Christmas Ever After

That one made him smile.

He texted her back and received a flurry of emoticons in return.

The final text was from his friends back in the United States, reminding him that tonight was the VIP night for Skylar’s exhibition.

He could imagine them, gathered together in Harbor House on Puffin Island, sharing a bottle of wine and laughing while they sent a joint text.

You need to be there, Alec. The rat boyfriend has decided to show up and Skylar needs the support of her friends.

Rat boyfriend?

Several thoughts flitted through his mind. The first was that he and Skylar could hardly be described as “friends.” On a good day they tolerated each other for the sake of their wider friendship group; on a bad day they barely managed to be civil. His second thought was that Skylar’s choices in her relationships appeared to be no better than his own, and the third was that Brittany clearly had no idea how far Greenwich was from Knightsbridge.

He checked the time and calculated that by the time he got across town in the traffic, her VIP night would be over. But if he didn’t at least show his face, his life wouldn’t be worth living.

Brittany and Emily would both kill him and Ryan would cut off his supply of free beer at the Ocean Club bar.

With a faint smile he texted a reply promising to go and pocketed his phone.

He doubted Skylar would be pleased to see him, but he would have done his duty and with any luck would still be invited to spend Christmas at Harbor House.

Skylar, he knew, would be going home to her family in Long Island.

Walking away from the river to the street, he hailed a cab.

It was going to take a lifetime to cross London but hopefully he’d make it before the evening was over.

He’d congratulate her, she’d smile politely, he’d leave.

Duty done.

THE ROOM WAS BUZZING.

“The turnout is amazing.” Judy, the owner of the gallery, was on her second glass of champagne. “Do you see who is over there? Cristiano Ferrara. He owns an exclusive hotel chain. Sicilian.” She lowered her voice. “Very sexy.”

“And very married. He commissioned a piece of jewelry for his wife, Laurel. She’s pregnant.” And that, Sky thought, was romantic. Not a stark piece of paper that declared you husband and wife, but thoughtful, loving gestures that showed how much you cared.

It was her favorite type of commission.

A gift designed as an expression of love.

And there was no doubt how much Cristiano loved his beautiful wife. When people approached him he was polite, but it was obvious that tonight was a treat for his wife and she was the focus of his attention. He looked at Laurel as if she were the sun, the moon and the stars all in one perfect package.

Sky watched them wistfully.

She wanted that. She wanted that intense passion, but most of all she wanted someone who thought she was the best thing on the planet.

Confused, Sky glanced across at Richard, who was working the room.

Did he feel that way about her?

And could she feel that for him? Did she feel enough? Was this all it was? Her head was full of questions she couldn’t answer.

She’d always believed that if she ever fell in love, she’d recognize the feeling instantly, but maybe it wasn’t that simple.

Richard had been the last to arrive and had barely paused to greet her before vanishing into the crowd. Now he was talking to Nik Zervakis, the wealthy Greek-American owner of ZervaCo, who had flown in with his fiancée, Lily, an archaeology friend of Brittany’s who had helped Sky with ideas for her new collection.

“Nik has given me free rein to buy anything I like,” Lily confided. “So far I’ve bought those gorgeous starfish earrings and that pot in the corner. It’s similar to one he already has at his home in Greece.”

“Your home, too.”

“Yes, my home! Unbelievable, isn’t it? I still want to pinch myself every day.”

“How did you know?” Sky’s mouth was dry. “How did you know he was the right one? That this really was love?”

“That’s a difficult question.” Lily pondered, her eyes on Nik. “I can’t describe it. But sometimes it feels as if my heart is too big for my chest.” She gave a half smile and walked over to the pot. “I really do love this.”

“I should be giving you that, no charge. None of this would have happened without your help. You’re the Greek ceramics expert.”

“Not anymore. I’m turning into a corporate wife. My choice.” Lily glanced at Nik again, her eyes sparkling like the lights on a Christmas tree. “Give my love to Brittany when you see her. Will you be spending Christmas on Puffin Island?”

“No. I’ll be spending the holidays with my family.”

Her family and a hundred and twenty strangers.

People of influence.

It would be as much fun as a trip to the dentist.

Trying not to think about that, she hugged Lily and then mixed and mingled, accepting compliments and answering questions about her work.

It occurred to her that the only person who hadn’t congratulated her was Richard.

Even after the two wealthiest people in the room had left to go on to another Christmas event, he continued to network, pumping fists and slapping backs as he made his way round the room.

Sky was starting to wonder why he’d bothered coming when she saw him speak to the gallery owner, clear his throat and get ready to make a speech.

Her heart sank. Was he going to congratulate her publicly?

She would have preferred a more intimate exchange, a few personal words that showed he was proud of her, but she understood that this was the way Richard did things. He was all about reaching the widest audience possible. Why charm one person if you could charm ten?

He lifted a hand to silence the hum of conversation. “I want to thank you all for being here tonight.” He delivered his most engaging smile, the one that had carried him all the way to Capitol Hill just weeks earlier. “We’re all busy people, but like you I couldn’t miss Skylar’s little party. I want to thank you on her behalf.”

There were a few “ahhs” but Skylar frowned.

Little party?

He made her feel as if she was back in kindergarten. And she didn’t need him to thank people on her behalf. She’d already thanked them, as he would have known if he’d arrived earlier. He’d blamed traffic and she’d felt churlish for thinking that he should have allowed more time.