His Christmas List

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Holly

I pick it up, the name Clancy lights up the screen. "Hi."

"Oh my God," she splutters.

I frown at the sound of her voice. "What's wrong?"

"I've been up vomiting all night."

"Oh no, you poor thing. Are you okay?" I wince.

"No, I'm literally on my deathbed."

"You should probably go to the hospital then, less messy to clean up your dead body." I smile, relieved that it's only that.

"This isn’t funny."

I rub my eyes. "Sorry. So, I take it you're not coming in today?" Clancy is my PA, the best damn one I ever had.

"I can't, I'm so sorry."

"That’s okay," I sigh.

"It's not. You'll have to cancel Alaska."

I screw up my face in horror as I remember today’s itinerary. "Shit, I can't."

"Well, you can't go alone."

I close my eyes. "I'll get Joel to come."

"Joel starts his time off today, remember?"

"Fuck."

"What about Melissa?" she asks.

"Are you kidding me?" I sigh. Melissa is Clancy's assistant, and she drives me crazy. She flirts with every man she comes into contact with, to the point that it's embarrassing.

"It's three nights, surely you can handle her for three nights?"

"No, actually. I can't."

"I'll tell her to behave."

"I'll just go alone."

"This is a major meeting, Holly. You can't."

"Clancy, I love you, but you are aware that I can do my job without you, right?"

"I know that," she scoffs.

"Stop underestimating me and go back to bed," I smirk.

I've worked my ass off to get where I am.

Years and years of blood sweat and tears has led me to be the head of acquisitions for Ferrara Media, New York.

I'm Gabriel Ferrara’s right-hand woman. I know my job and I do it well, and tomorrow, I have a meeting in Anchorage, Alaska, to close a multi-million dollar deal on the sale of the local television station.

"Can you email me the flight details, please," I ask.

"Okay so, you're flying commercial because Gabriel leaves in the company plane for Italy today to visit his family."

I roll my eyes; this is just getting better by the second. "Yes, I remember," I reply. "Email me the details of hotels, etc."

"Are you sure you can go alone?"

"I'm not a baby," I snap, exasperated. Clancy has become a tad overprotective.

"I'm pretty sure after the last eighteen months I can handle two days in Alaska on my own."

"No doubt," she says. "The car will meet you at the other end and I'll detail everything in the email. Call me whenever you need me."

"Okay." Clancy's been my rock and has become one of my closest friends. Eighteen months ago, my husband of ten years was imprisoned for insider trading, and if that wasn’t devastating enough, having his private life dragged through the courts was the ultimate betrayal.

He played me like a fiddle, the real Wolf of Wall Street.

He was the rock star stockbroker, the Harvard lawyer who came from one of the most respected families in New York. Handsome, wealthy and powerful.

And I was the fool, so blinded by love that I had absolutely no idea of who I was really married to.

The press covered the stories of his embezzlements, blackmail, cocaine, high-end prostitutes and oh, there's the small matter of a love child he had with another woman two years ago, that he wanted to know nothing about.

It was revealed in the courts that he paid the mother out to never reveal his identity to the boy. What kind of man deserts his own child?

While I was working my ass off to get us ahead, he was ripping people off and fucking around.

Asshole.

"I'm sorry, that flight is closed."

"What?" I frown as I glance at my watch. "What do you mean? I still have plenty of time."

"It's out of my hands." The airport attendant shrugs. "It closed ten minutes ago."

I close my eyes in horror. Fuck. "I have to be in Anchorage tomorrow," I say.

"Nothing I can do," she says casually.

I run my hands through my hair as I begin to feel my temperature rise. "Okay, can I get onto another flight please?"

The attendant types into the computer and reads the screen. "Unfortunately, there isn’t another vacant seat until Friday."

"How is that possible?" My eyes widen in horror. "What do you mean? That’s three days away."

"You're flying to Anchorage in Alaska."

"And?"

"And a limited amount of flights go there."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Oh… this is just great." On my way to the airport this morning I found out that there has been a counter offer by Miles Media and I need to get there urgently to close the deal before Tristan Miles swoops in and steals it from under me.

"Sorry."

Fuck’s sake. "Umm, okay." I try to think of a solution. "What other airlines fly to Anchorage?"

"Only two others, American and United. And they have both tried to get seats on our flight on Friday as they oversold their seats."

"So, they're full, too?"

"I'm afraid so."

I stare at her flatly. "Out of JFK in New York…. the biggest airport in America, only three airlines go there?" I scoff.

