The Mills & Boon Christmas Wishes Collection. Maisey Yates
I said, faux-haughtily. “Yesterday was great, even Mom was there and, well, it went pretty well. She stayed the whole time, and get this – she’s even started baking with Aunt Bessie.”
Micah’s mouth fell open. “Annabelle is baking? And had Christmas lunch with all of you?”
“Right? Wonders will never cease.”
“Maybe she just needed time, Clio. Or needed you back,” he said more softly.
I nodded.
We chatted more about their Christmas, laughing about the bawdy songs they’d taught the talking elf and exclaiming over Micah’s family traditions, which basically involved watching every Christmas movie ever made.
As we were walking back toward the house, Kai walked out from the woods, his presence making me jelly-legged. Damn it.
“Hey, guys,” he called out, “need some help?”
They waved him over, and wished each other well.
It reminded me… “What are you guys doing here? The garden could wait another day…”
Isla shook her head. “Not really. We wanted the front to look perfect for guests for the New Year’s Eve party, so we figured we’d make a start. Besides, I had to do something, I spent all day yesterday on my butt eating.”
We laughed. It felt good to be outside, moving around, the lethargy of the day before vanishing.
“Can I tempt you in for coffee?”
“We’ll get this hedge sorted and join you,” Isla said.
“Great.” I wandered back into the lodge, Kai beside me. We kept sneaking looks at each other, and eventually giggled as it got the best of us.
“Nice to see you’re treating your body well again,” I joked.
He waggled his brows. “Didn’t want to let you down, after what you said.”
I blushed, remembering. “My mouth doesn’t always link with my brain.”
“That’s what I love about you,” he said.
Love? Just a figure of speech, Clio.
After coffee Kai went for a shower and I went to the office to finalize my plans; Timothy was due and I didn’t want to be caught unprepared. Masquerade balls were such fun to organize, but they were lots of work and we were already on the back foot time-wise.
I sat heavily, and tried to focus on the paperwork in front of me. There was a knock at the door and Timothy stuck his head in, surprising me, as I hadn’t heard his car in the driveway and wasn’t expecting him until later that afternoon.
“You’re early!” I said, getting up to greet him. He cut a fine figure with his tight jeans and fitted black-knit sweater, smooth skin and deep, intoxicating gaze, like he’d just stepped off the cover of a men’s fashion magazine.
Those deep-brown eyes of his bored straight into me, and for a moment I was a teenager again, belly flip-flopping, before I reined myself in. Being back in Evergreen sometimes brought out that gangly, bright-eyed girl, especially when Tim gave me the special smile he’d reserved only for me, once upon a time.
When he smiled a dimple appeared in his cheek. A memory rushed at me – I used to kiss that spot on his skin. “Yeah, sorry, I should have called. My boss has given me a checklist so long I don’t know if the party will even be possible in such a short amount of time, so I figured we’d better meet earlier.” By the pitch in his voice, it was clear Timothy was nervous. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him anything other than assured. This party was important to him.
I gestured for him to sit down and said, “Well, early is better than late. Would you like some coffee? Or hot chocolate?”
“No, I’m OK. Before we get started, I wanted to give you this.” He reached into his bag and produced an exquisitely wrapped box.
“You shouldn’t have, Tim!” I blushed, feeling like a teenager all over again in his presence. I didn’t know why he had that hold over me. It was like I regressed to the old me – and I wasn’t sure it was a good thing.
“It’ll make you smile, that’s all.”
Unwrapping the present, I pulled out a cassette from the box and laughed. “Oh God, is this our ultimate mix tape? From way back when?” I flicked it over to read the artists and song names, scrawled in Tim’s block writing.
It read:
Clio’s hits of 97
Tubthumping
Barbie Girl
Truly Madly Deeply
Foolish Games
When I came to the fifth song, I burst out laughing, “‘Spice Up Your Life’! Oh my God, do you remember dancing around to the Spice Girls, and thinking they were just the bee’s knees?”
His eyes twinkled with memory. “I remember watching you dance and thinking you were the bee’s knees, if not a little out of tune…”
And just like that I was back in the past – Tim just like he was now, but lankier in his teenage years; I’d taken to wearing sneakers and shiny velour tracksuits, just like Sporty Spice. Reminiscence was a wonderful thing because the fifteen-year-old Clio had had her life all mapped out: she was going marry Tim, have a million babies and work in fashion… It hit me suddenly that none of that had happened. I’d grown up and that girl was a distant memory, just someone I used to know. Still, it was sweet remembering a time I’d felt truly loved by Tim, no matter how young we’d been. You never forgot your first love, and seeing the man Tim had become, I thought I’d chosen well when I was younger.
“We must have been the only teenagers without a CD player back then. Remember?”
He smiled, bringing out the dimples in his cheeks again. “Things have never moved fast in Evergreen, and probably never will.”
“I bet you Aunt Bessie still has her old tape deck that I could play this on. Thanks, Tim. It’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever been given.” It was full of sentimentality and the perfect gift. Each song would conjure a different memory, a different time and place.
“You’re welcome.”
“Right,” I said briskly, setting the cassette on my desk. “We’d better get started. We have a lot to discuss and not much time to organize everything.”
Usually, I could fix any party problem, especially under pressure, but so far all of our events at Cedarwood had been on a tight schedule. I couldn’t wait until we hosted one with some breathing room.
“So, you mentioned a masquerade ball, which is great, they’re so much fun. Today, though, let’s make some of the bigger decisions so we can order what we need and get moving quickly.” We sat across from each other at my desk.
Tim pulled a file from his briefcase. “OK, great.” He ran a hand through his hair. “My boss, Vinnie, wants a masquerade ball with all the bells and whistles. Money is no object. He’s inviting the owner of a construction company, Mr Whittaker, because he’s trying to win the right to sell his group of luxury condominiums, so in essence this party is to win him over.”
I leaned back in my chair, pen in hand. “OK, so we’ll give Mr Whittaker the VIP treatment.”
Timothy’s eyes twinkled. “Yes. We want to woo him, and the New Year’s Eve masquerade party is the perfect place for that. He’ll see we can get things done quickly and efficiently.”
I clapped my hands together, excited. Planning