Chapter Thirteen #2
The scent of pine needles assaulted his senses even before he put his key in his front door.
The sharp resin smell instantly revived memories of that Christmas Eve when he’d been eleven years old and the happy part of his childhood had come to its terrible end.
Christmas trees were the thing he most hated about Christmas.
The smell made him nauseous, started a headache throbbing in his temples. Andie must be using pine in some of the decorations. It would have to go. He couldn’t have it in the house.
He pushed the door silently open—only to recoil at what he saw.
There was a Christmas tree in his house. A whopping great Christmas tree, taking up half his entrance hallway and rising high above the banisters of the staircase.
What the hell? He had told Andie in no uncertain terms there was to be no Christmas tree—anywhere. He gritted his teeth and fisted his hands by his sides. How could she be so insensitive?
There was a team of people working on the tree and its myriad glitzy ornaments. Including Andie. He’d never thought she could be complicit in this defiance of his wishes. He felt let down. Betrayed.
She turned. Froze. Her eyes widened with shock and alarm when she saw him. A glass ornament slid from her hands and smashed on the floor but she scarcely seemed to notice.
‘What part of “no Christmas tree” did you not get, Andie?’
She got up from her kneeling position and took a step towards him, put up her hands as if to ward off his anger. The people she was with scuttled out of the room, leaving them alone. But he bet they were eavesdropping somewhere nearby. The thought made him even more livid.
‘Dominic, I’m sorry. I know you said no tree.’
‘You’re damn right I did.’
‘It was a mistake. The tree was never meant to be here. There were some...some crossed lines. I wasn’t expecting it either. But then I saw it and it’s so beautiful and looks so right here. I thought you might...appreciate it, might see how right it is and want to keep it.’
He could feel the veins standing out on his neck, his hands clenched so tight they hurt. ‘I don’t see it as beautiful.’
Her face flushed. She would read that as an insult to her skills. He was beyond caring. ‘Why? Why do you hate Christmas trees?’ she said. ‘Why this...this irrational dislike of Christmas?’
Irrational? He gritted his teeth. ‘That’s none of your concern.’
‘But I want it to be. I thought I could help you. I—’
‘You thought wrong.’
Now her hands were clenched and she was glaring at him.
‘Why won’t you share it with me—what makes you hurt so much at this time of year?
Why do I have to guess? Why do I have to tiptoe around you?
’ Her voice rose with each question as it seemed her every frustration and doubt rushed to the surface.
Dominic was furious. How dared she put him through this...this humiliation?
‘Don’t forget your place,’ he said coldly. ‘I employ you.’ With each word he made a stabbing motion with his finger to emphasise the words. ‘Get rid of the tree. Now.’
He hated the stricken look on Andie’s face, knowing he had put it there. But if she cared about him at all she never would have allowed that tree to enter his house. He could barely stand to look at her.
For a long moment she didn’t say anything. ‘Yes,’ she said finally, her voice a dull echo of its usual husky charm. ‘Yes, sir,’ she added.
In a way he appreciated the defiance of the hissed ‘sir’.
But he was tired and jet-lagged and grumpy and burning with all the pain and loss he associated with Christmas—and Christmas trees in particular.
Above all, he was disappointed in her that she thought so little of his wishes that she would defy him.
His house was festooned with festive paraphernalia. Everywhere he looked, it glittered and shone, mocking him. He’d been talked into this damn party against his wishes. He hated Christmas. He uttered a long string of curses worthy of Scrooge.
‘I’m going upstairs. Make sure this tree is gone when I come back down. And all your people as well.’ He glared in the general direction of the door through which her team had fled.
She met his glare, chin tilted upwards. ‘It will take some time to dismantle the tree,’ she said.
‘But I assure you I will get rid of every last stray needle so you will never know it was there.’ She sounded as though she spoke through gritted teeth.
‘However, I will need all my crew to help me. We have to be here for at least a few more hours. We still have to finish filling the goody bags and setting the tables.’ She glared at him.
‘This is your party. And you know as well as I do that it must go on. To prove you’re not the Scrooge people think you are. ’
Some part of him wanted to cross the expanse of floor between them and hug her close.
To tell her that of course he understood.
That he found it almost impossible to talk about the damage of his childhood.
To knuckle down and help her adorn his house for the party tomorrow.
But the habits of Christmases past were hard to break.
So was the habit of closing himself off from love. Letting himself love Andie would only end in disappointment and pain, like it had with every other relationship. For her as well as himself. It seemed he was incapable of love.
‘Text me when you’re done,’ he said.
He stomped up the stairs to his study. And the bottle of bourbon that waited there.
Andie felt humiliated, angry and upset. How dared Dominic speak to her like that? ‘Don’t forget your place.’ His harsh words had stabbed into her heart.
Jeremy poked his head around the door that connected through to the living room. She beckoned him to come in. She forced her voice to sound businesslike, refused to let even a hint of a tear burr her tone. ‘I told you he wouldn’t be happy with the tree.’ Her effort at a joke fell very flat.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Jeremy said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘We’ll get rid of this tree quick-smart. No matter your man is in a mood. The show has to go on. You’ve got two hundred people here for lunch tomorrow.’
‘Thanks, Jeremy,’ she said. ‘Dominic has just got off a long flight. He’s not himself.’ But her excuses for him sounded lame even to her own ears.
Was that angry man glaring at her with his fists clenched at his sides the true Dominic?
She’d known the anger was there bubbling below the surface, was beginning to understand the reasons for it.
But she’d thought that anger that had driven him to violence was in his past. How could she possibly have thought she’d fallen in love with him? She didn’t even know the man.
‘What do you suggest we do with the tree?’ Jeremy asked. ‘There are no returns on cut trees.’
Andie’s thoughts raced. ‘We’ve got a Christmas Eve party happening elsewhere tonight.
The clients have put up a scrappy old artificial tree that looks dreadful.
We’ll get this delivered to them with the compliments of Party Queens.
Keep whatever ornaments you can use here; the rest we’ll send with the tree. Let’s call a courier truck now.’
Seething, she set to work dismantling the beautiful tree.
As she did so, she felt as if she were dismantling all her hopes and dreams for love with Dominic.
The diamond ring felt like a heavy burden on her finger, weighted by its duplicity and hypocrisy.
While he’d stood there insulting her, she’d felt like taking the ring off and hurling it at him.
If it had hit him and drawn blood she would have been glad.
His words had been so harsh they felt like they’d drawn blood from her heart.
But of course she couldn’t have thrown her ring at him while there were other people in the house. She would be professional right to the end. After all, wasn’t she known for her skill at dealing with difficult people?
In spite of that, she’d had her fill of this particular difficult man.
He’d got what he wanted from her in terms of his American deal.
She’d got what her family needed for Timothy.
Both sides of the bargain fulfilled. He’d been her employer, her fake fiancé—she’d liked to think they’d become friends of a sort.
She’d wanted more—but that was obviously not to be.
She’d stick it out for the Christmas lunch.
Then she’d be out of here and out of his life.
The crew worked efficiently and well. When they were done and the tree was gone she waved them goodbye and wished them a Merry Christmas.
But not before asking them to please not repeat what they might have heard today.
Talk of Dominic’s outburst could do serious damage to the rehabilitation of his Scrooge image.
By the time they had all gone it was early evening. She stood and massaged the small of her back where it ached. She would let Dominic know she was done and going home. But she had no intention of texting him as he’d asked. Not asked. Demanded. She had things to say that had to be said in person.