Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
SASHA
“I need to talk to you.”
I glance up from the cash register and stifle a groan. Of all the Christmas shops in all the villages in the world, he walks into mine…
“Hello to you too, Sebastian. How are you today?”
Sebastian doesn’t catch the pretence dripping from my smile as he ducks under the doorframe and steps deeper into the shop.
There’s a hesitance in his tread, and for a split-second I wonder why, until his head grazes the hanging ornaments and baubles suspended from the ceiling. In his effort to avoid them, he nudges a rotating display stand with one of his massive biceps. It sways slightly, sending the hand-painted baubles into a melodic domino-effect of clinks and clatters.
“Shit,” he mutters, steadying the whole thing with one enormous hand.
It’s innate, the way my gaze dips to the front of his jeans, then his feet, curious to see if there’s anything else about him that’s on the gigantic side.
What can I say? I’m only human.
It doesn’t help that he looks extra hot today, shoulders testing the limits of that red-check shirt all rolled up at the sleeves, forearms carved with veins and lightly dusted with dark hair. Then there’s that one infuriating curl artfully grazing his forehead no matter how many times he scrapes his fingers through it.
The audacity of this man.
“If you’re here to tell me I can’t decorate the manor again or fire me before I’ve even started, I don’t want to hear it,” I tell him. “Edith hired me so she should be the one to fire me, but I hope she doesn’t because I need this job. Not that you needed to know that. Or maybe you do. Maybe it’ll get you off my back.”
Sebastian blinks. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I need to ask you a favour,” he grits out, reluctance heavy in his tone.
“A favour from me? Excuse me while I fall over in shock.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He squints at my face, then moves closer to get a better look in the dim afternoon light. Barely ten seconds of scrutiny and something lethal appears in his gaze. “Who did that to you?”
I shift back at the fierceness of his tone, the intensity. It’s a touch dramatic, but unexpectedly sweet, especially from him of all people.
“No one.”
He steps forward again, looming over the counter and putting me deeper into his shadow. “Tell me.”
“Fine. I’ll show you instead. Come on.”
Sebastian follows me with a frown.
“This guy.” I thumb at Ernie the Nutcracker outside the shop door like, would you look at this dick? “Can you believe it? The cheek of him.”
“Are you taking the piss?”
“No. He whacked me right in the face the other day when I moved him outside from storage.” I press gingerly at the bruised skin around my eye and cheekbone, too sensitive to disguise with makeup today. It definitely got me a few worried looks on my walk to work this morning, which surprised me. I might’ve lived here for two years, but sometimes my brain is still wired to London living. I could’ve walked around with my arm hanging off and no one would’ve noticed.
I miss it sometimes.
“You should’ve asked someone to help you,” Sebastian barks.
He’s angry but I don’t know why. It’s not like I hit myself on purpose.
I gesture vaguely at the empty shop. “Who would I ask?”
“Anyone. People are happy to help each other around here. You don’t need to do everything alone.”
Little does he know.
My chin lifts, smug and defiant. “I had everything handled.”
“The black eye says otherwise.”
“Eh. Perils of the job. I figure myself lucky Ernie’s not the solid-wood original. I think that one might’ve knocked me unconscious. Good thing it was stolen, huh?”
“Am I really having this conversation?”
I chuckle at that. “What can I do for you, Sebastian? You said something about a favour?”
“Right. Yeah.” He rattles his head like he wants to dust off the last five minutes. “It’s about my gran.”
Oh.
My amusement fades.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, although for whatever reason, she’s got it in her head that this Christmas will be her last. Before you freak out…” He holds up his hand as I start to do exactly that.
I can’t lose anyone else.
Not again.
“I don’t believe her for one second,” he carries on. “I know my grandmother. She’s in perfect health, but she’s also up to something. I haven’t figured out what exactly, and until I do I still want to make her happy. Just in case. I’m hedging my bets here. I’m letting her think she has the upper hand.”
I want to roll my eyes again. The upper hand against Edith? Don’t make me laugh.
“Okay…” I draw out the word longer than necessary. “But what does that have to do with me?”
Sebastian grimaces, reaching back to scratch and swipe the back of his neck. “Well, I was hoping you might agree to date me for a bit.”
“WHAT?”
“That was a bit dramatic. Jesus.”
“I’m sorry. You surprised me. That is the last thing I ever expected you to say. I don’t get it.”
“Apparently, Gran’s dearest wish is to see me settled down before Christmas. She wants me to get a girlfriend. That’s where you come in.”
“Ha. Yeah right.”
“I’m being serious, Sasha.”
“So am I.” I pick up a basket of gift tags and carry it to the counter, for no other reason than to have something to do. “This is me seriously saying no. Absolutely not.”
“It wouldn’t be real dating. We’d fake it.”
“How can we fake date in Walmsley? Everyone knows everyone’s business.”
“Are you saying you’re not up for the challenge? I’m disappointed.”
“Oh, believe me. I’m more than up for it?—”
“Really?” His grin is a touch too wicked for my liking, a touch too pleased.
“Yes. I would make that challenge my bitch. But it’s ridiculous. Tell Edith no. You’re nearly forty, for god’s sake.”
“Have you ever said no to my grandmother?”
Well…
My mouth opens then closes.
“Okay, you’ve got me there. Damn you,” I add under my breath.
“Look, it’s not a big deal. We’ll go out a couple of times. Get the gossip mill going. It’ll get back to Gran and that’s it.”
“Please. As if it would be that easy. I didn’t think you naive.”
