Deck the Halls

by Leah Sanders

  Mrs. Hall stepped in on Kate’s right side. “And who is this young lady, Kate?” She held out her hand in greeting toward Cleo. Something Mrs. Hall rarely did.

  “Mrs. Hall—”

  Mrs. Hall cleared her throat and shook her head, her way of telling Kate to introduce her professionally.

  “Excuse me, Cynthia Skye-Adams, this is Cleo Klausse. Cleo, Cynthia Skye-Adams.”

  Cleo took Mrs. Hall’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Cleo had no idea who Cynthia Skye-Adams was. Kate fought the urge to laugh. The disappointment emanating from Mrs. Hall in that moment was almost palpable, but she forced herself to bury it for the sake of the business at hand.

  “It’s lovely to meet you too. You were absolutely stunning tonight.”

  “That’s exactly what I said to myself,” Tori Van Nuys said, suddenly appearing on Kate’s left.

  Mrs. Hall glared past Kate at the woman encroaching on her territory, then plied a carefully crafted smile and turned back to Cleo.

  “Did you design this dress yourself, Cleo?” Mrs. Hall asked.

  Cleo looked at Kate with a question in her eyes. Kate wasn’t sure how to help her. She felt awful for putting Cleo in this situation.

  “No…”

  “Well, who is your designer?” Mrs. Hall pressed closer.

  “Was it Linda?” asked Tori Van Nuys, closing in from the other side, almost edging Kate out completely.

  Cleo looked from one woman to the other, then back to Kate. She seemed utterly overwhelmed and confused. Kate smiled and nodded almost imperceptibly, willing her to say the words.

  “It wasn’t Linda,” Cleo finally said, then lifting a hand toward Kate, she added, “It was Kate.”

  “Kate who?” demanded Mrs. Hall, barely holding onto her thin semblance of forced sweetness.

  But Tori Van Nuys took a step back, and turning to Kate, asked, “You designed this dress, Kate?”

  Kate nodded. Her heart was up in her throat. “Yes.”

  Mrs. Hall fell back as though she’d been slapped, and her gaze traveled between the dress and Kate, once, twice, three times. “Are you certain?” The question was directed at Cleo.

  “As sure as I’m wearing it.” Cleo grinned at Kate. “I don’t know much about fashion, but I do know that Kate is a genius at it.”

  One of the men from the royal court approached Cleo from behind and tapped on her shoulder. “Will you dance with me, Cleo?”

  Cleo blushed and took his offered hand. “I’ll talk to you later, Kate.”

  Kate watched as Cleo returned to the dance floor.

  “I’d love to see your portfolio, Kate.” It was Tori Van Nuys. “If your other designs are anything like this, I can find a place for you on my design floor.”

  “Now just a minute, Kate is my assistant. If anyone is going to look at her portfolio, it will be me.” She turned to Kate. “Bring me your portfolio first thing in the morning.”

  “You mean you haven’t even seen your own assistant’s portfolio? That’s ridiculous, Cynthia!”

  “Don’t you tell me what to do with my assistant, Tori!”

  A warm hand hooked Kate’s arm and coaxed her gently backward. The two women were so entrenched in their argument, they didn’t even notice. They just continued whisper-yelling, completely oblivious to the rest of the world around them.

  Luca whispered in her ear, “It’s a masterpiece, Kate. Nothing you said prepared me for the reality of it. You are an amazing designer…” He twirled her around to face him. Wrapping his left arm around her waist and taking her right hand in his, he swept her onto the dance floor. “…And an even more amazing woman.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said, the heat rising to her cheeks. “But between Tori Van Nuys and Cynthia Skye-Adams, my dream of working on the design floor might actually come true. I feel like the luckiest person alive right now!”

  “They’re the lucky ones, Kate. Whoever you choose. I believe that.”

  Their eyes met for a long moment, and the dance floor suddenly felt very crowded.

  “Can we maybe get some air?” Kate asked.

  Luca nodded and led her out to the terrace overlooking the back lawn. It was snowing, and the twinkling Christmas lights reflected off the fresh powder blanketing the ground.

