by A. J. Morrow
She leaned back to make sure she hadn’t missed anything, and found, to her horror, that the walls were as bare as a day in March. No tinsel, no stars, no little Santa Clauses; nothing.
“There’s no decorations,” she whispered to Colette.
Colette arched an eyebrow. “We don’t usually put them up.”
“Like, at all?”
“No.”
Before Tess could say anything else, the door swung open to reveal an older woman. She stood tall, with the same stern, unshakable expression as the one Colette wore in a business meeting, and with a similar slim figure. The woman, however, differed slightly in her appearance; her chocolate hair was lined with genteel silver strands, and there were slight wrinkles around her eyes. A pair of black glasses was perched on the end of her nose, and she wore a long black dress and chain of pearls that would have looked out of place on Colette, who preferred more discreet jewelry. Despite these subtle differences, it was clear that this woman was Colette’s mother.
“Good afternoon,” Tess said, putting on her best smile. She reached out a hand to the older woman.
The woman’s grip was firmer than Tess had expected. “Afternoon. You must be Theresa.”
“Please call me Tess.”
The woman raised an eyebrow, though whether it was at the shortened name or Tess’s outfit, which she was clearly judging, Tess couldn’t tell.
“My name is Marian. Do come in.”
Colette and Marian exchanged—rather stilted, in Tess’s opinion—pleasantries as she stepped into the warm embrace of the house. Unfortunately, there seemed to be as much of a lack of decorations inside as there were outside, and Tess couldn’t help but be disappointed. It didn’t feel like Christmas without decorations, and she couldn’t even see a Christmas tree. She hoped they just hadn’t put one up yet, or she was going to be seriously upset.
The house itself was gorgeous, of course. Bright, airy rooms were visible from where Tess stood, with polished wooden furniture and impressive paintings hung on every wall. The staircase leading up from the entrance hall was covered in a thick red carpet, and the muted winter light gave everything a soft glow.
“We haven’t got long until the gala,” said Marian, “Colette will show you up to your room, so you can get changed.”
Colette placed an awkward hand on Tess’s back—for appearances, Tess told herself, even as her heart fluttered—and led her up the wide set of stairs. On the second floor was a long corridor, with three or four doors on either side, and a painting of an old man at the end. Colette opened the second door and ushered Tess inside.
“So,” said Tess, “this is your childhood room, huh?” She rocked back on her heels as she took in the room. It was neat and clean, just like everything Colette owned, and less deeply old-fashioned than the rest of the house. A black bed frame dominated the center of the room, with a matching black desk and chair to the side. There was a walk-in closet and a cork board decorated with old photos and train tickets, organized to fit perfectly with the wooden frame. The window opened up to a balcony, and right in the middle of the queen-sized bed was a fluffy cat plushy. “That’s actually adorable.”
Colette’s ears went red. “Yes, it is. I’m afraid it’s not been redecorated since I was fifteen.”
Tess laughed. “Were you the world’s most serious fifteen-year-old? I was kind of expecting boy bands and friendship bracelets, to be honest.”
“Why, is that what your bedroom used to look like?”
“Please,” said Tess, “you’ve seen my bedroom. You know it still looks exactly like that.”
“Indeed.” Colette stifled a laugh as she moved toward the closet. Their bags had been placed by the bed, presumably by the driver, and Colette reached over to unzip one of hers. “You’ll need to borrow one of my dresses, I’m afraid. Can’t have you turning up in a kitten jumper.”
Tess glanced down at her jumper. “I think it’s festive.”
“Maybe so, but it isn’t in line with the dress code. Luckily for you, we’re about the same size.”
Tess frowned. There was no way they were the same size; Colette was tall and slim, sort of willowy, while Tess was a head shorter and rounder, with a softness to every feature that contrasted with Colette’s strikingly sharp appearance. Apparently, Colette didn’t see her expression, as within a minute she’d handed Tess a heap of pastel pink fabric from within her wardrobe.