“Okay, at most you might have to come to dinner, but Gran and Charlotte would be there and you like them.”
“That’s true, I do. But me and you? We don’t really get along.”
Understatement of the century.
“Well, maybe that’s because you haven’t given us the chance to get to know one another,” Sebastian says. “You barely give me the time of day. Most of the time you look like you’re thinking of elaborate ways to cut my balls off.”
“I’ve only thought about that once or twice, let’s not exaggerate.”
“Sasha,” he breathes through a laugh.
“Are you forgetting how you treated me?” I snap, not wanting to be lured by his charm or how handsome he looks when he stops grimacing. “You were so rude.”
“That was two years ago.”
“Yes. I know. I’m very good at holding grudges. It’s one of my many strengths.”
Sebastian chuckles again, like I’m the most entertainment he’s had in days, years even, and I kinda hate how much I’m enjoying this buzzy back and forth. It doesn’t make a lick of sense.
Maybe it’s the brief respite from all this Christmas mundanity.
“Look, as much as I understand why you want to do this, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Maybe find someone else. I won’t say a word to Edith about it, if that helps.”
“There is no one else,” he says.
“I’m sure that’s not true. This village is full of women. Ask one of them.”
“I don’t know any of them.”
“You don’t know me either.”
“I know you more than them. We first met as teenagers. We have history.”
I screw up my entire face. “Our history is me saying hello in passing one time when our grandmothers were having afternoon tea, and you ignoring me. We literally never spoke to each other.”
“Then let’s rectify that.”
“Oh my god. Stop. I can’t do this, Sebastian. I have a lot on my plate right now.”
“Like what?”
Like what, he asks.
Like what!
A manic, hysterical sort of feeling blisters inside me, boiling up my oesophagus until it bursts out of me in a gush.
“Like running a business? Trying to keep this shop afloat? Like wondering how I’m going to pay my bills? Not knowing whether there will even be a shop to open this time next year. Worrying that I’ve let my grandmother down and destroyed her legacy. Drowning in guilt because part of me thinks I’ll be relieved to not have to deal with another day of fucking Christmas!”
The silence in the aftermath is so quiet you’d probably hear glitter drop.
Sebastian looks stunned, and there’s a smidge of terror skirting the edge of his concern. His head tilts softly to one side and his voice is much lower when he says, “Are you telling me you own a year-round Christmas shop and you hate Christmas?”
“ That’s what you got from that?”
“Of course not, but a lot of what you said is fixable. It’s regular business owner anxiety. Hating Christmas is not.”
“I don’t hate Christmas,” I say, but it lacks any power.
Sebastian chuckles. “Sasha, come on.”
I drop my head and sigh. We’re not friends, but I know enough about Sebastian. The man is tenacious when he wants to be, and he’s never going to let this go unless I admit to it.
Unless I own it.
“I’m all Christmassed out, okay?”
My shoulders sink, and I’m surprised by the relief at confessing this thing I’ve kept hidden for what feels like forever. I never imagined I’d be confessing to Sebastian King, of all people.
“Since I took over the family business it’s somehow become my entire life. You know that old song by the rock band Wizzard, ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday’? Well, I don’t get it because 365 days of Christmas is the opposite of fun. It’s a never-ending nightmare. But I’ll get over it. I just need to get my head on straight.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet. Any ideas?”
I’m joking, but there’s nothing funny about the way Sebastian shrugs and says, “Quit.”
“Never!” I gasp, the thought paralysing. “There’s a reason why Nan didn’t leave this place to my dad. He was never interested, but I was. This place is my childhood. It’s nostalgia. It’s filled with memories of helping her during the school holidays and weekends. I loved Christmas. The shop was always where I wanted to be.”
“So what changed?” Sebastian asks quietly.
I glance at the black and white picture of my grandparents taped to the counter behind the cash register. They’re standing in front of Mistletoe & Mine , an opening day sign strung in the window, and clinking glasses of what I know to be lemonade. Most importantly, they look blissfully happy.
I haven’t felt that kind of happiness in so long, my whole body aches with it some days.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I wish I did and then I could fix it.”
There’s a softness in Sebastian’s gaze now, contemplative, as he studies me. Silence hangs around us, like we’re frozen in a fraction of time.
“You might not know this,” he says eventually, “but I love Christmas.”
I find that hard to believe. “But you’re a grumpy bastard.”
“Maybe so. But I’m a grump who loves Christmas.”
“There’s no such thing.”
“It’s true. Having Charlie changed things for me. Christmas is magical when you have an excitable three-year-old. I’m not saying you only love Christmas if you have kids, but her enjoyment at that age rubbed off on me. Maybe we can do the same for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we can kill two birds with one stone. You agree to fake date me until Christmas, and I will take you on lots of festive dates to try and revive your Christmas spirit.”
“You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Someone has to be. Look, do this for me and I will leave you alone when you decorate the manor. You won’t even see me. I’ll be like a ghost. Most important of all, I won’t tell a soul you hate Christmas.”
“And if I say no?”
Sebastian shrugs. “Are you really gonna take that chance?”
This sneaky trickster bastard.
“This is blackmail. I unintentionally spilled a secret and you’re using it against me.”
“Not really. I’m using it to help you, while also helping me. Think of it as a mutual exchange. You’re a businesswoman, aren’t you?”
I stare at him for a long moment, my turn to be contemplative. The truth is I don’t have any alternatives, and it’s not as if this little agreement can make anything worse.
“You know what? Fuck it.” I throw my hands in the air and let them flop against my thighs. “What else have I got to lose?”