Page 58 of The Honeymoon Affair

He smiles and expertly begins to ease off the green and gold paper while I watch in anticipation. Inside the box is a silver bookmark with his name engraved on it. I saw it at a local craft and jewellery shop that offered the engraving for free, and bought it even though I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure we’d even see each other before Christmas. I thought the engraver might recognise Charles’s name, but he made no comment whatsoever. I won’t tell Charles this if he asks, though!

‘Thank you,’ he says, ‘It’s lovely.’

‘You probably have loads of bookmarks.’ I’m suddenly concerned that it’s a rubbish gift.

‘Yes, I do. But none like this.’

I smile at him. He puts the box into his coat pocket. And now I’m wondering if I’ve embarrassed him, because he might not have bought me a present. It doesn’t bother me if that’s the case. I’m not exactly expecting one.

We sit in silence for a moment, and then he takes a wrapped package from his other pocket. It’s the same shape as the one I gave him, and I have a sudden horrible feeling that he’s bought me a bookmark too.

‘Are you going to open it?’ he asks as I turn it over in my hand.

Unlike him, I’m not one of those people who can unwrap a gift without reducing the paper to shreds, so the exquisite wrapping is a mess by the time I’ve finished. He hasn’t bought me a bookmark. He’s bought me a watch. A gold-faced Gucci watch with a pink leather wristband. My eyes widen and I look at him.

‘It’s way too much,’ I say. ‘You can’t buy me presents like this.’

‘Don’t you like it?’ He looks disappointed.

‘Of course I like it. It’s beautiful. But it’s an expensive watch, Charles. You can’t give me an expensive watch for Christmas when I’ve only bought you a bookmark.’

‘It’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?’

‘Even so . . .’

‘I’ll be upset if you don’t accept it.’

I examine the watch more closely. It’s really pretty, with a gold bee motif in the centre of the face. I like bees. I like their fuzzy little bodies and their industry in producing honey and looking after their queen.

‘It’s beautiful,’ I say, fastening it round my wrist.

‘It suits you.’ Charles nods approvingly.

And it does.

I love it.

And I have all the feels for him too.

Maybe there’s something more to me and Charles than I first thought.

#ChristmasPresents #FestiveRomance

Chapter 16

Ariel

Inspiration comes of working every day.

Charles Baudelaire

I stride into the offices of Xerxes Publishing, with their views over Lincoln’s Inn Fields, wearing my favourite purple dress, an almost matching purple coat and a pair of black platform boots to add height and presence. I’m a vibrant splash of colour among a lot of black and white, because the Xerxes office is smack in the heart of the legal district. When Graham’s dad set up the business, he rented space from his older brother, who had a law firm, and they’ve been here ever since. Graham sometimes jokes that there’s as much fiction in the law as in his own business. One of his most successful authors – after Charles – writes legal thrillers. Sadly not a client of mine, though.

Graham gets up from behind his large old-fashioned desk with its green leather inlay (a gift to his father from his barrister brother) and walks around to shake my hand and offer me coffee. We share pleasantries as we wait for it to arrive. As yet, he hasn’t said anything about A Caribbean Calypso. I feel a trickle of nervous perspiration on my back and breathe slowly and evenly.

Effie, his PA, comes in with a pot of coffee, milk, sugar and two cups on a red lacquer tray. She places the tray carefully on the desk and pours the coffee.

‘Milk no sugar?’ she says as she looks me.

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