Page 96 of Kiss Me at Christmas
“Yeah, but I’ve had loads of help painting them,” Leo objected.
“To be fair, babe, it’s practically been painting by numbers,” said Carly. “I love you and everything, but you are a classic micromanager.”
“You are very particular with your vision,” said Ava delicately.
“Like Steve Jobs with a paintbrush,” added Hiroshi, and everybody sniggered.
“This is exactly the kind of project that art colleges would be wetting their pants over,” said Harriet, getting the conversation back on track. “So, anyone who can, get pictures of the artist at work, and we’ll start putting together a portfolio.” If this didn’t instill the boy with some confidence in his talent, nothing would.
People began to drift back to what they’d been doing before.
James had to leave for a meeting with some of Evaline’s financial advisors, but he drew Harriet into one of the dark corners of the theater first to steal a kiss. He smelled like bergamot shower gel, sandalwood, and freshly ironed cotton, and she breathed him in as their lips pressed together, one kiss leading to another, then another. His low moan sent a spike of pleasure down her stomach, making her breath hitch and her grip on his back tighten.
“Kissing you is my new favorite pastime.” He smiled against her mouth, his voice raspy with desire.
“It’s good to have hobbies,” she answered breathlessly.
“It could become an obsession.”
“We can but hope.”
“I have to go.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’ll come back later to walk you home.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I know.”
After one last kiss goodbye, James left for his meeting. She hid in the corner for a few minutes longer, fanning her face and rearranging her pinafore, which had become rucked up during some very unprofessional bottom grabbing. Kissing James always left her breathless and wanting more. Every kiss felt like a small promise. She didn’t need extravagant declarations of forever. She was a practical, independent woman of a certain age, and what she wanted was this, one small daily promise which said,Today I am yours, today we promise to be each other’s. Maybe they would make that one small promise to each other every day for the rest of their lives, or maybe they wouldn’t. For now, she couldn’t think of anything better than committing wholeheartedly to one day at a time.
Twenty-five
Two more waif and straycommunity groups had arrived and been quickly assimilated into the theater. They were followed by a single-parents coffee group who, once they’d finished their meeting, were eager to help with painting the last of the backcloths. The buzz in the theater was so intoxicating that almost everyone who’d arrived ended up offering their services in some way to the production.
Harriet and Gideon stayed at the theater late that night drawing up volunteer sheets with jobs that needed doing. By late Friday afternoon, most of the sheets had the names of willing participants scribbled beside their chosen tasks.A Christmas Carolnow had a full quota of stagehands and lighting and sound engineers.
“Harriet!”
She heard her name whisper-hissed and turned in her seat, from where she had been half watching the rehearsals onstage, as she tried to file reports ready for Monday morning’s department meeting. Mallory was beckoning her furiously from the middle aisle. Harriet shimmied along the row toward her.
“Hey, Mallory, have you seen the sign-up sheets? They’re almost full.”
“Never mind that. Evaline is in the foyer!” Mallory exclaimed.
“What? She wasn’t due to visit today.”
“Well, she’s here and she looks pissed. And she’s asking for you.”
“Oh, cripes! Okay, let’s go see what she wants.” Harriet gestured toward the lift.
“Oh no, not me. You’re on your own!” Mallory swiveled, cackling wickedly, and zipped off down the aisle toward the orchestra pit, where the final touches were being made to the window from which Scrooge would call out to a street urchin near the end of the play.
Harriet found Evaline in the middle of the foyer, sitting like a queen in a wheelchair with red velvet cushions, her expression radiatingI am not amused. Austin, in his chauffeur’s cap and suit, stood behind her chair like a bodyguard, poised to push when the order was given.
Harriet was surprised to see her in a wheelchair, but she made no mention of it.
