Chapter 21 #2
Bryant Park was the most charming Christmas Market.
It was impossible not to be swept up by the festive atmosphere, especially now that it was snowing.
Stallholders handed over paper bags of goodies to happy shoppers, the food stalls shared little tasting bits and the smell of chocolate, gingerbread, coffee and cookies tantalised the senses.
My mouth watered as I stood in front a cookie stall – so many to choose from – iced, plain, chocolate-chip, double-chocolate-chip, cranberry and pistachio – and in all sorts of shapes, fir trees, snowmen and reindeer.
Then there were the gingerbread stalls with elaborately constructed houses, little cottages with jellybean flowers and chocolate-button roof shingles, along with grand mansions with candy-cane curlicued balconies and stained-glass windows made of boiled sweets.
Another stall displayed gingerbread postmen, builders, dancers and clowns, the features delicately iced in a variety of colours, with ribbons threaded through them to hang on the tree.
Noah picked up a pack of those and added it to his by now bulging bags.
Every time I turned around, he’d disappeared and then reappeared with another purchase.
‘What have you just bought?’ I asked giving into my curiosity.
‘Oh, just something for my cleaner. Have you seen these?’ He pointed to a stall brimming with pretty glass ornaments in myriad colours.
There were dragons, elves, teddy bears, all wearing traditional Santa hats, along with a selection of old-fashioned angel Christmas Tree toppers with blue eyes and golden hair fanning out around their shoulders.
‘Oh, the dragons are adorable,’ I said, completely falling in love with one of the little creatures in bright scarlet.
I couldn’t help touching the sinuous shape with a covetous hand, but I withdrew it quickly because I didn’t need it.
What would I do with it? My eyes lit upon a particularly pretty angel topper, her dress a delicate shade of mauve, her wings a gauzy metal. ‘She’s lovely, too,’ I said.
‘Yeah, I think my sister might like it. Why don’t you go on and I’ll catch you up.’
I sauntered past a couple of stalls and along to one that was selling cashmere hats and gloves in rich jewel-bright colours, a deep sapphire-blue, ruby-red and sunshine-yellow. I touched the soft wool and was almost tempted to buy one of the hats but then Noah came up behind me.
‘How are you doing? Ready for a cocktail?’ asked Noah.
‘I’m always ready for a cocktail,’ I said.
‘I know just the place.’ He led the way through the stalls to a quieter area, which was fenced off.
He spoke to the man at the gate, and we were ushered through to an area containing four little wooden Swiss chalets, complete with snow dusting the roofs and tiny reindeer around the doors.
Snowflakes still danced in the air, landing with gentle poufs on our clothes before melting away.
‘Oh, this is adorable,’ I exclaimed. It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
‘This is us,’ said Noah and gestured to the end cottage. He pushed open the door for me and I stepped inside to find a roaring fire in front of a two-seater sofa piled with blankets and cushions.
I smiled broadly, taking in the fairy lights that lined roof trusses, the picture of Santa and Mrs Claus on the wall, along with a row of nine stockings, each emblazoned with the name of one of his reindeer.
Along the mantelpiece were berry-laden holly boughs interspersed with fat white candles, their golden flames flickering and dancing.
Above the sofa, a huge branch of mistletoe was hanging so low that I could see the white berries glistening.
Immediately I thought of Noah’s lips on mine two days before, and a tiny shiver rippled down my spine.
I let out a little laugh, belying my sudden nerves. I so wanted Noah to kiss me again.
‘This is just the best. I love it.’ I did a little twirl in the centre of the room, trying to avoid sitting down just yet. The plump-cushioned sofa suddenly felt like the elephant in the room. I didn’t mention that I thought it was impossibly romantic.
To my surprise, Noah blushed with pleasure. ‘I heard about it from my buddy, Todd, who writes a restaurant column for a New York magazine. He says they do a mean cranberry mojito.’ He spoke quickly, as if to fill the gap between either of us knowing what to do.
He picked up the menu on the table and handed it to me. ‘What would you like?’
‘There’s quite a choice,’ I said, noticing the little handbell on the table with a sign next to it, reading, ‘Ring me to order’.
The list included a Christmas Cosmopolitan, Poinsettia, Elves Eggnog, Festive French 75 as well as a Holiday Harvey Wallbanger and a Merry Manhattan.