"Anchorage seems like a very popular destination."

"Apparently so."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "This is a disaster."

I text Clancy.

Can you get me a charter, please?

I missed the flight.

No flights available until Friday.

She types into her computer and reads the screen. "I could get you onto a flight to Fairbanks, Alaska, in an hour. But there is only one seat left and if you don’t get it now, it may sell out, too."

I glance at my phone waiting for Clancy's reply. She hasn’t read my message, which means she isn’t on her phone, which means she's probably throwing up right now.

Shit, the poor girl is probably throwing up right now. She can't organize a fucking emergency charter plane, she's too unwell.

The woman on the desk continues to type while reading out the information. "From there you could hire a car and drive the rest of the way. I mean it's not ideal, but it would get you there for tomorrow."

"How long is the drive from Fairbanks to Anchorage?" I ask.

She googles it. "It says here it’s seven hours."

"What time does the flight get into Fairbanks?"

"Six o'clock this evening. You could rent a car and use Google maps and still make it by near midnight."

I stare at her as I go over my options.

"You could call ahead and rent yourself a car," she says to try and be helpful. "It might actually be fun?"

"I guess." I force a smile. Or I can just arrange for a car to pick me up. "Okay, I'll take that flight. Thank you." It will be easy from there, a lot easier than it is from here. At least I'll be in the right state.

She types into her computer and then hands me the ticket. "You need to hurry; the flight is just about to board."

I read the bold writing.

JFK – Fairbanks, Alaska

"Good luck." She smiles.

"Thanks." I give her a weak wave and make my way through security as I email Melissa. I'll leave Clancy alone to be sick in peace.

I need a transfer from Fairbanks Airport, Alaska.

Arrival 6 pm local time.

To be driven to Anchorage, Alaska.

I missed my flight.

Boarding now, will check in on arrival.

Ten long hours later, I stand at Fairbanks Airport and look around.

Everyone is just wandering around as if on vacation, nobody seems in a rush and to top it all off, the transfer isn’t here.

"I hate incompetence," I whisper under my breath.

"This is the worst fucking day of all time.

" I take my phone out and call Melissa. It rings out.

My blood boils and I call her again, it rings out again and I leave a message on her voicemail.

"Hello Melissa, this is Holly McMillan, my transfer isn’t at the airport.

Where did you ask them to pick me up from?

Am I supposed to be waiting in the arrival lounge or out front?

" I look around in hope of seeing someone with a small sign.

"Call me back immediately," I say sharply.

"I'm in the middle of nowhere here." I hang up in disgust and dial Clancy's number. She answers on the first ring.

"Hi, Hol."

"Hey, sorry to bother you."

"That’s okay."

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes, a little. Where are you?"

"In the middle of Bumfuck nowhere, do you know who Melissa booked my transfer through? They haven’t turned up."

"What do you mean Melissa?"

"I missed my flight and had to fly into Fairbanks, I emailed and asked her to book a transfer from here to Anchorage tonight."

"Oh fuck," she mutters. "You should have called me."

"Why?"

"Melissa didn’t go into work today, she called in sick, too. She wouldn’t have seen your email yet."

My eyes widen in horror as I look around at my surroundings.

People are taking a second look as they walk past me, as if I stand out to be different.

I suddenly become aware of people staring at me and I glance down at myself.

I'm in a black tight pencil skirt and matching suit jacket, a silk blouse, sheer stockings and high heels.

My long-length dark hair is twisted into a bun.

I have a small overnight black Louis Vuitton suitcase and my matching Louis Vuitton laptop bag.

Shit, a tad overdressed. I feel like I come from another planet, looking around at my surroundings…maybe I do.

"I'll find you one now," she says in a panic. "Grab a drink at the bar and I'll call you right back."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I don’t need this shit tonight. After the ten-hour flight, I'm beat. "Okay." I reply as I try to stay calm. "Speak soon." I hang up.

Oh…. my fuck.

I wheel my suitcase through the airport and over to the bar and take a seat, the waiter smiles as he wipes down the bar. "Hello."

"Hi."

"What can I get you?"

"A Manhattan, please." I smile.

"A what?"

I frown at his reply. "Um… a Manhattan?"

"Nope, don’t know what that is."

"Oh." I pause as I think of another drink. "A cosmopolitan, please."

He screws up his face.

"As in cocktail?" I wince. "Maybe a Classic Old Fashioned?"

"Nope."

Oh hell, where the fuck am I?