Paula’s apartment was amazingly roomy, especially for Manhattan, with plenty of space for Paula’s many party guests to spread out. The decor was stylish, modern, and monochromatic, in shades of white and black. Light hardwood floors, broad expanses of wall, and floor-to-ceiling windows added to the impression of space. A fire blazed in the gas log fireplace, in front of which a glass-and-chrome coffee table sat on a cream flokati rug. Near the living room, glass doors opened to a terrace that had a spectacular view of the city.
The ultramodern kitchen had long white work surfaces, stainless appliances, and open shelving. The kitchen was completely open to the living room, and a beige counter that ran the length of the room could be used as a dining table or as a bar. Tonight, it was a bar. Jennifer got a flute of champagne, and Brad picked up a glass of white wine. At the end of the bar, a silvery-white faux Christmas tree sparkled with clear fairy lights. They chatted as they walked around the apartment.
Jennifer was nervous as she told Brad that she was going away for a week. She wasn’t quite sure why. Was she afraid to rock the boat in their relationship? Even if Brad wasn’t her ideal, and their connection was somewhat tepid, he was a savvy, romantic choice.
“You’re going to Colorado,” Brad said, sounding disappointed. “I was hoping we’d go to all the holiday parties here in New York.” Brad was zealous about networking and determined to break out of local news into national sportscasting. He’d set his sights on a job at ESPN. He’d admitted to Jennifer that he wanted to be seen with her in public as much as possible so they would be known as a power couple.
Jennifer was sorry to disappoint him, but she was looking forward to escaping the stresses and frenetic activity of New York City. Although she sometimes found the pace invigorating, part of her also yearned for a simpler environment that would let her balance her thriving career with…with what? She wasn’t sure, and she needed some quiet time to think about it, so she tried to explain. “I’m sorry, Brad, but when Paula offered me her cabin… I don’t know… It’s just, if I can’t get away for the holidays, when can I? I work the other fifty-one weeks of the year.”
Fortunately, he wasn’t a controlling person like her ex. Brad shrugged. “I understand. It’s just—don’t take too long. Between your career and my career, we’d be unstoppable.”
Jennifer smiled and nodded. She liked Brad just fine. He was friendly, handsome, outgoing, and passionate about his work. She knew that he, in turn, was impressed with her success, and he often told her she was beautiful. He seemed to have a real affection for her, but they weren’t exactly in love. She knew he was right, though: together, they would draw media attention both in the sports world and from the Homestyle audience. But it felt…artificial. Uncomfortable. A faint reminder that her ex, Ashton, had used her to advance his career. She didn’t blame Brad at all for being ambitious, though. Success was important to her, as well. She just didn’t see it as a good enough basis for a relationship.
She’d all but given up on finding a soul mate. With Ashton, she had believed she was truly in love—only to learn after they’d married that he was far different in reality from the man she had thought him to be. It had been a devastating experience. After the divorce, Jennifer had taken refuge in her work.
Paula, in a black turtleneck sweater dress and silver jacket, came up to welcome them. “Ooh, wow. Honey, you look gorgeous.”
Jennifer thanked her. As a hostess, Paula was obviously in her element, circulating among her guests, chatting and making introductions, and keeping everything running smoothly. Jennifer enjoyed watching her.
Paula turned to Brad. “And Brad, you look as handsome as always.”
He sketched a bow of thanks and said, “Milady.”
“I am so glad that you came and you came together,” Paula said. Jennifer could almost hear her friend thinking, See? You make a great-looking couple.
“Thank you, Paula,” Jennifer said. “Your party is amazing, and you and your apartment—but especially you—look stunning.”
“Thank you.” Paula turned to Brad again. “Can I borrow her?”
He smiled and nodded, then held up a finger. “But just for a minute.”
Paula steered Jennifer away. “Come with me and allow me to introduce you to the network president. He’s right over here by the crudités.”
Jennifer spoke with the president of the Kitchen Network, feeling awkward at first. She started off the conversation with business, but once she got him on the subject of his grandchildren, he grew very animated. They ended up talking for nearly an hour. Jennifer reminded herself that this kind of casual chat in a nonbusiness setting was exactly why Paula had wanted her here. She moved on to mingle with more of the guests.
Brad spent the last part of the party chatting up a sexy young producer from ESPN. Jennifer wasn’t jealous. He was just hoping to improve his chances of getting a job there. But even if he’d been outrageous in his flirting, Jennifer didn’t think it would have bothered her. They hadn’t made any commitment to each other. Their careers were on a similar upward trajectory, but other than that, they didn’t seem to have much in common.
Parties weren’t always fun for Jennifer. She often busied herself in activities like straightening the buffet, clearing dishes, or cleaning. It was comforting. It reminded her of helping her friend Meredith with her catering business.
The clock had crept well past midnight when Brad went home and the caterers left. Jennifer stayed behind, cleaning up and stacking dishes in the dishwasher.
Paula said goodbye to her last few guests at the door and then returned to the kitchen. She looked chagrinned. “What are you doing?”
Jennifer smiled. “I’m cleaning your kitchen. You’ve got so much here. Come on, you can’t do it all alone.” As far as she was concerned, helping to clean up was just good manners.
“No, stop,” Paula said. “As of now, you are officially on vacation.”
Jennifer picked up a few more dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher.
Paula said, “Make that your last batch. Come on, I want you to have a drink with me. Just leave all this.”
Reluctantly, Jennifer went to the long table that fronted the kitchen and sat on a beige upholstered chair. She hated to leave a mess. She sighed. “Christmas is so much work. Christmas comes with a ‘stick.’”
“But you are so good at it,” Paula said. “And people like us, we don’t know how to do anything else but make it perfect.”
Jennifer watched as her friend poured them each a glass of pinot blanc. Paula was right, of course. They both wanted every detail of a project to be just so. Even their perpetually tidy apartments were examples of their attention to detail, although Paula’s was spare and modern, while her own was full of homey touches. Perfectionism had a cost, though. Jennifer felt a constant pressure to do more, to improve. The price was that she never stopped to simply enjoy the now.
“When was the last time that it didn’t feel like work—that it felt like a real Christmas?” Jennifer asked.
“Oh.” Paula chuckled and put her wine glass down. “Well, m’darlin. If I tell you that, then I’ll be telling you my age.”
“You know, I remember this one Christmas,” Jennifer said, “when my mom sewed me this special dress—I was playing an angel in the Christmas pageant