Page 94 of All I Want for Christmas

‘Good speech, as ever,’ Otto said begrudgingly, reaching for a bread roll. ‘Whatever your opinions on him, no one can deny he’s a pro.’

‘Otto, you never said his brother died,’ she said in a low voice.

He seemed surprised by the accusation. ‘Why would I?’

What could she say? That it explained so many things about him? ‘When did it happen, do you know?’

‘Nine or ten years ago now.’

‘It’s so terrible.’

‘Yes. I believe they were very close.’

Darcy swallowed, trying not to think about Max’s pain. She adored her own brother. She couldn’t imagine losing him. ‘It’s amazing that he’s doing this in his memory.’

Otto nodded. ‘Grief affects everyone differently, of course, but Max appears to have decided on action. He set up a research grant in his brother’s memory and, through the Foundation, he uses events like this to raise millions for the hospital every year...I’m not saying the guy’s not a bastard in the boardroom, but something like this makes it difficult to dislike him completely. Sometimes I even pity him, ridiculous though that may sound for a man seemingly with every gift and privilege at his disposal.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, he has nothing elsebutthis. It’s what makes him so good at his job. His career is his life now.’

‘But what about the rest of his family?’

Otto shook his head. ‘Helle told me once – during one ofher milder moments – that his parents died in a car accident when the boys were young. Max and Peder were raised by an aunt – they have a fair few cousins – but she sent them off to boarding school.’ He looked directly at Darcy. ‘You can see why he’s a very private man these days.’

Nils, on her other side, leaned towards them as he pointed to the tablet. ‘I need your opinions,’ he interrupted, unapologetically. ‘What do you think, for my teenage son? It’s his seventeenth birthday coming up. The session with the Coldplay producer? Or dinner with a Victoria’s Secret model?’

‘That’s easy – dinner with an Angel has to be every boy’s dream, surely?’ Darcy replied after a beat when Otto offered no opinion.

‘Manandboy’s dream,’ Nils chuckled, placing a bid as he talked. ‘I wonder if I could tag along too?’

She smiled back, even though she knew exactly who would be living out that particular dream tonight.

She settled in with a polite look of interest as Nils and Otto began debating the merits of the wine being served, but she felt the weight of a stare settle upon her and looked up to find Max watching her from across the room.

Her instincts quivered from his scrutiny, having somehow known it would be him.

The body knows.It always knows.

People were dancing. The silent auction had closed and the royal couple had left suitably soon after dinner ended. The business of the gala had concluded and this was the fun part of the night, where the good wine and good food took effect. The mood had quickly stepped up as royalty exited and manners were relaxed. A band was playing and the dance floor was full, with Veronique putting on a show byshimmying her hips and tossing her hair around like a wildcat.

Darcy had fallen into conversation with a man who had been on the table behind theirs. He’d rather boldly tapped her on the shoulder as soon as they were ‘released’ from dinner – Nils had gone off to see whether his bid had won – and now she was slightly trapped. The man was a television producer, in his mid-forties, and as an attempt to keep her with him, he was trying to formulate a pitch on the fly for a series around the Old Masters. ‘It’s about making it...relevant and...and alive,’ he kept insisting, very much the worse for wear. ‘And who better than someone who looks likeyou?’

‘It’s not really about what I look like, though, is it,’ she said. ‘It’s about reaching an audience who thinks fine art is only for the rich and showing them that there can be—’

She didn’t get to finish her point. Someone behind her companion went to move past him and he startled, far too focused on her and nothing else in the room. Darcy watched as half a glass of merlot leapt from his crystal glass, flying through the air in a slow-motion arc, before landing in a long splatter down the front of her dress.

There was a horrified moment of silence as even the drunk man recognized the calamity of what he’d done.

‘Oh—’ he began as Darcy instinctively stepped back, her arms held out as she looked down at the ruined gown. She froze, unable even to breathe. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said as she backed away. What had she done? What had she done? ‘Let me—’

He reached for the water jug on the table, but she had already turned and was pushing through the crowd. People parted for her, reading her panic, some of them seeing the source of her distress, others looking on in bewilderment as she clamoured to get out of the room.

She felt herself released from the throng and ran down the hallway, looking for the restrooms.

‘Oh, my dear!’ an older lady in pearls said as she passed, understanding immediately. ‘Down there, on the right.’ She pointed the way and Darcy burst in to the ladies’ room, having to weave her way around a gaggle of women who were heading out.

‘Oh no! Her beautiful dress!’ she heard one of them say behind her.

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