifted it off the tree, then turned to Sherry. “Do you remember what year I sent this decoration to Mom?”
Sherry started to shake her head, then stopped. “I do remember. That’s the one that showed up after Christmas because you mailed it late.”
“Right.” Nic nodded. “Work was a bugger that December and I didn’t get a chance to shop until Christmas Eve.” He turned the ball around in his hand. He’d met a girl that night after shopping. A night that had stretched into morning, two lonely people somehow connecting in one of the largest cities in North America.
“No names,” she whispered in his ear when he asked. “Just you and me alone together as Christmas day dawns.”
She’d laughed when he asked for her number. She told him if serendipity was truly at work, he’d find where she’d written it, and to call her when he did.
“I’m Nico,” he’d said as he left. “Just so you know who I am when I call.”
She’d blown him a kiss as he closed the door behind him. “I’ll be waiting.”
He stared in disbelief at the number on the Christmas ball, then fumbled his phone from his pocket.
“What are you doing?” Sherry was watching him with a curious expression.
“This number,” he said. “I need to see whose it is.”
His shoulders sagged as a recorded message told him the number was no longer in service.
“What is it?” Sherry said when he put his phone away. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Nic said. “It wasn’t meant to be.”
Chapter 5
CHRISTMAS EVE DAY...
If her ankle wasn’t so sore, Holly would have been pacing. She was always restless on Christmas Eve, following the build-up of the past month as she compiled the gift list and matched it to the donations. Her gaze strayed to the boxes of gifts, ready and waiting. She always went to the houses with the youngest children first, as houses with older kids were trickier. The teens might be in bed, but were they asleep? As far as she knew, in the five years she had been doing this, she’d never been seen.