“I haven’t worn this in years,” said Colette, “pink isn’t exactly conducive to the image I like to present, but it should fit you just fine.”
Tess held the dress up to her and was surprised to find that it mapped onto her body shockingly well. “Women’s dress sizes truly are a mystery,” she said.
Colette was busy with her own outfit, so Tess hopped awkwardly into the en suite bathroom and changed. When the zip was up, she could see why the dress wasn’t Colette’s style. The fabric was soft and comfortable against Tess’s skin, with a flattering high waist and gentle neckline. It was very much to Tess’s taste; sleeveless, a little retro, and with a stylish amount of lace. When Tess examined herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but be pleased.
“What do you think?” she said as she stepped out of the bathroom.
Colette looked up from the mirror on her desk, where she’d been putting on makeup. Her expression changed quickly from indifference to something else—shock, maybe—as her mouth dropped and her eyes went wide. “Um, beautiful. Really beautiful,” Colette stammered, “it suits you.”
Tess grinned and came to sit on the floor next to Colette. In less than a day, she already felt more comfortable in front of her boss. Admittedly, she had to keep reminding herself to relax, but still. It was getting easier.
“Will you do my makeup? I’m a bit useless at it,” asked Tess.
Colette smiled, her face half turned away so Tess wouldn’t see. “Of course. Can’t have you turning up like you’ve just had a full day of work and packing and airplane flights.”
“But I have.”
Colette reached for Tess’s chin and began to dusk makeup onto her cheeks. “I know. It was a joke.”
“We have very different senses of humor.”
“Indeed.”
The next few minutes were spent in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. For all Colette’s icy exterior, Tess knew how much trust was being put on her, and she felt honored that Colette had chosen her for the task. Maybe it was the crush talking, but she thought that Colette had really warmed to her since she’d agreed to the arrangement.
When the makeup was done, they hurried downstairs to meet with the others they were traveling with. Tess was quickly introduced to John, Colette’s father, and her brother Arthur, as well as the elusive Mr. Sylvestre, the family patriarch. He was as tall as the rest of his family, with snowy white hair and a truly magnificent mustache.
As they filed into several cars, Tess kept quiet. The family talked among themselves, catching up on local gossip and business news, and a great feeling of unease crept up on Tess. As Arthur and Colette began a discussion on the stock market, she realized just how out of her depth she was.
Luckily, the car ride was short. They arrived at the hotel within fifteen minutes, and Tess was once again taken aback by the location. Trees lit by candles illuminated the outside of the building, which stood out against the quickly darkening sky as a haven from the cold. The hotel was made of white stone, with pillars at the entrance and bright lights inside. A throng of well-dressed people made their way through the door, and Tess quickly joined them.
“Don’t worry,” Colette whispered into her ear. “Just follow my lead.”
Tess nodded, but her smile didn’t hide the nerves she felt.
“Take my arm,” said Colette, “you’re my date, after all.”
“Right.” Tess took Colette’s arm and, as she hooked her elbow around Colette’s, she tried not to feel too happy about it. She knew the date was fake, but she couldn’t help it. Colette was right next to her, re
al and in the flesh, a vision of everything Tess admired, and she’d chosen her to stand next to her. Nerves and excitement mixed together in Tess’s stomach to make some weird, jumpy mess. Tess just had to hope that she didn’t embarrass either of them.
The inside of the hotel where the gala was being held was just as luxurious as the outside. Decked out like a ballroom, with Christmas decorations everywhere and waiters at every table, it truly was a sight to remember. Tess stared at the chandelier hung above the marble floor, not quite able to believe that this was a charity function. Colette, to her credit, took it all in stride, and appeared to be completely in her element. She shepherded Tess from the door to a table laden with all sorts of desert, most notably a chocolate fountain that left Tess drooling, and leaned in to give her the rundown of each of the guests.
Lights glittered all around them, twinkling off tall champagne glasses and the shiny gold ornaments hung on the bushels of evergreens centered on each table. Graceful, smiling people swept their partners into the middle of the room to waltz in time with the music. The band of classical musicians stood in the far corner of the room, supplying a lighthearted Christmas tune for the dancers.
