This was how it was meant to be for kids. Each one with their own special gift and a chance to impart their deepest desires for Christmas morning to Santa, and the steady assurance of a loving parent waiting in the wings. Hadn’t she wished that for herself so many times?
When the last parcel was distributed, it was time to call the children’s party to an end. Santa had other obligations, and Holly’s half-hour window between the children’s party and the staff party was closing.
With a small announcement she brought the celebrations to a close and judging by the overwhelming round of applause, from both parents and children, Connor was a hit. As everyone filtered out, Holly finally allowed herself to relax, the knot of tension that kept her operating at maximum performance efficiency all day, all year for that matter, slowly untangling. Only one more party to get through, then it was all over for another year, she consoled herself.
“What was that all about?” Connor Knight’s voice slid through her like a hot knife through butter.
She drew in a long breath before answering. “I think it went well, don’t you? The children certainly loved you.”
“You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
Holly sighed. Evasion wouldn’t work. Tenacity was one of the many talents that had driven him to being one of the most-respected men in his field—worldwide. He wouldn’t give up until completely satisfied with her answer.
“Just catching my breath. That’s all. It’s taken a bit of work, getting this all organised.” She tried to assure him, and for a moment thought she’d succeeded.
A tiny flash lit the onyx depths of his eyes and grew into the hot glow of challenge. “Looked like more than that to me. I thought you were going to keel over.”
“Oh, good heavens, no.” Holly forced a smile on her face.
“Are you okay now?” he persisted.
“I’m fine. Just fine.”
“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. Janet will take over for this evening.”
“No, I’m okay. Truly.”
Connor gave her a hard look. “We’ll see about that. Come on, we’d better get ready for the next onslaught.”
“You go on ahead. I’ll meet you back down here.”
She watched as he left. What had made him notice her during that dreadful moment of weakness? Had anyone else seen it? She should never have agreed to stay on. Never.
Holly quickly glanced around. The cleaning staff were busy completing the transformation of the children’s party to a more sophisticated reenactment of a Christmas fantasy. It had been a brainwave to carry through the same delightful childlike theme to the staff party, and such a simple solution, given the time constraints. She wasn’t needed here any longer.
Back upstairs in her office, Holly opened the coat cupboard and lifted a long dry cleaner’s carrier from the rail. It was a simple matter to slip into the ladies’ room to change and touch up her makeup. She took a brief minute to loosen her hair, combing through its thick dark length so hard her scalp tingled. She studied her reflection a moment. How long had it been since she’d let her hair down, literally or figuratively? Too long. But time was not a commodity she could afford to waste. Not when so much depended on her.
She twisted her hair back up again, softening the tight twist that she usually wore by securing the silky black length in a fuller, softer knot at the nape of her neck. Finally satisfied when not a hair dared stray out of place she slicked on a ruby-coloured lipstick. The sales assistant had been right, Holly acceded with a small grimace, the rich colour did bring life to her faintly olive-tinted skin. She preferred softer, more understated colours that wouldn’t draw attention to the fullness of her lips, yet knew that she needed something striking for this evening. Besides, she’d reminded herself, today was her birthday. A girl had a right to look good.
A swift glance at her watch reminded her she had little time left. Holly slipped out of her sombre businesslike suit and carefully unzipped the carrier to remove the ankle-length crimson sheath cocooned within.
The high, straight, boat neckline of the sleeveless gown belied the deep vee cut away at its back. Holly unhooked her bra and stuffed it in the bottom of the carrier bag before stepping into the gown and shimmying the silky lined fabric up over her body. Surveying her reflection in the mirror, she wondered if she hadn’t gone too far this year; normally she hired a black dress, but there was something about this gown that had beckoned to her like a promise of hidden treasure. She’d hesitated at the cost, mindful of her financial commitments, but it wasn’t as if she’d be deluged with gifts from family or a lover. She had neither.
So for once she’d splurged. This was her gift to herself, and she would bask in the pleasure of wearing the gown all evening.
The minute Holly stepped from the ladies’ room she heard a raised female voice through the open door to Connor’s office. She would have recognised his ex-wife’s shrill tone anywhere. Before the divorce the secretarial pool had been at her beck and call to assist with her charity work—Carla Knight was nothing if not demanding. The girls would draw straws before anyone would set foot on this floor to take her instructions. Holly sent a silent wish skywards that whatever the situation was, and it sounded intense, it would be resolved quickly.
As silently as she could, she stowed her things back in her cupboard and turned to leave when suddenly Connor’s voice vibrated through the air, disgust lacing his words with a sharpness Holly had rarely heard from him.
“You don’t deny it then?”
“How dare you have me investigated? Those records were private!”
“Everything has its price, Carla. Unfortunately I never realised yours until it was too late. You can tell your fancy overpriced divorce lawyer you won’t be getting another cent beyond the settlement you’ve already received. Ever. Now, get out of my sight.”
“Gladly!”
It was too late to retreat now. Holly straightened her shoulders. There was nothing else for it but to meet the former Mrs. Knight face on.
“Slumming it with the staff tonight, Connor?” Carla spat, vitriol poisoning her exquisite features as she pushed her petite frame past Holly. She slanted a spiteful glare at Holly. “I might have known you’d be hovering around. But of course, I forgot, you don’t have anyone to go home to, do you?”
Speechless, Holly stood back and let the other woman through, leaving behind her a cloud of expensive French fragrance and the air crackling with ill humour.
“I’m sorry you had to bear the brunt of that, Holly.”
She drew in a calming breath and turned to face him. Connor stood at the door to his office, the usual resonance in his voice flat, his eyes glittering and fired with anger.
“It’s all right, sir.” She reached across her desk and extracted her evening bag from the top drawer, determined not to acknowledge the barb Carla had flung. She refused to submit to the other woman’s cruel taunt; she’d grown up with worse. While such sneers had the power to inflict pain, Holly had learned the hard way to never let it show. She straightened from her desk. “Are you ready to go back downstairs?”
He let out a breath, slowly and carefully, as if he’d been holding on to his control by a thread.
“Yeah. I’m ready.” He took a step towards her and let out a low whistle. “And so, it appears, are you.” A feral flash of hunger blazed and died