Page 33 of Stuck With My Christmas Crush

“Very stylish. And festive.”

“It’s my thank-you present. For rescuing me. In the storm.”

“Well, there’s really no need. We did what anyone would do.” Jason pats the big dog’s head. “Didn’t we Rocko?”

“And bringing gifts gave me a valid excuse to come back here and be nosy.”

“You are welcome. Any time.” Jason smiles and looks into my eyes. I want to touch his hand which is a finger distance away from mine. “You don’t need an excuse to come and be nosy.” My fingers reach out. “Just… Any time.” Jason gently takes my outstretched hand and holds it in his.

“Thanks.”

Jason doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk to the garage, a short stroll from the main house. The red brick structure makes up a square around a courtyard of workshops, stables, and other utility buildings. Jason unlocks the old wooden concertina door and pushes a portion back, which screeches with the effort of shifting. Inside, the air is still and musty. There’s a lingering odor of oil, kerosine, leather, and beeswax polish. Various cans and pots are arranged on shelving around the walls and in the middle of the space a beige tarpaulin covers a large vehicle.

“Now. This, I might keep,” says Jason with a grin as he pulls the cover from the glossy black and silver-gray panelsof an enormous vintage car. “It’s a 1953 Rolls-Royce Silver Dawn convertible.”

“Oh my!” I gasp. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Yes, she is. And the motor still fires. It’s amazing that all she needs is a tune-up. And her seats need a little upholstery work, but…”

I slowly walk around the classic car, which is double the length of Bertie, at least. Enormous headlights, the size of dinner plates, remind me of a frog. And at the front is an elegant sculpted shiny figurine of a woman with arms stretching out behind her in billowing fabric.

“She looks like a fairy,” I say pointing at the little statuette.

“Ah, yes. The Spirit of Ecstasy. She’s beautiful…” Jason pauses and looks into my eyes. “Like… the car.”

I run my hands along the contours of the opulent vehicle, picturing me in the passenger seat beside Jason as we cruise along with the top down in dappled summer sunlight. I quickly shake the image away embarrassed by the clarity of my imagination.

“These machines were top of the range. Real statement pieces.” Jason laughs. “I can imagine the guys at the exclusive golf club with their big old expensive cars parked out front. Maybe the chauffeurs polishing the headlights whilethey wait for their bosses to finish their game and maybe seal a business deal.”

“LikeThe Great Gatsby.” I complete the circuit of the Rolls-Royce and stand close to Jason. “You’ll need a garage for her. Why not keep the garage as well as the car?”

“That would be fine, but I believe, from the real estate people, that everything here is going to be bulldozed for a new development.”

“No!” The word comes out stronger and louder than necessary and ricochets around the garage space launching startled flapping pigeons from the roof. “Sorry. I mean, that’s a shame.”

“That’s what happens, Charlie. You can’t be sentimental about the past. Time moves on and new takes over from old. That’s how the world is.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Jason.” I’m disappointed as if I have a claim on what I see. This place isn’t mine. Jason isn’t anything more to me than a kind man in the right place at the right time. My imagination is running away with itself. I need to rein it in and get real. “I’m sure you’ll get a good price for it.”

The grand tour is over. I turn and push the doors open then walk out of the garage, gasping like a fish out of water. I’m sad and angry that the outcome for this grand old hotel is demolition. It doesn’t seem right. Jason callsout somewhere behind me as I stride back to the main house, tears prickling my eyes. I find Maddie still playing princesses in the living room.

“I’m going now, Maddie,” I say as the little girl reaches up to hug me.

“Why? You should stay and have tea with the Duke and Duchess. They’ve just arrived from Scotland and they’re dying to meet you.”

“Thanks, Maddie, but another time. I’ve got to go now.”

Jason catches up with me in the hallway, but I can’t look at him.

“Charlie, what’s up?” he says, reaching for my arm but I pull away, shaking my head with sad disbelief.

I choke back a sob and almost run down the curved path to the gate where Bertie is parked. I jump in and drive away without looking back.

Chapter 17

Jason

“Fairy Charlie didn’t stay to meet the Duke and Duchess from Scotland,” Maddie says with sincere disappointment. “I laid out a place for her and everything.”

---