Deck the Halls

by Heather MacAllister

  “Holly, I’ve got the snow-making machine from the amusement park confirmed. They want to know where and when you want your snow.” Ivy stood in the doorway. Holly stared at her without answering.

  “Holly?” Ivy entered the office uncertainly. “The snow? They asked if you have a permit. Shall I check on that for you?”

  “Ivy . . .” Holly hesitated, then ran her fingers through her curls. “Ivy,” she said again, “you remember the ballroom at the Landreth . . .”

  “Uh-huh. About ten shades of red and orange. Clashes with everything.”

  “So you realize the problem.”

  Ivy looked at her with the first hint of suspicion. “Yes. That’s why you’re covering everything in white.”

  “I need at least three thousand dollars for a deposit on the silk,” Holly said baldly.

  “Wow. What does the ball committee say?”

  Holly pretended to study the papers on her desk. “Nothing. I can’t bother them with—”

  “Then keep the room dark. The walls will look black that way. Too bad the carpet—”

  “We could do it if we borrowed your college money,” Holly interrupted quietly. “The ball committee can’t reimburse me until afterward.”

  There was painful silence in the room.

  Ivy’s lower lip began to tremble. “I’m supposed to register next Tuesday.”

  “I’m sorry,” Holly whispered. “I need the money for Mrs. Bloom, too. She’s renting us the lights, the trees and the polar bears.”

  “What about all these people who are donating money and stuff?”

  Holly winced at the bitterness in Ivy’s voice. “It costs thousands of dollars to put on a ball like this. They hope to make hundreds of thousands.”

  Tears began to flow down Ivy’s cheeks. “Can’t you find a way to do it that doesn’t cost so much?”

  Holly felt horrible. “We decided to do this only if we made it spectacular. Otherwise, it won’t do us any good.”

  “You decided.”

  Holly exhaled heavily. “Now I’m asking. If I could find another way to borrow the money, I would. Listen, after this, we’ll be set for life. We’ll never have to worry about money again. I promise you can enroll in the summer. You can go to any school you want. It’s only four more months, Ivy.”

  Ivy wiped her cheeks and stood, clutching her papers. “I’ll check on that permit for you.”

  “Ivy!”

  Ivy, long black hair swirling around her, paused in the doorway with her back to Holly.

  “You didn’t say whether or not we could use your college money.”

  Ivy glanced back, her lips twisted in a bitter smile. “I understood my agreement was a mere formality. You’re going to use it, anyway.”

  “Don’t, Ivy.”

  “You want my blessing? Will that make you feel better? Or are you even capable of feeling guilty?”

  Holly’s stomach curled into a knot, as if she’d been punched. “If you tell me not to, I won’t use your college money,” she said evenly.

  “Right,” Ivy said, flinging up her arms, “so if anything goes wrong, it’s my fault!”

  “I’ll be getting it back this time.” Holly tried to smile. “In fact, why don’t you check with the admissions department and see if there’s a way to delay payment?”

  “Don’t treat me like a child, Holly. I’m not one anymore. You and I both know the college won’t wait for payment, for the same reason no bank will lend you money. Bankruptcy and no tangible assets.”

  Holly sat at her desk for a few moments after Ivy left. Ivy was angry now, but she’d come around. She’d be grateful. Holly dialed the fabric mill. Ivy would go to the best school in the country. With a wardrobe to match. And a car.

  And Holly would have a winter wonderland like no one had ever seen.

  It was time to defrost the American Express card. Holly finished talking with the mills and had a rather tedious discussion with Mrs. Bloom. The concept of donating was foreign to her. They were arguing over whether she would supply a hundred white trees at cost, or at cost plus ten percent, when Holly noticed a shadow in the doorway.

  “Mrs. Bloom, I’d like to stay on good terms with you, so I think I’ll go with someone else.” Holly hung up the phone with a feeling of great satisfaction. Let Bloomie call her for a change.

  “So your telephone isn’t out of order.” The words were spoken with a deceptive mildness.