  “It’s so beautiful,” said Kate, staring out over the garden “I’ll be sorry to leave.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to,” Luca said. His gaze bore into hers. “I know I can’t ask you to stay, so I won’t, but I do hope you know that you could… if you wanted to.”

  Kate turned to face him. It wasn’t as simple as that. She might want to stay, but if she was finally getting her shot at designing, and she gave it up before it even started, she would never forgive herself. The cold wind chilled her bare arms, and she trembled.

  “Are you cold?” Luca slipped his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders, wrapping it tightly around her. “We can go back inside if you like.” He kept his eyes on hers, expectantly.

  “I just… I have to see if I can do this.” She pulled his jacket tighter around her. But if she was honest with herself, it wasn’t just the wind that was causing her to tremble.

  “I know. But you can’t blame a guy for wishing.”

  Kate couldn’t be sure in the dim light of the terrace, but she thought there were tears glistening in Luca’s eyes. She wanted to make it better.

  “Hmm…” she said, glancing around the terrace. “You know what I find strange?”

  “What’s that?”

  “At the carnival they had mistletoe hung up every five feet, but here? Not a twig. You suppose Jake used it all up?”

  Luca raised his head to study the rafters of the overhang. “That is odd.” His eyes returned to hers, and a broad smile stretched across his lips. “But you are right about one thing.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Mm-hm. You are the luckiest person alive. Because I just happen…” Luca reached into the pocket of the jacket she had wrapped around her shoulders and withdrew a tiny sprig of mistletoe. “…to have the last bit of mistletoe in the entire state of Wyoming…” He held it up for her inspection. “…right here.”

  She took it gingerly between her thumb and forefinger, drawing it in for a closer look. “Well, what do you know. And here I thought there was nothing to see in Wyoming.” And whether it was the boost of confidence from the success with Cleo’s dress, or the champagne she’d had with dinner, Kate couldn’t be sure—she raised up on her tiptoes, dangled it over his head, and whispered, “Oh, ho ho, look who’s under the mistletoe now.”

  Luca kissed her then, slowly, working his lips over hers like an artist’s brush painting a masterpiece. Her whole body burned under his touch. She wasn’t cold anymore, but in that moment, she wished she could freeze time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  See the Flowing Bowl Before Us

  ON CHRISTMAS EVE MORNING, WHEN KATE arrived at Mrs. Hall’s suite for her daily briefing, Jake answered the door. He wore gray dress slacks and a vest accented by a royal blue shirt and black tie. It was strange that he was in his finery so early in the morning.

  “Won’t you come in, Kate?” he said with a smile that, for once, held no irony.

  Kate frowned. Something was definitely off.

  “Would you like to sit down? Mother will be with you shortly.” He gestured toward a wingback chair. “In the meantime, would you like some coffee? Perhaps a scone? There’s cranberry, blueberry, or raspberry. The pastry chef at this place is superb.”

  It was the most Jake had ever said to her without adding an inappropriate innuendo. Kate raised an eyebrow and studied him closely. Maybe Jake had a twin brother she’d never met. Of course, that would make Jake the evil twin.

  She shook her head. “No, thank you.” She sat down on the edge of the seat. If this was to be an ambush, she didn’t want to get too comfortable.

  When the door to Mrs. Hall’s bedroom burst open, Kat
e’s heart jumped up to her throat, and she stood abruptly, not wanting to be caught sitting on the job.

  “Welcome, Kate! I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.” Mrs. Hall wore her brightest smile and was dressed in her favorite power suit reserved for high profile meetings. “No, please, sit down, sit down. Did Jake offer you a scone?”

  “Yes, he did, thank you.” Kate furrowed her brow and cautiously lowered herself back into the chair. It was beginning to feel an awful lot like she was trapped in an episode of the Twilight Zone. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hall, is there a conference call this morning?” She searched the calendar on her phone. “I don’t have it on the schedule.” Kate winced, awaiting the inevitable tongue-lashing about how inefficient she was.

  It never came.

