The Mistletoe Promise (9 page)

“It’s the measuring stick life gave me,” I replied. “It’s funny how different kids can be from their parents.”

“Like you,” Nicholas said.

“Yes, but I meant Dan. Dan’s father is the most humble man you’ll ever meet. He’s had his same job as a hospital administrator for more than thirty years. He adores his wife and treats her like a queen. Sometimes I wish I had married Dan’s father instead of him.”

“No you don’t,” Nicholas said. “He’s too old.”

I smiled. “You’re right.” I breathed the cold air in deeply. “Now, may I ask you a deep, probing question?”

“It’s only fair,” he said.

“Do you ever wish you were married and had children?”

He thought a moment. “Yes. To both.”

“Then why don’t you? It’s not like that would be hard for you. Just in my office I know two women who would be more than happy to oblige you.”

“I guess it’s just taken me a little while to get to this place.”

“So why the contract? Why not just date?”

“Training wheels,” he replied.

“Training wheels,” I repeated, smiling. “I like that.” I slipped again. Again Nicholas caught me.

“It’s the shoes,” I said. “They don’t do snow.”

“I think
you
need training wheels.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Let’s go back and have some of that pie,” he said.

“All right. Just don’t let me fall.”

By the time we returned from our walk, the boys had disappeared and Grandma Wilma had already eaten her sliver of mincemeat and retired to the guest room to nap. Nicholas and I joined Scott and Sharon at the table for coffee and pie.

“Elise,” Sharon said. “Your pies are divine. This pecan pie is amazing.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re definitely on our guest list next year.”

“Or at least your pies are,” Scott joked. “In case this doesn’t work out.”

I furtively glanced at Nicholas, who didn’t respond.

We sat around and talked for nearly an hour. Eventually our conversation turned to the natural sleep agent properties of tryptophan in turkey, to which Nicholas yawned and said, “I need a nap.” He looked at me as if seeking permission.

“Go for it,” I said.

He went into the living room, leaving the three of us still at the table.

“The food was really great,” I said to Sharon. “Thank you for letting me join you.”

“Thank you for coming,” Sharon said. “You know, you’re good for him.”

Scott nodded. “In all the years I’ve known Nick, I’ve never seen him this happy.”

“We’ve only known each other for three weeks,” I said.

“And the last three weeks he’s been a changed man,” Scott said.

Sharon nodded. “He’s definitely in love.”

The word paralyzed me. The L word. I suddenly wished that Nicholas had told them the truth about us.

“I think I’ll check on Nicholas,” I said. I pushed back from the table and went into the living room. The light was off, and the room was lit by the orange-yellow fire.

Nicholas was asleep on the sofa in front of the fireplace. I sat down next to the couch and just looked at him, the flickering flames reflecting off his face. He was beautiful. More beautiful since I’d gotten to know him.
Do I really make him happy? Why does our relationship feel so real?
I took a deep breath. An inner voice said to me,
You’re losing it, Elise. You know it’s not real. You’re going to get your heart broken.
Then another voice said back,
I don’t care.
I lay my head against him and closed my eyes and pretended that we were the couple everyone thought we were.

CHAPTER

Fourteen

Cars are remarkable machines. A man may devote his life to charity, but put him in a car and take his parking stall and he’ll cut your throat.

Elise Dutton’s Diary

I woke the next morning to my phone ringing. It was still dark outside.

“Hello?” I said groggily.

“What are you doing?” Nicholas asked.

“I’m sleeping. What time is it?”

“Six. Almost.”

“Why are you calling me so early?”

“It’s Black Friday,” he said. “I need to do some Christmas shopping. Want to come?”

“Is this on our schedule?”

“No, I’m completely ad-libbing here.”

“Can I get ready first?”

“Of course. I’ll be over in twenty minutes.”

“Okay,” I said. “Wait, I can’t be ready in twenty minutes.”

“How long do you need?”

“Give me an hour.”

“That’s a lot of daylight,” he said.

“I need an hour,” I said firmly.

“All right. See you in an hour. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up, then climbed out of bed and took a
shower to wake myself up. As usual, Nicholas was right on time.

“Where are we going?” I asked with my eyes closed, reclining the seat in his car.

“City Creek Center.”

“It’s going to be a zoo.”

“I know,” he said.

A few minutes later I asked, “Why aren’t you tired?”

“It’s a day off. Do you really want to sleep through it?”

“Yes,” I said.

The shopping center was crazy crowded, and parking was at a premium. We passed two people trying to pull into the same slot in the parking garage, both unwilling to yield. They just kept honking at each other.

“Think we’ll find a space?” I asked.

“I’d bet on it,” he said. A few minutes later he pulled into a reserved spot with his name on it, and we took the elevator up to the ground level.

The shopping center had only opened the previous year and was clearly the place to go. It was an upscale, open-air shopping center that had a simulated creek running through it. It occupied six acres in downtown Salt Lake City with a sky bridge over Main Street connecting the two blocks.

We were walking out of Godiva Chocolatier, where we had stopped for chocolate-covered strawberries (which was probably the best breakfast I’d had in years), when Nicholas said, “I need to stop at the Coach store to pick up a bag for one of the partners. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” I followed him to the shop.