  “Adam!” Holly exclaimed a little breathlessly. “What are you doing here?”

  Adam walked over to her desk, leaned across it and tilted her chin with his fingers. “You haven’t been sleeping,” he said sternly. “You need this trip more than I thought.”

  Holly’s face froze, then flushed with guilt. She tossed her head defensively.

  Adam cleared a spot on her desk and spread out a travel brochure. “Warmth and sun, white beaches and our own cabana. Breakfast served on our private beach. No sightseeing, no responsibilities, no worries.”

  Holly studied the brochure, feeling Adam’s gaze on her bent head.

  He folded the leaflet and put it back in his breast pocket. “And no trip?”

  “I . . .” Holly couldn’t say anything else.

  “I thought your phone was broken,” he said conversationally. “I called. Several times. I haven’t heard from you in three days.”

  Holly plastered a determined smile on her face. “The most incredible thing has happened. We’re decorating for the Winter Ball. It’s a chance I never thought we’d get. I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

  Adam broke into her babble. “When is the Winter Ball, Holly?”

  “The twenty-ninth.”

  “The day we’re supposed to leave on our trip.”

  Holly felt uncomfortable with this quietly solemn Adam. He had the same look on his face that Laurel and Ivy had on theirs. He didn’t understand. No one did. “I forgot.”

  “Forgot.” The word hung between them.

  “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Couldn’t we postpone the trip? It sounds perfectly lovely and after this, I’ll need it.” Holly laughed shakily and ran her fingers through her hair. “Be happy for me. We’ll get national coverage in the society pages. It’ll be wonderful. You’ll see.”

  There was no warmth in Adam’s face. “Will I?”

  “Yes.” Holly looked at him in surprise. “You’ll be there, won’t you?”

  “When were you planning to invite me?”

  Holly threw down her pencil and sighed in exasperation. “I’m telling you about it now, okay?”

  Adam strode around the side of her desk, withdrew the glossy leaflet with the ocean sunsets and private cabanas and thumbtacked it right in the middle of her scheduling board.

  She had no warning. He grasped her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. He gazed at her an instant before crushing her slightly parted lips to his. Passion flared briefly within her before he set her roughly back in the chair. “Next time—ask.”

  Chapter Nine

  HOLLY HALL WAS a wreck, but a happy wreck. With her mother’s diamonds glittering around her neck, Holly watched from her post near the ice-tunnel doorway as each group of people entered. Without fail, the newcomers gasped and exclaimed with delight as they left the twisting tunnel and entered a frosty world of enchantment.

  Holly couldn’t believe all the hard work was over and she had managed to pull it off. Fueled by caffeine, her brain had concocted a fantasy that had taken the carpenter and his crew a week of time-and-a-half to create.

  The city of Dallas had graciously permitted artificial snow in front of the Landreth Hotel. Thousands of lights twinkled in white leafless tree branches as guests entered the hotel lobby. Outside the ballroom, they entere
d an igloo-like tunnel with swirling fog, courtesy of a dry-ice machine. The tunnel twisted and turned before opening into a glittering white world.

  Holly’s only disappointment had been the silk. Who cared about its lovely draping qualities when the hideous color scheme of the ballroom showed through the thin fabric? Holly ended up shining colored lights on it like a theater scrim. She told everyone they were the northern lights.

  “You know,” Laurel remarked, noticing Holly studying the room, “it would have been less expensive to cover the walls with cheap dark fabric, hang lights and call them stars.”

  “Yes, it would have,” Holly snapped. “That’s a great idea. Why didn’t you mention it?” How dared Laurel try to spoil her evening?

  “You wouldn’t have listened. You were determined to do it all by yourself.” Laurel waved across the room. “There’s Gus.”

  “That’s not true! You had plenty of time to speak up!”

  Laurel raised an eyebrow. “Really? Listen to yourself.”

  Holly brought a hand to her curls, jerking it back before she could succumb to her nervous habit. “We were all in this together.”

