Page 48 of Confessions of a Christmasholic

Gus groaned and Sutton laughed when she saw Rosie in the doorway to the kitchen, looking super-cute in her sunshine yellow coat and fluorescent pink feather boa. She picked up her coffee cup and hid her face behind it, trying not to smile. Gus sent her a ‘please, please help me’ look.

‘You’re on your own, dude,’ she told him, laughing.

Gus put his hands on his hips and looked up at the ceiling. ‘God, give me strength,’ he muttered.

‘That’s what you said last night,’ Sutton told him, enjoying herself.

Rosie stamped her foot, looking increasingly annoyed. She hated being out of the loop and sensed there was a subtext she wasn’t privy to. ‘Daddy, I asked—’

‘I heard you, Rosie,’ Gus snapped, and turned to Sutton, pointing a finger at her. ‘You, enough!’

He walked Rosie into the hall, and his frustrated voice drifted back to her. ‘Rosie, get your boots on and stop listening to adult conversations. Felix, put Pepper down, right now. Pig, move your lazy arse, you stupid dog. Dammit, this place is a goddamn circus. And Rosie, I swear if you mention the swear jar, I will send Santa a text message and tell him to put you on his naughty list.’

‘You will not, Daddy! You willnot!’

Sutton sipped her coffee and was enormously grateful she had six-plus hours to pull herself together before she had to deal with Rosie-in-a-strop again.

She was still congratulating herself when the little girl barrelled into the kitchen, flung her arms around Sutton’s knees and squeezed. Her coffee cup rocked in her hand and the hot liquid rolled over her hand. She looked down into Rosie’s wet eyes and her heart sighed. Sutton dropped to her haunches, managing not to spill any more coffee, and wrapped her free arm around Rosie’s little body. The little girl pushed her face into her neck.

‘Daddy’s being mean to me,’ Rosie said, her words interspersed with hiccups.

‘Daddy’s had a hard morning,’ she told her, then realised how apt her words were. He’d been very hard as he slipped inside…Will you please stop, Alsop? You are comforting this man’s child, for the love of Mary, Joseph and little Jesus!‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t send a text to Santa.’

Rosie pulled back, her hands still on Sutton’s shoulders. She nodded solemnly. ‘Will you also check he got the email we wrote, the one Daddy sent on his ’puter?’

‘I will.’ Wondering what Rosie asked for, she stroked her hair off her too-lovely face. ‘What did you ask Santa to bring you, Rosie-Roo?’

‘A mummy,’ Rosie told her, sounding deathly serious. Sutton sighed. Aw, this too little girl, growing up without a mum. She needed someone to cuddle, to teach her how to plait her hair, how to deal with mean girls. She needed someone to introduce her to romcoms and musicals, to help her dress her Barbies in stylish outfits.

‘I want a mummy because there are too many boys in this house, and they irritate me. Also, girls are easier to boss around than boys,’ Rosie blithely informed her. ‘You can be my mummy if you want. But you have to do what I say.’

Right, okay then. It would be a strong woman who took on Rosie Langston. Sutton lacked the bravery Rosie’s stepmother would undoubtedly need. It was a very good thing she wasn’t thinking about Gus long term…

ChapterEleven

Kate’s Christmas Shop lost out on the best-themed shop award to a newly established store in London selling jewellery from recycled materials. Sutton was disappointed for Gus, but, judging by the photographs flashing on the screen behind the presenter, the winner looked sleek, modern and very, very cool.

Wearing a dress borrowed from Moira, a dark green cocktail dress by a famous designer whose name she couldn’t remember, Sutton nudged Gus’s shoulder with hers. ‘Sorry.’

Gus took a sip from his glass of beer, not looking remotely concerned. ‘All good. I would’ve liked those tickets to Spain. The hotel looked amazing.’

‘I can’t see you taking two weeks in Spain and leaving the twins behind,’ Sutton said. They stood at the back of the crowd, close to the wall and too far away from the bar. A pity, because her glass was empty. She was sure there was wine trapped in a bottle she needed to rescue.

‘I would’ve given the tickets to Moira. She deserves a break,’ Gus said, his breath on her shoulder, speaking quietly as the person on stage stuttered through their acceptance speech. ‘God, this is torture. Is it nearly over?’

Sutton glanced at the program in front of her. ‘Yep. We’re done.’

‘Thank fuck,’ Gus muttered. ‘After the speeches wrap up, I’ll find Owen, thank him and we can go back to the hotel.’

Sutton wrinkled her nose. While she did want to spend the rest of the night making love to Gus, she’d also heard the DJ earlier and he sounded good. She wouldn’t mind sticking around for a while. She loved to dance, and it had been ages.

Gus touched her nose with the tip of his long, blunt finger. ‘Your nose wrinkles when you want something.’

She frowned, and her hand came up to cover her nose. ‘It does?’

‘Mm. So, what’s up?’

She looked toward the dancefloor on the other side of the room. The DJ, wearing expensive headphones worked his desk, his body moving to a beat only he could hear. ‘Do you dance?’ she quietly asked Gus.

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