Chapter 28
CHRISTIAN
Applause thundered in his ears, but Christian’s heartbeat drowned it all out. He scanned the crowd, willing himself to smile, to look composed, like a man ready to take over a New York institution with a vision to be proud of. But his eyes flicked between faces in a growing panic.
Where was she?
He tried to speak but all he could think was that Merry wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
Why had his dad sprung this on him with no warning?
But, as Christian looked to his dad, he knew the old man wasn’t to blame.
Christian should have told Merry the truth right from the very beginning.
He had enjoyed being anonymous and it had cost him dearly.
There.
A flicker of movement, near the back. Shimmering dress, red hair. It was Merry, pushing through the crowd, head down, body taut like a bowstring.
No. No, no, no.
He stepped towards the edge of the platform instinctively, mic still in hand, voice faltering as he knew he couldn’t run away this time.
“And of course, we couldn’t have done any of this without the incredible staff.” He caught himself. “Thank you. Your dedication is unmatched.”
His mouth moved, but his gaze followed her, watching as she slipped out of the room without a second glance back at him. God, he’d messed this up.
He turned back to the mic, heart hammering. “Carroll’s is more than a store to me, it’s my family.” His voice cracked, and he cleared it, forcing the rest of the sentence out. “And I’m honoured — truly honoured — to be a part of it again.”
Cameras flashed and people pointed their phones at him, capturing every word he was saying. But all Christian could think was that the one person he needed to hear him most was already gone. He felt his dad’s hand on the small of his back, and something inside him cracked.
He turned back to the crowd before he broke completely. He owed them too. They had been under so much pressure the last few months and he needed to tell them all it would be okay.
“I know there’s been confusion around what’s been going on here at Carroll’s.” His voice steadied, even as his heart frayed. “We’ve made mistakes. And I want you to hear this from me first, I’m going to fix the mess. Carroll’s will be transparent from here on in.”
He turned, catching his father’s eye. Lewis looked as stunned as everyone else and Christian stepped off the mic and pulled him into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly into his shoulder. “For disappearing. I’ll do my best for Carroll’s, I promise.”
Lewis squeezed his arm. “I know. I love you, son.”
“I love you too, Dad.” Christian nodded, then spun back to the mic. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, trying for levity and failing to keep the urgency from his voice, “I’m absolutely desperate for a vol-au-vent.”
A chuckle rose from the crowd, but he was already off the stage, weaving through staff and well-wishers. He had something more important to chase than applause.
He burst into the hallway, scanning left and right. Where the hell did she go?
Then he caught sight of the elevator at the end of the corridor. The light above it pinged bright at floor ten. He took off, yanking open the stairwell door and running up to the tenth floor two steps at a time.
By the time he got there his legs were burning and his lungs were seizing painful snatches of air. He thought she’d be heading to the locker rooms to grab her bag, but he skidded out into the hallway just in time to see a door slam shut at the far end. The roof access.
Not stopping to second-guess what he was going to say when he saw her, Christian pushed through to the roof and the icy air slapped him in the face. He crossed the rooftop quickly, shoes slipping on the slick metal covers as he made for the conservatory.
She had to be in there. He reached for the door just as it swung open.
“Oh!” It wasn’t Merry.
Mrs Cradley stood framed in the doorway, eyes watery from the cold, braced against the snow as she rubbed her hands together briskly.
Christian froze. “Mrs Cradley.”
To his utter shock, the stern-faced guardian of the employee rota smiled at him. Actually smiled.
“Well, don’t just stand there gawping,” she said. “Get in before your eyelashes freeze off.”
He blinked. “What?”
She stepped aside, ushering him through the door. Inside, the warmth of the little glass room hit him like a memory. Two cups of hot chocolate waited on the table, clouds of whipped cream slowly melting beneath rainbow sprinkles.
Christian stared at them.
“Did you—?”
“Yes,” she said, pulling a woollen hat down over her ears. “I see everything that goes on in this store. I see the duties, yes, I see the chatter and the late arrivals, but I also see the magic. And this—” she smiled at him — “is magic.”
Her eyes softened on him. “It’s good to have you home, Christian.”
Christian frowned. “How long have you known?”
Mrs Cradley smiled and turned to go. Then she seemed to have second thoughts.
“There’s something you should know,” she told him. “I saw you that day, hiding in the toys, listening to Margot and me.”
Christian stiffened.
“You heard us talking,” she went on. “I saw the look on your face. You thought we were scheming, didn’t you? Against the store, I mean?”
Wary, he nodded once.
“We weren’t.” Her eyes held his. “We were talking about your father.”
Christian’s breath caught.
“He’d stopped listening to reason,” she said simply.
“Started making decisions behind closed doors. Gutting the heart of this place, piece by piece. Margot and I . . . well, we were trying to stop him before there was nothing left to save. Margot may be harsh in many ways, but she didn’t want to see Carroll’s sabotaged.
She’s given her life to this place, even if sometimes maybe it would have been better for her to have a life away from your father, if you see where I’m going? ”
A gust of wind rustled her hat as she stepped fully into the doorway, silhouetted against the city skyline.
Christian stared at her, his throat tight.
“Margot . . . and Dad?” he murmured, piecing it together.
Mrs Cradley gave him a quiet, knowing smile. “As I said, Mr Carroll, I see everything. Margot loved your dad, but your dad stayed ever faithful to your mum, even when she wasn’t around anymore.”
Then she nodded towards the conservatory behind him. “Now, go on. It’s your turn. She’s in there and she’s hurting. And you need to fix it.”
She slipped away into the wind, leaving Christian reeling as the door clicked shut behind him with a finality that echoed in his bones.
Merry was standing by the little sofa, her back to him, shoulders shaking as she folded her dress with trembling hands.
Her hair was falling from where it had been pinned up, strands tickling down her back, and she was already zipped back into her old Carroll’s uniform.
Reclaiming the version of herself he’d met that first day at the front door.
Her duffle bag lay open on the cushions. She lifted the dress as if it were breakable and tucked it carefully inside.
“Merry,” he whispered, afraid to break the silence.
She didn’t look at him. Just zipped the bag closed.
“You don’t get to say my name,” she said flatly, turning. Her face was blotchy, streaked with mascara, eyes blazing. “You don’t get to stand there and pretend you care when all of this—” she flung a hand towards the conservatory — “was a performance.”
“It wasn’t. I promise, nothing about me is a performance.”
“Oh, please.” She bent down, grabbed the duffle bag by the handles, and threw it at him. He caught it, barely, and placed it gently on the floor.
“I don’t want to be bought,” she said, voice breaking. “Not with Storm dresses or goddamn whipped cream and sprinkles.”
Christian’s stomach dropped. “I’d never—”
“You told me you saved Devlin’s life,” she snapped. “I bet you were both just laughing at me behind my back. And I was an idiot to believe you. Like, what the fuck, saved Devlin’s life? I blame myself for believing it.”
“I actually did save his—”
“Don’t,” she said sharply. “Don’t twist it. You embedded yourself here like some undercover billionaire, gathering information so you could take control. And I—” Her voice cracked. “I let you in. I trusted you. God, I even defended you.”
“Merry, please,” he said, helpless, stepping towards her.
She backed away.
“Were you even planning on leaving, or was that another ploy to get me in deeply and quickly?”
“I was leaving, I promise.” Christian ran a hand through his hair. “God, this is such a mess.”
“I wish you still were. I was happy before you came along. I had a simple life, a good job, friends. You’ve wrecked all of that. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
Silence pulsed between them as Christian scrambled to find something to say that Merry would listen to. But it was too late. She was already lost to him.
“I never want to see you again,” she said, with a cold finality.