“This…wow,” said Tess, “I was not expecting this.”
Colette smiled, revealing a slight dimple on each side of her face. “What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know; something more like my senior prom, if I’m honest.”
“I hope this isn’t a disappointment.”
Tess felt the blood rush to her face as she looked up at Colette. She wore a stunning red dress, off the shoulder, with a long skirt. A slit in the skirt revealed her leg and the fancy high heels beneath, and the look was finished off by Colette’s hair, which had been curled beautifully around her shoulders. It was impressive how fast she’d been able to turn herself into an actual goddess after their busy day, but Tess couldn’t say she was surprised. That’s just how Colette was.
“Not at all, not at all,” said Tess, “I don’t think anyone could be disappointed with this. It’s awesome.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Tess stiffened as Colette wound an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “My cousin, Bernard, is coming over,” said Colette, a wide smile suddenly plastered over her face.
“Lettie, is that you?” said a deep voice to the side of them.
Tess turned her head to see a large, muscular man, about thirty or so, with dark chocolate hair and a clean-shaven face. Like Colette, his features were sharp and handsome, but his eyes lacked the same striking quality that hers had. In the corner of his lip was a smudge of red—from the wine glass in his hand, Tess guessed—and he carried himself with a swagger that she instantly disliked. She wasn’t normally a judgmental person, so Tess decided to give him a fair chance. She’d been uncomfortable with every member of Colette’s family she’d met so far, after all, so maybe she was just prejudiced.
“Bernard, it’s lovely to see you.” Colette turned around to greet him, her arm still firmly around Tess’s waist. “Tess, this is my cousin, Bernard. Bernard, this is Theresa.”
Bernard took Tess’s hand in his own and kissed it gently, his eyes raking up and down her body. Tess shrank under his gaze, but managed not to rip her hand away. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise.”
Bernard dropped her hand and offered her a glass of wine from a nearby waiter. “Now, tell me, my dear, are you the famous Tess that Colette’s been telling us about?”
Tess glanced up at Colette. She hadn’t realized Colette had used her name when she’d lied to her family about having a partner. Tess wasn’t sure this was the time to think about it, or that she even knew what to think.
“Yes, this is the famous Tess,” said Colette. Her grip tightened protectively around Tess’s waist. “I’m so glad you can finally meet her.”
Bernard laughed. “Oh, I’m sure the rest of the family is just as glad.”
Tess took a sip from her wine. She got the impression that what Bernard had said was not a compliment.
“We only had a short time to make introductions before the gala, but Grandfather seemed pleased,” said Colette.
“I’m sure he did.” Bernard’s eyes narrowed. “But what about your mother?”
Colette didn’t say anything, and Tess was still trying not to think about Colette’s arm around her waist.
“Well, uh, we didn’t speak for long, but Marian seemed wonderful,” Tess said eventually, hoping to save Colette from her obvious embarrassment.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I look forward to knowing her better.”
Bernard lifted his glass up, as if for a toast, before taking another sip. “My, my, you are…certainly not what Colette described, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Not at all. You’re quite different yourself.”
Colette snorted and Tess couldn’t help but grin at Bernard’s expression. The whole exchange was more of a chess match than a conversation, and, if she was honest, Tess just wasn’t the sort of person who was good at family politics. Her own family was much less…complicated. At least she’d had some sort of a win against the jibing Bernard, though.
“Well, Colette, I won’t keep you,” he said, his mouth pinched at the corners. “Be sure to give my love to Adam, won’t you?” He turned away and disappeared into the throng of people.
“Huh,” said Tess, “he was…interesting.”
“That’s one word for it.”
Tess glanced back at the crowd, hoping she didn’t look too nervous with Colette’s arm still around her waist. “Who did he mean when he said ‘Adam’?”
Colette frowned, her gaze unnervingly cold. “My ex. We dated a few years ago and my family were fond of him. He had a very…business like mindset, I suppose you could say.”
