Page 93 of Under the Mistletoe
“Donovan, I’m fine,” she says, and I know she is. At least physically. Once she was asked some questions, I brought her straight back to the penthouse. I had my private doctor look her over. Apart from some scratches and bruises, she is physically okay. But the memory will take a while to let go of.
I ran her a bath, her aunt, uncle, and Shelley all resting down the hall. My penthouse has never had this many people in it. I sit on the bed next to her and hold her hand.
“I can’t believe Jimmy isn’t Jimmy…” She shakes her head. She’s still in shock. We all are.
“Agent Jai mentioned he had a bad upbringing. Fell into crime at a young age and made a career out of it.” Jimmy Stallone is really Justin Owens. Wanted in three counties for fraud, sexual assault, and armed robbery. A lawyer in the city he is not.
“I rode the subway with him almost every day when I started at York Enterprises.” Again, she shakes her head in disbelief.
“Yeah, that was his plan. He knew. Must have heard you were a new employee, wanted to get some insights. He’s known Marcus for a while. No doubt Marcus put him up to a lot of things.” My teeth grind. I always thought Marcus was dirty. I just never knew exactly how dirty until all this unraveled.
“If I hadn't left… if I just got back sooner…” I’ve been replaying it in my head all night. Over and over.
“Stop it. None of this is your fault. It’s no one's fault.”
“But I—”
Her glassy eyes bore into mine. “Donovan! I love you. I just need you to love me too.”
“I love you. I love you more than I ever thought I was capable of loving anyone…” I cup her jaw, and she leans her head into my hand.
“Then that’s all we need… love…” she says, making life sound so simple. I lean forward, put my lips to hers, and we seal our love with a kiss.
40
Jessica
The fire roars, giving warmth and a golden glow to the room, and I feel so snug and cozy. I never want to leave.
“Seriously, Jay Jay, these Christmas cookies are amazing.” My aunt grins as she sits opposite me, drinking a warm cup of cocoa and eating the cookies I made for everyone.
“Hmmm, delicious,” Uncle Bob agrees with her, and I smile.
“Thank you. I love to cook and bake; it’s my new hobby.”
“One I am very supportive of…” Donovan says, throwing a cookie in his mouth, and I laugh.
We’re in Lake Placid. Uncle Bobby closed the shop, Donovan whisked us all away, and while Jimmy and Marcus are in a cold cell somewhere, I'm here. In the safety and comfort of my family.
"Heard from your parents?" Uncle Bobby asks.
"No. I texted them my festive greetings and left it at that." I sigh. I have too many other things going on at the moment to worry about where they are or what they’re doing.
“Donovan, I’ve said it all day, but it is absolutely beautiful here,” Aunt Vivian gushes. The house was stocked with food and a big, beautiful Christmas tree installed before our arrival. Once we arrived, Donovan took my uncle straight out for some fishing while Aunt Vivian and I made some food to be ready for Christmas lunch tomorrow. But I was surprised to see a plastic mistletoe already hanging from the kitchen, just like the ones at home.
“I know presents should probably wait until tomorrow, but since we’re all here…” Donovan stands and looks at me before he hands over an envelope.
“What’s this?” I frown, grabbing it before I sit up. Donovan hasn’t left my side for days. After being interviewed by the police multiple times and briefing his lawyers, he promptly flew us all here to Lake Placid so we can spend Christmas and have some time away from the city. The media are even more intrusive given the new headlines and the company busier than ever even though it is the holidays.
“Open it,” he encourages me, and I rip open the envelope, pulling out the paper.
“Thrift on Third? Museum? What?” I look up at him in confusion.
“I’ve been speaking to Mabel. It’s quiet the vintage shop she has and a vast collection of vintage fashion she owns. So we went into business together. Thrift on Third is being turned into a Vintage Fashion Museum by York Enterprises and Bentley’s company. Mabel will be the curator, Bentley and I the money, and it’ll feature her extensive collection of fashion history. All proceeds from the entry tickets will go to kids’ fashion scholarships, with both York Enterprises and Bentley’s Group opening up annual internships and graduate programs specifically for those kids in Mabel’s name.”
“What?” I’m in shock.
“Well, I want to ensure that kids in foster care, kinship care, or those who don’t have the family support that many kids in the country do, have an opportunity to build a career in fashion if that’s something they wish to do.”