  “No, no. Nothing on the schedule this morning. It’s Christmas Eve, darling. I’m not Ebenezer Scrooge.” She sat on the settee across from Kate and stared at her in expectation.

  Kate wasn’t sure what she was waiting for. This was usually the moment when she ran through the agenda for the day and gave Kate a list of extra duties longer than her scarf.

  “Ordinarily, I’d ask my assistant to contact you and formally request your portfolio.” She laughed awkwardly. “But well…” Mrs. Hall gestured toward her with an open hand. “…that won’t exactly work in this case.”

  There was a weighty pause, then Mrs. Hall cleared her throat and leaned forward. “Listen, Kate, I don’t want you to talk to Tori Van Nuys until you and I have had a chance to discuss your future. Will you do that for me?”

  Now the twilight zone made sense—Jake on his best behavior, Mrs. Hall’s power suit… scones, for crying out loud.

  “Mrs. Hall, I’m so sorry. Ms. Van Nuys sent a messenger for my portfolio an hour ago. I didn’t realize… I’m sorry.”

  Mrs. Hall inhaled sharply, but quickly recovered her sweet façade. “I see. Well, I can’t say that I blame you, Kate. To be quite honest, if I were Tori, I would have done the exact same thing. She’s a shrewd woman.” She leaned back against her seat once again, no doubt wanting to appear nonchalant about the whole matter. She didn’t realize that Kate knew all her body language. She’d been reading it for five years. Inside, the woman was throwing fits.

  “I’ll tell you what, Kate. I’ve been thinking about this for some time now, and I am prepared to offer you a sizable contract to stay on with me.” She waved her hand dismissively, like the whole thing was of no consequence to her.

  “On the design floor?”

  “We can discuss the terms later.” She stood and walked to the desk, scribbled something on the notepad there, ripped off the page, and handed it to Kate.

  Kate looked at it and froze.

  It was an astonishing figure.

  “I know this is a lot at once, so I want you to take some time to think about it. Call your family. Enjoy the party tonight and your holiday tomorrow. You can give me your answer when we get back to New York.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hall. That’s more than generous.” Kate stood and walked to the door.

  “Kate…” Mrs. Hall followed close behind her. “You’re very talented.” She wore her signature angelic smile as she opened the door to see Kate out.

  Once in the hall with the door closed behind her, Kate texted Luca.

  ME: YOU’RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED.

  KATE ADMIRED HER REFLECTION in the mirror. There was no use in letting the gown go to waste, and since Mrs. Hall had given Kate the evening off to celebrate Christmas Eve as she saw fit, she saw fit to attend the resort’s traditional Christmas Eve dinner party in the gown she had designed for Mrs. Hall.

  Mrs. Stradley had been able to do some last-minute alterations for her, and it was a perfect fit.

  There was a knock on her door, and Kate took one last look before she turned to open it.

  “Hi.” Seeing Luca in his tuxedo with the gold tie and vest, matched perfectly to her gown, made Kate’s breath catch in her throat.

  “You look exquisite. Are you ready?” He offered his arm to her as if he were a prince and she were Cinderella. She felt a bit like Cinderella at that — minus the glass slippers. Those would have been a horrifying mistake.

  They made their way to the banquet hall where the party was beginning. They were a few minutes late, but Luca had reserved their seats. As they neared the entrance, Luca’s phone buzzed.

  “I’m sorry, Kate. I have to take this. Resort business.” He left her by the door and took a few steps into the corridor to answer it.

  Kate waited, admiring the decorations. She was about to round the corner to see what had been done in the banquet room when she heard voices just on the other side of the wall.

  “Are you really planning to put her on the design floor?” It was Jake’s voice. Kate leaned closer to hear.

  “It’s clear that she has a spark of talent, but honestly, I can’t afford to lose her as an assistant. It takes simply ages to get them just how I want them. Oh, I’ll throw her a couple little design jobs here and there, to keep her happy. Nothing that matters too much.”

  Jake laughed. The sound of it sent a chill down Kate’s spine.

  “I’ll make sure the contract is for her current job but with a clause up front making everything she designs property of the company. That ought to cover us on the off-chance she does something inspired.”