I chose the Poinsettia, a mix of triple sec, cranberry juice and prosecco, and Noah followed suit and then rang the bell to place our order. We were still standing, when a young woman in an elf costume, not dissimilar to the one I’d worn, bounded into the room.
‘Happy holidays and welcome to Blitzen Cottage. What can I get you? And can I put another log on the fire for you?’
She took our orders and then banked up the fire.
‘Come y’all, take a seat. Make yourselves comfortable. Take the weight off.’
The invitation was just what we needed and I shed my coat, brushing off the damp. Because it was so cosy, I removed my jumper and took a seat on the sofa, watching the fire as it popped and crackled in the grate.
Noah sat down next to me, and awareness fizzed in the air.
‘I bet if you cut down your own Christmas tree, you have an open fire,’ I blurted out.
Noah smiled. I wondered if he knew I’d got the jitters and was nervous of being alone with him. It was starting to get harder and harder to resist the pull to kiss him.
‘My parents do. It’s my dad’s thing.’
‘Do you roast marshmallows and whole hogs?’ I asked.
‘You really buy into the whole Hallmark thing, don’t you?’ he teased.
‘Hell yeah, it always looks so much more cosy than real life. Although I have to say you’ve surpassed yourself with this place.’
‘I aim to please.’
We lapsed into silence, both of us watching the flames dance and sway.
The cocktails, when they arrived, lived up to expectation and the sharp tang of cranberry was softened by prosecco, the gentle bubbles bursting on my tongue.
Along with the drinks was a selection of beautifully prepared canapés on holly-leaf-shaped platters, which our friendly elf placed on the coffee table in front of us.
My stomach rumbled in anticipation at the sight and smell of the tiny parcels filled with smoked salmon pate and topped with bright, ruby-red roe, pigs in blankets, sausages wrapped in pastry, which although not the same as at home, were delicious, rolls of roast beef on rye bread with hot, yellow mustard and miniature pecan pies that glistened in the candlelight.
‘This is Christmas heaven,’ I said a little while later patting my stomach. ‘Absolutely perfect. Your friend has great taste.’
‘Never tell him that, he’s cocky enough as it is,’ said Noah with a laugh.
‘You should meet him. You’d probably like him.
He’s a journalist, too. He loves it.’ Noah turned to look at me.
He was so close I could see the colour of his irises, darker blue flecks among the deep blue and they softened in what I guessed was sympathy when he asked, ‘What about your job? Do you enjoy it?’
I caught my lip between my teeth, reliving the gut punch when my boss had told me I was suspended.
‘I was good at it,’ I said, my voice suddenly plaintive.
I hated that I sounded pathetic, but I couldn’t help it.
‘I don’t think they’re going to reinstate me.
’ Fighting for control, I turned on him, a touch belligerent.
‘I bet you wouldn’t blame them, would you?
Hardly the greatest advert for their magazine.
A financial journalist who can’t even spot a financial scam. ’
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself,’ said Noah and he put a hand on mine. ‘I’m sorry I said what I did, before. I didn’t know the background. Now I understand why you were so keen to believe that the prize of a trip to New York was real.’
He squeezed my hand. ‘Those bastards touched a sore spot.’ He looked at me and his eyes flashed. ‘If they’d known … well, they deserve to die a long and ugly death. Although I’m guessing they just got lucky with the scam and you. It doesn’t seem fair that you might lose your job as well.’
I felt as if a huge weight had been removed. I took in a breath to see if I could breathe easier. It seemed as if I could. Someone understood. Someone on my side. Someone looking out for me. I hadn’t had that for a long time.
I shrugged, doing my best to hide that his words had touched a part of me and it was getting harder and harder to keep hidden under the layers.
Noah continued and I listened because it was a relief to hear.
‘These scammers are good at what they do. Lots of people get caught out. At least you didn’t lose too much.
I’ve heard of people who have lost hundreds of thousands.
Old people losing their life savings. Students being taken for every penny they have. ’
‘I know,’ I said, realising he really was trying to make me feel better and remind me I wasn’t the only idiot on the planet.
‘It’s happening all the time. In fact, it’s not talked about enough.
Most people, me included, are too embarrassed to admit what’s happened.
I wouldn’t have told anyone if it wasn’t for that flipping TikTok going viral. ’
‘But people need to know,’ said Noah, gently. ‘You could write about it. As someone who’s been through it, I’d have thought other people would be prepared to open up to you and share their stories to help prevent other people being scammed.’