Chapter 3
MERRY
“Excuse me, miss?”
Merry stirred from her daydream, blinking away visions of Christian, to see the balding, middle-aged man in front of her. He was drenched from head to toe, thanks to the freezing rain outside, and his outstretched hand was trembling with the cold.
“Oh,” she said. “Right, sorry.”
She handed him the last of her leaflets and he smiled gratefully.
“Go grab a coffee and a gingerbread cookie,” she said. “It will warm you right up. And don’t forget to buy a raffle ticket for the ball!”
The man walked away and Merry stretched her arms above her head, yawning.
She had no idea what the time was, but judging how sore her legs were and how dark it was outside, and how badly she needed to pee, it had to be near the end of her shift.
The trouble with Carroll’s was that there were no clocks anywhere, and she wasn’t allowed to carry her phone on her.
Usually somebody came to relieve her, but the shop was so busy tonight they must have got waylaid.
She really needed the toilet, so she abandoned her post and made her way through the crowds.
For a second, she thought she spotted Christian in the crush — a flash of checked jacket — but she tried not to be too disappointed when she realised it wasn’t him.
It took her a good few minutes to weave her way across the atrium, as she had to field half a dozen requests for help from irritated customers.
By the time she reached the elevators she was ready to burst, and she wished she’d taken the longer route to the staff one — especially when she heard a stern voice call out her name.
She hung her head, sighing deeply before turning around.
Mrs Cradley stood there, her foot tapping, her arms folded over her clipboard. “Miss Sinclair, where do you think you are going?”
“To the restroom,” she replied, trying not to jiggle. “My shift ended at seven.”
“Be that as it may,” Mrs Cradley said, glancing at her little gold watch. “You are not to leave your position until you are relieved. Is that clear?”
At this rate, she was going to be relieved all over the shop floor. Merry nodded, praying that the woman wouldn’t send her back. She could really do with Christian showing up and telling her boss where to go again.
Mrs Cradley stood there for a moment, almost as if she were enjoying torturing Merry. Then she glanced over at the front of the store — there was somebody else there now — and nodded.
“Very well,” she said. “But until you are off the shop floor you are still expected to behave like a member of staff, so please put your hat back on your head.”
Merry did as she was told, jabbing the elevator button and waiting for what felt like for ever for it to drop to the first floor.
Fortunately, nobody else was waiting, and when the doors closed behind her she took a huge sigh of relief.
It had been a long day, and her head was pounding, the jazz version of ‘Jingle Bells’ not helping.
She massaged her temples until the doors opened on the tenth floor.
There were still quite a few people up there, crowding around Santa’s grotto, and she kept her eyes on the floor as she speed-walked to the staff door at the back.
What’s the new code? For the life of her she couldn’t remember, and she was just starting to panic when the door opened and there he was.
Merry skidded to a halt before she ran right into him, but he was so distracted he barely noticed her.
Only after a double take did he break into a smile, but he looked paler than he had before, as if some of the vitality had been sucked right out of him.
“Oh, hi,” Merry said. “I didn’t realise you worked here.”
“I didn’t,” he said, hovering in the door. “But I do now.”
Merry had to stop herself from doing a little jig of happiness. That was fantastic news!
He’s engaged, you idiot! her brain said, and the disappointment must have registered on her face because Christian laughed.
“You don’t look too happy about it,” he said.
“No, it’s great.” She beamed at him. “I’m really pleased. I’m just surprised — I didn’t have you down as the retail type, that’s all.”
“I’m not, normally,” he said. “But a pay check is a pay check, right?”
“Right! So are you on the store floor?” Merry asked. “Sales? Are you in tomorrow? I can show you the ropes if you like. There’s not much to it, just smile and be polite. And, you know, don’t headbutt the customers.”
He laughed, and Merry would have too if she hadn’t been so desperate for the toilet. She squirmed, wishing her bladder was a little bigger so she didn’t have to run.
“But seriously,” she said, “it’s easier when somebody helps you out. My first few days here I was a mess, until one of the girls from Perfume took me under her wing. Her name’s Alice, not that you need to know that.”
Stop wittering!
“That’s really kind of you,” he said. “But I’m not on the shop floor.”
“Marketing?” she asked. “No, management. I guess a guy like you tends to run things. Are you my new boss?” She laughed nervously.
Christian popped his lips, fixing her with those perfect brown eyes. “I’m actually working with the cleaning team.”
“You’re a janitor ?” The words exploded from her mouth a little louder than she’d intended.
She saw the moment his face fell, and she instantly regretted her tone.
“Cool. Really, it’s cool. I can’t tell you what a sty this place would be without you guys.
We’d be wading in our own filth. Cleaners make the world go round, if you ask me. You guys are really . . . cool.”
Stop talking! she screamed at herself, mentally buttoning her mouth shut. She’d reached a crisis point — if she didn’t excuse herself in the next ten seconds then Christian’s first job was going to be mopping up the puddle she was about to make.
“Thanks,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she lied. “Sure. I mean, kind of. Look, I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”
He stood to one side and she practically ran past him.
Brilliant. Just brilliant. That really couldn’t have gone any worse.
The one guy she wouldn’t mind impressing and she was running away from him, all because she’d had one too many mochas on her last break.
She stopped, catching the door before it could close.
Christian stood there, a puzzled look on his face as she waved goodbye.
She peed and then changed quickly, hurrying out of the store. The cold air hit her cheeks, fresh and sharp after the overheated crush of the shop. She tugged her coat more tightly around herself and set off down Fifth Avenue, her boots tapping against the pavement.
The street was still busy, glittering with Christmas lights, and for the first time all day she felt herself relax. Her shift was over. No more fake smiles, no more dodging grabby customers. Just her, the city and the promise of the best hot chocolate in Manhattan waiting a few blocks away.
She wasn’t ready to head back to her apartment yet. The thought of the damp creeping up the walls, the rattling pipes and her roommate’s endless, tinny reality shows — or, worse, her endless sex noises blaring through the paper-thin walls — made her slow her steps even more.
She wandered along, her breath misting in front of her, and somewhere between the storefronts and the swirling snowflakes her mind drifted right back to Christian.
Merry hugged herself more closely, blaming the chill when really it was heat curling low in her belly.
It had been a long time since someone had made her feel that kind of spark.
A long time since she’d even wanted to feel it.
She caught her reflection in a shop window — pink-cheeked, grinning like an idiot — and rolled her eyes at herself.
Get a grip, Merry. He’s engaged, remember?
Still, for a few more steps, she let herself imagine a different ending to tonight. One where she wasn’t walking alone. One where she wasn’t heading back to a cold apartment and a roommate with no volume control. One where she could be making her own loud sex noises for a change.
By the time she pushed open the door to the hot-chocolate shop, she barely noticed the blast of heat that hit her. She was already warm from the inside out, running on a daydream-fuelled glow that not even the winter wind could touch.