  “You mean like that gown last night?”

  “Exactly. Starting with that gown and everything since. Trust me, Jake. I’ve seen the starry-eyed dreamers before. They’re so happy to get a designing contract, they don’t care what the terms are.”

  Kate felt nauseous.

  That two-bit fraud. After all the sweetness and the don’t-talk-to-Tori-until-I-have-my-chance talk. Kate could feel the pent-up frustration and stress from her job these past few years boiling to the surface, and she knew they were in danger of a very real explosion at any moment. Would it be so bad? Probably. Here in front of all these people.

  She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and released it slowly, consciously blowing out the tension with it.

  “Everything okay?” Luca asked, returning from his phone call.

  “Not really, but I’ll be fine. How about you?” She pointed at his phone. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. Just a vendor scheduling thing. Nothing major.” Luca slid the phone back into his pocket and held up his arm for her. “Ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, hooking her hand around his arm. Kate wished she could be as sure as she sounded.

  Arm in arm, Kate and Luca strode into the room. Luca pointed out their table, and they began the walk through the maze of people. The room suddenly grew quieter and the whispers started. Kate wasn’t sure what was wrong, but she kept moving. Her grip on Luca’s arm tightened.

  He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “They like your dress. That’s all.”

  Kate could feel their eyes on her, and she couldn’t stop the heat from moving up her neck and into her ears. Luca led her to their seats, where he held her chair while she sat down then took the seat on her left.

  There was a string quartet playing Stille Nacht in a corner of the room, and in the center of each table was a small fondue pot with a basket of bread cubes and long sticks.

  “Fondue?” Luca asked, stabbing a piece of bread with one of the sticks and offering it to Kate.

  “Sure.” She took the stick from him and dipped it into the pot, coating the bread with the melted cheese.

  “Swiss tradition says that if a man drops his bread into the pot, he has to buy a bottle of wine for the table. But if a woman drops hers…” He paused, and there was mischief in his grin.

  “What?” she asked. Her hand was suspended above the table, holding the bread precariously over the pot.

  “She must kiss the man seated on her left. So, be careful with that… or don’t.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “That sounds made up,” Kate said, carefully drawing her s
tick of bread back to her plate.

  “Of course, it’s made up. Brilliant Swiss men made it up to get kisses from pretty girls. The clumsier the better.” As if to punctuate his statement, a squeal erupted from a nearby table, and a woman in a blue dress leaned to her left and kissed the man sitting there.

  “See?” Luca said. He pointed to the folded cards situated in front of each plate. “All the Christmas Eve traditions are written right there, so there will be no excuses.”

  “Is that why you sat there?”

  “Bien entendu—of course.”

  Kate picked up a card and scanned it. “Hmm… I could really use that bottle of wine though.”

  Luca stretched across the table, impaling another chunk of bread on a stick and dipping it in the pot. “Who’s to say we can’t both get what we want?” He gave it a little shake and the bread plopped into the cheese. “Oops.” He lifted his hand and waved, catching the attention of a server, who hurried over to their table.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “We will need a bottle of wine, George, if you don’t mind.”

  George nodded and hurried toward a table near the wall, fully stocked with bottles of fine wine. He returned directly, uncorked the bottle, and poured them each a small amount, then left the bottle with Luca and rushed away to help another table.

  “Your turn,” Luca said, nodding toward the fondue pot.

  Kate studied Luca for a moment. He was adorable—the twinkle in his eyes, the roguish smile. Who could resist? She grabbed another stick and speared at the bread, then plunged it into the cheese. When she pulled the stick back out, the bread was missing.

  “Darn it,” she said, shrugging.

  Luca inclined his head and raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. “So clumsy, Kate.” He crooked a finger at her and pointed at his lips. “Pay up.”

  Kate leaned into him and pressed her lips to his, lingering much longer than she had intended. The warmth of his kiss spread through her, and she didn’t want to stop. Not yet.

  The familiar sound of a throat clearing startled her, and she drew back, gazing into Luca’s eyes for a long moment. He gestured with his eyes in the direction the sound had come from.