Page 43 of Mistletoe Bargain with the Billionaire

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A short while later, I’ve made my way to Whistler’s town square where I’m greeted by the kids. They’ve got other friends with them as well as several adults acting as chaperones. “You made it!” Tysha squeals, greeting me with a hug. “I told my mom we had a professional singer coming to join us.”

“I did make it! And, thanks again for inviting me.”

I glance around, even knowing it’s probably hopeless. We’d both said we’d come caroling with the Frosties but I know it wasn’t something Nick was looking forward to. And, since I’m sure he’s told his grandmother the truth by now, he probably didn’t see the point in coming to sing. He’s already done plenty to help the kids out and I know he’s making other plans for them. He doesn’t owe them this. Or me.

Finishing my hurried scan of the crowd, there’s no sign of him.Oh well,I think, trying not to feel disappointed.I’ll see him later. “I’m sorry Nick couldn’t come tonight,” I tell Tysha.

“What do you mean? He’s already here.”

Puzzled, I look through the growing crowd again. He’s not…wait!

Apart from the crowd, a solitary but familiar figure is standing in the town square’s gazebo, right under the mistletoe… and wearing a very ugly Christmas sweater.

He’s where newlyweds might stand and ring the bell. And in the very place we’d kissed upon our arrival in Whistler last week. It feels like a lifetime ago. What’s he doing up there?

“Oh my Christmas cookies,” I whisper as he starts ringing the bell.

24-Nick

Talking to Grams late last night had gone more smoothly than expected. I’d told her about the bargain and the unforeseen complication of falling in love with my partner in crime.

“You did this all because of what I said last Christmas?”

“Yeah, Grams. I didn’t want to let you down but I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“You haven’t let me down, Nicholas. Not ever.” I’d raised my eyebrows because, surely, she couldn’t be serious. Between the ages of six and sixteen while I lived under her roof, I know I fucked up plenty.“I didn’t say you never made mistakes,”Grams added as if she’d read my mind.“Just that you didn’t let me down. You won’t start now.”

“What does that mean?”

“Fix things with Carol. Even if she doesn’t want the same things you do, which I think she does, don’t let her slip back out of your life again without a fight. You’ll be miserable if you do.”

Just like her words from last year had stuck with me, these do as well. She’s right. I can’t let Carol go without trying, without admitting the truth… even if she doesn’t feel the same.

But our phone conversation from this morning didn’t give me much hope. Carol’s planning to stay here. It was only her surprise over the Della-Fontaine matter that prompted her to call. So, how do I do this? Tell her that I want her for real this time?

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation on Christmas Eve,” Anthony grumbles.

“It’s not technically evening yet. Definitely not in your timezone.”

More grumbling before he returns with, “Okay, fine. You want to win the lady back? What did you get her for Christmas for starters?”

“Christmas?” I gulp. “I, uh… shit.” Christmas is her favorite holiday and her supposed boyfriend didn’t buy her anything. What a dick. “Does a multi-million dollar lawsuit and the best legal counsel money can buy count?” I ask, wincing.

“Nothing says love like a lawsuit,” Anthony snorts. “Jesus, Nick. You’re hopeless, man.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m a fucking idiot,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut. “I’ve…” I glance at the time. “Damn, I’ve got to go!” I’ve got half an hour before all the stores in downtown Whistler are closed.

As I’m grabbing my jacket, I notice something tucked under the pillow on Carol’s side of the bed. Yes, it’s definitely Carol’s side of the bed in my mind. The sheets still hold her enchanting apple scent, too.

Last night, after I’d returned from Grams’ house and drank myself into a stupor in my misery, I hadn’t noticed whatever this is. Oh, my Christmas cookies, it’s a present! (Wow, she’s got me using her term.)

The wrapping paper has kittens in red bowties and peppermint sticks covering it, so very Carol. There’s a card:For Nicky.Christ, how my poor heart aches.

Is it Christmas Day yet? No, but she left this here for me. I open it. It’s a CD. Hmm. I’ve not used a CD player in ages. My laptop doesn’t have a port for one either.

There’s one in the rental, you fool!

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