Page 176 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4
That truth propelled her through the day. Through issues that cropped up that she had to problem-solve. Then up to her room to get ready for the ball itself. She half expected to find Diego here, but he wasn’t.
Still, she stopped short because laid out on the bed was a dress of dark red, certainly not hers. She moved toward it, wondering if a staff member had somehow gotten confused and put a guest’s dress in her room.
But there was a note laid across the dress. In slashing script she recognized as Diego’s handwriting, it said:Merry Christmas.
She couldn’t even imagine how much it had cost. She supposed that wasn’t the point. Considering she handled much of Diego’s businesses in some capacity, she knew he could afford it.
That he’dthoughtof it was the point. A gesture that showed he paid attention and had considered this night at least long enough ago to have the dress purchased in advance.
She wished he’d had the courage to give it to her himself, be here to handle her appreciation, but she saw this as progress. As a step toward a future where they were both a little stronger.
He’d started at the bottom of a deep pit of self-loathing and survivor’s guilt. She could hardly expect him to jump out of it quickly and easily. Healing required time.
But steps were encouraging.
She smiled, trailing a finger over the velvety fabric, then set about getting ready as she listened to Christmas carols. Once finished, she surveyed herself in the mirror, impressed with the results.
Feeling like some kind of joyous Christmas fairy, she went in search of Diego, hoping to find him before she needed to be in the ballroom.
He wasn’t in his room, or anywhere in their personal wing of the castello, so she went down the staircase, only to find him waiting at the bottom. He was dressed in a dark suit, dark shirt underneath. He would not have looked at all festive, instead more like an angel of death, but he had worn the tie she’d set out for him.
It had been his father’s. It was a deep green that almost looked black when surrounded by so much of it, but there were little sprigs of lighter green and dark red holly embroidered all over it. A little Christmas pizazz.
For a moment, Amelia didn’t move down the stairs. She just stood at the top, looking at him. That tie felt like a sign. Just like the dress. Just like last night.
She couldn’t fight all the hope inside her. Hewaschanging and opening up. How could she think he’d reject love when he had taken all these steps?
He was staying for the ball, and he was wearing his father’s Christmas-themed tie. He had smiled at her story about Aurora last night. These were all steps back into the light, and maybe it was conceited to think she was part of it, but he smiled up at her, there at the top of the stairs.
Because there was somethinghere, and they only needed the chance to build from it. She took the stairs down to him.
“You are stunning,tesoro.”
“Thank you for the dress,” she said as she reached the bottom. “It’s certainly perfect for the occasion.”
He took her hand, brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “As are you. The person responsible for such a night should certainly look it.”
She beamed at him, then reached out and straightened his tie, which didn’t need straightening. She looked up at his face, wondering if he did not remember that it had been his father’s. He’d avoided the Christmas Ball for most of his adult life.
He tucked her arm into his, not mentioning anything about the tie. She would bring it up later. First, they had to face their guests.
While some were odious like that Longo woman who had been disparaging Aurora last night—and who would be forever removed from the guest list thereafter—many were kind, enjoyed both the atmosphere and remembering their old friends they’d lost too soon.
As the ballroom filled with these people, she and Diego mingled. They danced, close enough for people to whisper. Amelia didn’t concern herself with it. If they were scandalized by the age difference, by Diego being her boss, bywhatever, she didn’t care.
This was right and real. So she enjoyed herself. She didn’t worry when a guest spilled red wine on the expensive antique rug. She didn’t fuss over a couple getting into an argument, simply escorted the woman away while Diego escorted the man, and calmed them down. She took each hiccup as it came, dealt with it and moved on.
Because she knew how to plan an event, make it sing. And come the new year, that’s what she’d do. She’d help Diego find a new assistant—while encouraging him to take back some of his own responsibilities—and she would focus on events. Either at the castello if Diego approved, or somewhere else if he did not.
As for their relationship…that left a pit of nerves and fear in her stomach. If he returned her expression of love, then… Then they could move forward as they had been. She’d liked these past few weeks.
If he didn’t… Well, she wasn’t ready to consider that.Thatshe would deal with as it came.
The guests began to slowly trickle away, calling it a night, thanking Amelia in many different ways. A few brought tears to her eyes when they said she had thrown as good of an event as the former hostess, and how much that had meant to them.
Yes, tonight had been healing for many. Once the last guest had filtered away, Amelia sat herself on the chaise longue, not having the energy to go upstairs just yet. She slipped off her shoes and sighed at the relief from the heels.
The room glittered, and Diego stood over by the bar, nursing a drink. Amelia could not read his expression, but something like a portent fizzled over her skin.