“Right. Seems like a bit of a low blow, if you ask me. Does Bernard always bring up your exes?”
“As often as he can.”
Tess took another sip of her wine, wondering about this Adam person. Selfishly, she hoped that whatever flame he and Colette had, it’d burned out long ago, but she knew she had no real right to hope that. She was only there as Colette’s pretend girlfriend, after all.
“Do you want to go dance?” Tess asked.
“Dance?”
“Yes, dance—you know, the thing where you put one foot in front of the other in time to the music?” Tess raised her eyebrow, the grin back on her face. She broke out from Colette’s grip and put the now empty glass down on a table. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”
Colette sighed, but she was holding back a smile as Tess took her hand and dragged her out onto the dance floor. “I didn’t know you could dance.”
“Oh, I can’t,” Tess laughed, “but that’s the fun bit.”
Colette’s eyes widened.
“Don’t worry, you can teach me.” Tess placed one hand on Colette’s shoulder and the other in her hand. “I’ve watched so many rom-coms, though, so I’m sure I’ll pick it up.”
Colette’s lax grip tightened and she took the lead. “Just follow my movements, like a mirror,” she said as she led them across the dance floor. “Count out your movements; one-two-three four, one-two-three-four…”
Tess stumbled as her foot went forward at the same time as Colette’s and she fell into her arms. “Careful there,” said Colette, “can’t have you falling for me, now can we?”
Tess felt the blood rush to her face. Was Colette flirting with her? If anyone else had said it, then Tess would have thought yes. Her tongue hung limp in her mouth as her brain tried to catch up with the sudden pit of nerves in her stomach.
“Right. Well, I’m sure you’d just sweep me off my feet,” Tess said, laughing, and she immediately regretted it. Colette didn’t seem to hear, though, and lifted her up again. She held their bodies close together as they circled the dance floor, dresses swaying behind them.
“You know, you’re not so bad at this,” sai
d Colette. They’d fallen into a steady rhythm, not quite professional, but there was a certain awkward grace to the way they danced around each other, both literally and figuratively.
“I told you it’d be fun.”
“I never said it’d be fun.”
Tess’s nose wrinkled up as she giggled. “Yeah, right. It is fun, though, isn’t it?”
Colette’s lip inched upwards. “I suppose.”
“I’ve decided I like dancing.”
“Have you?” Colette tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at Tess. “Are you drunk?”
“A little tipsy, maybe. I have a low alcohol tolerance.” Tess laughed, the sound so infectious it seemed to soften even Colette.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
It might have been Tess’s imagination, or even the alcohol, but something was buzzing in the air between them. Warmth, electricity, desire—whatever you want to call it—it fizzled in the tiny spaces where their bodies failed to meet. Colette’s arm was firm and strong around Tess’s waist, lips only inches above hers, and her torso was flush against Tess. More than anything, Tess wanted to tilt Colette’s face downwards and kiss her, right then and there. She knew that was a bad idea, though.
When the dance ended, they glided back to the edge of the room, Tess giddy from a mix of alcohol and whatever had just happened. Another glass of wine later, she was being introduced to business associates and family friends alike, and having a wonderful time. Colette stayed close to her the entire time, leaning in to offer sarcastic comments and witty remarks about each new acquaintance as soon as they were out of earshot.
The music shifted into a more laid-back Christmas carol and Colette left to get drinks; Tess tried not to look awkward, but even her usual good mood couldn’t hide the way she felt like a boat unmoored in unfamiliar waters. To her delight, though, she wasn’t alone for long—within minutes she was joined by Mr. Sylvestre, Colette’s grandfather.
“Tess, isn’t it?” he said as he settled into the space opposite her.
“Yes, sir.”
“Please, call me Gus.”
Tess smiled. “Okay, Gus.”
He was tall and slim, like Colette, with startling green eyes and a wicked sense of humor. His mustache covered the top of his lip and a substantial part of his cheek; on anyone else it would have looked silly, but on Gus it just looked dignified.