  Laurel adjusted the bodice of her silver lamé dress. “Whether we wanted to be or not.”

  She didn’t expect gratitude, Holly told herself as she watched Laurel slink off. She took a deep breath, mentally composing herself and letting the feeling of triumph return.

  This was her night. Holly Hall was back on top. She touched the necklace around her neck, knowing that it—or at least parts of it—was no stranger to opulent charity functions like this one. Amazingly, the few people she’d greeted didn’t seem to remember the sordid accusations surrounding the financing of her father’s last oil well. After dealing with the tedious legal processes for years, Holly felt everyone knew about the insurance company’s claim that her father had deliberately set the well fire that had ultimately led to his death.

  Dallas accepted her without question. Holly was lightheaded with happiness as the last possible barrier to her success fell.

  She beamed as she noticed Ivy approaching her through the crowd. Never mind Laurel. Ivy had come through for her. “Isn’t this—” Holly hesitated—“perfect?”

  The edge of Ivy’s lips barely curved. “Here.” She handed Holly a piece of paper.

  Holly scanned it quickly. “He doesn’t want to be paid right this minute, does he?” she asked tersely. How could the workmen present her with an invoice during the ball? “It’s a time card. The carpenters need you to sign it.” Holly frowned. “Hey, this is double time.”

  “You insisted that the men stay on call all night.”

  Holly scribbled her name on the sheet of paper. “Insurance. If anything collapses, help will be close by.”

  “Of course.” Ivy took the paper from her and walked regally away, the daring white beaded dress she’d borrowed from Laurel earning her admiring looks.

  So Ivy was angry at her, too. Great. Silver Siren and the Ice Princess. Sighing, Holly wandered over to the table where she’d left her coffee cup. Her polar bears, some recycled from Adam’s tree for luck, cavorted on rock crystal.

  Where was Adam, anyway? The crowd thickened. Restlessly, Holly wandered around the perimeter of the ballroom, unnecessarily checking on the activities, her eyes darting to the tunnel entrance every few seconds.

  A flash of light caught her eye, telling her Gus had begun photographing. Holly approached the sleigh set in front of a snowy backdrop. Gus had agreed to split half the profits of his souvenir photos with the Winter Ball committee. Mrs. Fitzhugh had accused Holly of a high-school prom mentality, but Holly had insisted on the photo gimmick. Couples posed in the sleigh, either as they were, or with the men borrowing a cape and top hat, and the women a fur-trimmed cloak.

  Laurel, perched in the sleigh, leaned forward and crossed her legs, the clinging silver dress parting to reveal an inordinate amount of skin. Holly’s eyes narrowed.

  “Lighten up, Holly. They’re supposed to be attracting attention.” The Ice Princess had returned.

  “And succeeding admirably.” Holly smiled stiffly. “What are you eating?”

  “Champagne ice from the Ice Palace.” Ivy licked her spoon. “Do you think you might have overdone the ice theme a tad?”

  “No!” Holly said sharply.

  Ivy backed away. “Just asking.”

  Holly touched her sister’s arm. “Look . . . I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just want everything to be perfect.”

  Reaching out, Ivy gently took Holly’s coffee cup and set it on a table. “No more of this for you. Makes you jumpy.”

  “I can handle it.”

  Ivy shook her head. “Nope. You look like a hag as it is.”

  “I didn’t spend all day getting ready, unlike some people.” Holly darted an accusing glance toward Laurel, who had draped herself next to an older man she’d coaxed into posing with her.

  “That’s not fair!” Ivy lowered her voice. “Laurel traipsed all over town for you. Whose idea was the diamond ice, anyway? Who got the diamond gift certificates?”

  Holly’s shoulders sagged. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Her buoyant spirit collapsed. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”

  Ivy’s voice softened. “Too much caffeine. You’d be in worse shape, but Adam sent over some decaf beans and we’ve been mixing them in with your coffee.”

  “Adam did that?” Holly’s spirits rose again.