A professional-looking man, bald with a graying goatee, approached Nicholas. “May I help you, sir?”

“I’m looking for a leather carry-on bag.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” said the man. He led us over to a wall display of leather bags. “I’ve got the Thompson foldover tote, that’s been quite popular. And the new Bleecker line. I’ve got the map bag in leather; it comes in two colors, brass and mahogany, and a leather-trimmed webbing strap.”

“No, it looks too much like a man purse,” Nicholas said. “How much is this bag?” he asked, lifting one to examine it more closely.

“That’s the Bleecker flight bag. It’s four hundred and ninety-eight dollars.”

That was almost my entire life savings.

“What colors does it come in?” Nicholas asked.

“Just what you see here, black and brass.”

“I’ll take the brass.”

“Very good choice,” the man said. “Much more masculine design. Do you need anything else?”

“No, that’s all.”

“Give me just a moment and I’ll ring you up.”

“Here’s my card,” Nicholas said, handing him a black credit card. There was a long line of people making purchases.

“That’s a nice bag,” I said.

“It’s for one of my partners,” he said. “He’ll like it. He likes luggage.”

“It’s expensive.”

“Not for him,” he said.

“Or you,” I added. As we waited in line I noticed that there was a Pandora shop across the way. Cathy was a Pandora fanatic, and she always loved getting new charms.

“Nicholas,” I said, “I’m going to go over to the Pandora shop.”

“No problem. I’ll come over after.”

I walked over to the store and browsed the display cases until I found a sterling silver clover with green enamel. It was perfect. Cathy was Irish and proud of it.

“May I help you?” a woman asked. I looked up. The woman was about my age, heavy with gold, permed hair.

“I’d like to purchase that charm right there,” I said, pointing to the piece.

“The clover?” she asked.

“Yes, please.”

She lifted it from the display case. “This also comes in gold with diamonds.”

“The silver charm is fine, thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“No, that’s it.”

“This way, please.”

I followed her over to the cash register.

“Will that be cash or plastic?”

“Plastic,” I said, handing her my Visa card. She ran my card, glanced at the name, then back up at me. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so.”

She glanced once more at my name on the credit card. “Elise Dutton. No, I think I do. What school did you go to?”

“I’m not from around here.”

“Hmm,” she said, handing me back my card. Then a look of recognition came to her eyes. “I know who you are. I read a story about you a few years back. You . . .” She stopped abruptly.

“Yes?” I said.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m mistaken.”

She quickly packaged up my purchase and handed me the bag. “Thank you for shopping. Have a good day.”

“Happy holidays,” I said dully, then quickly left the store.

Nicholas met me as I was walking out. “Sorry that took so long,” he said. “That guy was inept with a cash register.” He looked at me closely. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not feeling well,” I said. “Can we go?”

“Of course.” He glanced over at the store, then took my hand. “Come on. It’s too crowded here anyway.”

CHAPTER

Fifteen

Dan came to see me today. He’s about as welcome as a January utility bill.

Elise Dutton’s Diary

The next Monday was calmer than usual since we didn’t have any tours out that week. The holidays were our slowest time of the year, and most of our efforts then went toward preparing and marketing the next year’s tours.

A little before noon I looked up to see Dan standing in the doorway of my office. “Flowers,” he said. “Where’d you get those?”

“What do you want?” I asked.

He stepped into my office. “You weren’t at Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I told your parents I wouldn’t be there.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“What do you want, Dan?”

“I came to see what’s up. Why you didn’t come.”

“I was busy.”

“On Thanksgiving?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“What, you had work?”

“I had another invitation to dinner,” I said, annoyed by his persistence. “I always thought it was weird anyway, going to dinner with you and Kayla.”

“An invitation from who?”

“A friend.”

“A friend,” he said suspiciously. “Male or female?”

“I don’t need to report to you.”

“A man, huh?” He walked closer to my desk. “Tell you what—I’ll take you to lunch, and you can tell me about this guy. I’ll pay.” He made the offer sound remarkably magnanimous, and, for him, it was.

“I already have lunch plans,” I said.

“Since when do you have lunch plans?”

“Since when do you care?” I said. “Where’s Kayla? Why don’t you take her to lunch?”

“I need to talk to you about her,” he said. “Who are you lunching with?”

“A friend,” I said.

“The Thanksgiving guy?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“What’s Thanksgiving guy’s name?”

“Nicholas,” Nicholas said, walking into my office.

Dan turned around. The look on his face was priceless, a mix of surprise and fear.

“Hi, Elise,” Nicholas said. He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.

Dan glanced back and forth between us, still not sure how to react.

“This is Dan,” I said. “My ex-husband.”

Nicholas looked at him coolly. “Dan.”

“Whassup,” Dan said. I knew Dan well enough to know that he was intimidated. Subconsciously, he threw his chest out a little.

Nicholas turned back to me. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” I took his hand. “I’ll talk to you later,” I said to Dan.

“Yeah, whatever,” Dan said.

Nicholas and I walked out of my office, leaving Dan standing there alone. I should have known that he’d never leave my new relationship alone.