Page 31 of All I Want for Christmas

He shook his head. ‘It’s more than my job’s worth. I gave my word.’

She looked away with a sigh. ‘Sure.’

From outside the room there came a sound of more creaks, drawing closer now. Someone was coming down the stairs. Darcy’s eyes slid over to him, asking the question ‘who?’ but he turned away again, focusing on his coffee.

‘Baby, I thought you said—’ A striking brunette stopped in the doorway. She was tall and thin, a model without doubt,wearing leggings and a grey cashmere jumper with micro-Uggs. ‘Oh. Hey.’

‘Hi,’ Darcy gave a stricken smile, holding her hand up in a feeble wave. ‘I’m Darcy.’

‘Angelina.’ But as she said the word, her eyes slid in a question mark towards Max. Darcy’s too. She was sure that wasn’t the name she’d heard him say on the phone, on the steps, the other night.

‘Darcy’s a colleague. She’s working at the gallery for the next few weeks,’ he explained.

‘You’re a curator?’ Angelina asked.

‘PhD student at the Royal Academy, actually, but I’ve been put onto a special project here.’

‘Is this about that painting you were talking about?’ Angelina asked, walking – stalking – over to Max and looping her arms around his shoulders. Standing at five foot eleven, she was barely an inch shorter than him and she sank onto one hip, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

‘Yes.’

‘He’s been so excited,’ she drawled in a sardonic tone, looking back at Darcy, who was standing frozen, clutching her mug. ‘Like a little boy.’

‘I hardly think so,’ Max said, extricating himself from her languid embrace and checking his phone. ‘It’s simply very relevant for the Foundation.’ He looked up and slid his phone into his back pocket, regarding the two women for a moment. Darcy looked down, knowing that even at her best, in black velvet with a blow-dry, she couldn’t come out of any comparison with Angelina favourably.

‘I’m really sorry to interrupt your weekend like this,’ she said, motioning vaguely to the boxes. ‘But if there’s a quiet room where I can go to work, at least I can get out of your way.’

‘That isn’t necessary,’ Max said.

‘I’d feel better if I wasn’t in your way here.’

‘You won’t be. We’re going out now.’

‘Oh.’

‘Socks.’ Angelina slapped her forehead with her hand and pointed to his bare feet. ‘I forgot to bring down your socks. I knew there was something. I have a mind like a sieve.’

Darcy smiled wanly.Nowthe bare feet made sense. She had interrupted them.

‘Nice to meet you –’

From the way her voice angled up at the end, Darcy knew she had intended to use her name but had forgotten it. ‘Yes. Nice to meet you too, Angelina.’

She didn’t stir as the other woman drifted from the room like a fairy, and the silence that grew in her wake felt heavy with unspoken words.

‘You look concerned,’ Max said, watching as she bit her lip.

‘Aren’t you?’

‘About what?’

‘Are you really comfortable with leaving me alone in your house?’

‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

‘You don’t know me.’

‘Don’t I?’ A beat passed at the question, the sound of the floorboard creaking upstairs reminding them they weren’t alone. A small smile played on his lips. ‘Darcy, relax. I have an instinct I’m not going to come back to graffiti on the walls and the fittings stripped out.’

---