  “Yeah, remember him?” Ivy placed her empty glass next to Holly’s coffee cup.

  Holly exhaled forcefully. “Adam knew how it was going to be. I didn’t make him any promises.”

  Ivy fingered the white silk of Holly’s dress. “It wouldn’t have mattered if you had, would it?”

  A numbing pain started in Holly’s chest and radiated outward. Ivy met her look without apology. There was a bitterness in Ivy’s eyes that recalled the day they’d quarreled about the money.

  Holly took a deep breath as the pain lessened. “Things don’t always happen the way we’d like them to.”

  Ivy’s gaze shifted to just over Holly’s shoulder. Holly turned and saw Adam striding toward them.

  He’d come! With the way her sisters had been acting, Holly had half expected not to see Adam tonight. But here he was, coming to share her success.

  It was the first time she had seen or spoken to him since he’d walked out of her office that day. Holly felt a rush of pride as she watched his approach. His tuxedo fit perfectly and was an elegant, unadorned black. The errant lock of hair, which usually fell onto his forehead, had been tamed. He looked wonderful. She’d missed him so much. Maybe they could take that trip together next weekend . . .

  “Adam!” Holly laughingly threw herself at his chest.

  Knocked off balance by Holly’s unexpected greeting, Adam held her close, steadying her before gently unwrapping her arms.

  “I knew you’d come!” Happiness shone in her eyes.

  “Did you?” Adam asked quietly, his blue eyes cold.

  Holly’s smile froze. Not Adam, too. Everyone who meant anything to her had abandoned her during this project. Hadn’t she learned she could depend only on herself?

  “Ivy.” Adam’s gaze warmed as he greeted her sister. “You look stunning.” His eyes flicked over Holly. “You look horrible.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “White isn’t your color.”

  “Black isn’t either, anymore,” Ivy commented. “She ran herself down so much, her dress didn’t fit, so we sewed her a new one out of the leftover silk.”

  “Figures.” Adam’s face softened slightly as he saw beneath Holly’s indomitable facade. “When was the last time you ate?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he propelled Holly toward the kitchen. “Are those masca
ra smudges or circles under your eyes?”

  “Why did you bother to come?” Holly jerked her arm away. “You’re spoiling everything. Leave me alone.”

  Adam ignored her. “Sit.” He pushed her into a seat among the white branches ringing the room and started to go through the doors into the kitchen.

  “Hey, don’t bother the caterers,” Holly called after him even as the scent of food wafted through the open door.

  Adam gave her a disgusted look and disappeared through the doors. He returned in moments, bearing a plate of food. “Eat.”

  Holly clenched her jaw mutinously.

  Adam set the plate on her lap. “Eat, or I’ll force-feed you, creating precisely the kind of scene you wish to avoid tonight.”

  The shrimp looked delicious. Suddenly ravenous, Holly tried one. She reached for the glass Adam patiently held for her, drank and grimaced. “This isn’t champagne.”

  “Apple juice.”

  Adam sat back on the silk-covered folding chair and watched Holly devour the food. Had she been trying to kill herself?

  Adam’s fury had faded the moment he’d seen Holly. Her eyes were enormous in a sallow haggard face. Even her curls had lost their bounce. He wondered if she’d thought about him at all during the past two weeks. He wondered if she’d guessed he had decided not to see her again.

  It was too painful to dream about what they might have had together. His lips tightened. Too painful for him. Holly didn’t appear to be affected one way or the other. But she needed him, couldn’t she see that?

  Just as he needed her.

  “Ivy was right.” Holly stared at her empty plate. “I’ve been drinking too much coffee.”

  One corner of Adam’s mouth lifted just enough to hint at a dimple.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” Holly leaned her head against Adam’s shoulder, causing him to sigh with resignation. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m glad I’m here too.”

  Holly nestled closer and Adam curled his arm around her. A passing waiter took her plate and they sat for several minutes listening to the soft music from the harps and watching people discover the grottoes and explore the Ice Palace.