Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
EVIE
‘And now this isn’t awkward at all,’ I said, walking through to the lounge area, where Noah sat in a robe, tied loosely so that I could still see all that golden skin.
‘Not really,’ said Noah, who uncharacteristically seemed completely at ease with the situation.
He leaned back against the sofa, one arm stretched along the back.
It was me that usually jumped into situations without thinking things through or worrying about the consequences, but now all my alarm bells were beginning to ring.
‘I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while. Well, since the first day I saw you.’
That stopped me, my heart fluttered at his words which made the alarm bells even shriller, although I just had to ask, ‘Have you? I thought I irritated the hell out of you.’ What was wrong with me?
Being all needy for his approval, when I should be slamming the brakes on here and running for safety.
‘You do that as well,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’m never quite sure what you’re going to say next.’
‘Oh,’ I said. That wasn’t so bad, although not exactly a compliment.
‘Like now.’ He grinned at me triumphantly. ‘It’s really cute seeing you lost for words for a change. Flustered.’
‘I’m not flustered,’ I protested.
Oh yes, I was. Very. Because he was making me feel things I’d avoided for a long time.
He stood up and handed me one of The Plaza branded, soft velvet robes, wrapping it around me and doing up the belt. It would have been so easy to tilt my head and kiss him, instead I looked down at my feet.
‘I guess we’d better be sensible given Alicia or Angel could turn up at any moment,’ said Noah but there was a question in his voice, which made me want to forget my fears and give into the desire to kiss him again.
‘I guess,’ I said with a little pout, which was ridiculous because I needed to be sensible. Noah’s gentle care was stirring emotions that had no place in my life.
‘And don’t pout.’ He touched my lips. ‘It’s too cute. I might forget myself. I’d rather take my time and not worry about an audience.’
‘Oh,’ I said. That was bad. I felt another flutter in my chest.
He grinned. ‘It really is cute when you’re lost for words.’
‘Don’t get used to it,’ I muttered almost wanting to cry because I had to stop this, but his words flickered warmth into places that had been cold for so long.
I’d managed to live life on my terms for the last five years, secure and confident that I was mistress of my own feelings.
Life was simpler and easier without emotion messing things up.
‘You do realise we’re both going to have to go commando to get back to our rooms.’
Noah frowned at the sudden step change. I gave him a cheeky grin, determined to alter the mood, and helped myself to a glass of champagne, walking around the coffee table to one of the sofas opposite, where I sat, making sure the robe covered my legs.
I was relieved when Noah took my lead and sat opposite.
I could see that while he was a little puzzled about my withdrawal, he was also respectful, and that made my heart give a little pang of regret. He was definitely one of the good guys.
Trying to appear nonchalant, I relaxed back into the sofa and took a sip of champagne, looking at the Christmas tree in the corner, inhaling the subtle pine fragrance perfuming the room and ignoring the low, persistent clamour of my body muttering, ‘Why have you stopped?’
‘This is quite nice,’ I said, sounding horribly like I was making small talk at a party. ‘Christmassy. Do you have a tree in your apartment?’
Noah shot me a quick frown but to my relief he followed my lead.
‘Usually. I didn’t get round to it this year.’ He sighed. ‘First time I haven’t. It’s always been a big deal in our family. Me and my dad would go out and cut one down.’
‘Cut one down. Get out of here,’ I said with faux brightness, but I was genuinely amused. ‘What with an axe and everything?’
‘With an axe and everything.’ He smiled and suddenly it wasn’t awkward anymore. ‘And then we’d drag it home on a sled—’
‘Hallmark Christmas alert,’ I interrupted.
‘Or a golf trolley, if it hadn’t snowed yet.’
‘I like it.’
‘And we’d take it home for my mom and my sister to inspect. Dad’s job then, would be to put the lights on, and then me and my sis would bicker about which ornaments to put on.’
‘I’ve never had a real tree,’ I said wistfully, thinking of the battered white tinsel tree that had had its final outing in Mum’s bedroom when she was no longer able to get downstairs. ‘We always said we would, one day when Mum was better.’ I gave in to the grief. ‘Except she never did get better.’
‘I’m sorry, Evie. Sounds like Christmas was difficult.’
‘No,’ I said, determined not to be a Debbie Downer. ‘We loved Christmas. That’s why we watched all the films. It was something we could do together. Maybe one day I will get a real tree. This one smells just like Christmas.’
‘There’s nothing quite like it,’ Noah said with a sigh as we both stared at the beautiful tree shimmering opposite in a halo of gold.
‘Although ours never looked as well coordinated as this one. We have a motley collection of ornaments, none of which match. We still have things me and my sister made at kindergarten.’
I smiled thinking of the tatty tree and the homely decorations which had made a reappearance every year without fail while Mum was alive.
‘My mum refused to throw anything I’d made away.
No matter how crappy. She kept the paper one I made with a handprint for Rudolf’s antlers, which was Sellotaped together, and the string of snow – white wool threaded with cotton-wool balls, all of fifteen centimetres long.
It looked ridiculous but it had to go on the tree every year.
’ I swallowed. ‘When she died, I got rid of them all.’
‘Why?’ asked Noah, his voice gentle.
‘Because it didn’t feel right celebrating Christmas without her.’
We lapsed into silence, lost in our memories. I sipped at my champagne and listened to the traffic outside several floors below. It felt as if we were in our own private cocoon up here, shielded from all the difficult parts of life.
‘How old were you when she died?’ asked Noah after a little while.
‘Twenty-four,’ I said. ‘But she was ill for a long time.’
‘That’s tough.’
‘Yes, but also we knew she was dying, so we got to spend a lot of time together. We said everything we needed to.’ As usual I tried to put a positive spin on it.
Those years looking after Mum were tough, even though she did everything she could to make sure I didn’t end up caring for her, it was impossible in the end when the money ran out.
‘What about your Dad?’
‘Oh, he died when I was young.’
‘So, you dealt with your mum’s illness, on your own.’
I shrugged my shoulders, really not wanting to have this conversation. It brought back too many memories. Too much terror. Too many sleepless nights. Too much angst about how I was going to keep the lights and the heating on.
‘Thank goodness for the NHS. And also, Mum had some savings.’ I gave a brittle laugh.
‘They weren’t much, and they were badly invested.
So badly invested.’ I shook my head. ‘That’s when I taught myself about the stock market and investments so that I could make her savings go further.
’ I paused, remembering how hard it had been to juggle everything but the interest that Mum had taken. She loved helping me.
‘And this is a depressing conversation to be having when we’re sipping champagne in The Royal Suite of The Plaza. Come on, I’m never going to get to do anything this fancy again. I’m going to make the most of it. I’m hungry. Alicia said to help ourselves. There must be a minibar and snacks.’
Noah picked up the bottle of champagne and topped up my glass.
He tilted his head and studied me.
‘What?’ I asked a touch irritably. I didn’t like the way it felt as if he could really see me.
He frowned but didn’t say anything.
‘So, what do you think your nephews would like for Christmas?’ I asked, desperate for a change of subject.
I didn’t want Noah looking too hard at me.
He might just see beneath my carefully erected shell that beneath the hot-mess confidence and sass, I was an even bigger hot mess who had pretty much given up any long-term planning for my future.
I gave him a little smile, to emphasise that we were back in the ‘fun Evie’ zone.
‘And, more importantly, I’m officially starving, you can take me down to dinner.’