Page 23 of What Happens This Christmas
Eloise laughed, a smile reaching the corners of her eyes. It was such a bright smile that it could have easily lit up the house if it wasn’t already well-lit. “You two look so perfect together. Absolutely breathtaking,” she exclaimed, a squeal rising in the back of her throat as she walked past me and ran a hand down my arm.
Her hand was inexplicably cold, sending a chill down my body with the simple touch. “Thank you,” was about all I could manage because I didn’t know what else to say. Actually, maybe I did…She should enjoy the photos from today because they might be the last ones she’ll ever have of us together as a breathtaking couple.
“I’m going to go ice skating and get out of your hair.” She pointed to me and narrowed her eyes, pouting. “You’re sure you don’t want to skip these boring photos and join me? You, me, and your hubs. We can all fall on our asses together.” She turned to Nick and waited, as if he’d drop me and these photos he knew meant the world to me to skate on frozen water.
As I expected, Nick stayed out of it, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a drink. I knew for him the complexity and depth of flavor in that glass was far more intriguing than any conversation. My husband was a whiskey connoisseur and drank with the ease and passion of one.
I couldn’t think of a worse fate than looking stupid, which was exactly what would happen if Nick and I went ice skating. Neither of us knew how to. “As appealing as that sounds,we’ll have to sit this one out.” On account that I had other things to tend to, such as a scheduled photography session with a well-respected fine art photographer who had been taking our Christmas card photos since our first Christmas as a married couple. Over the years, things had changed, but our photographer had not.
“Hmm,” Eloise responded noisily. “If you say so.”
I did. Say so, that was. “You won’t be wearing that, will you?” I questioned, sincerely hoping she would be changing before she walked out of here and in public. The buttocks of her pants hadbite mescrawled across it in rhinestones. Rhinestones that I was sure were barely hanging on and would fall off with a few washes. You got what you paid for, I supposed.
Nick made strides toward the piano, sitting at it. He swirled the amber liquid around in his glass, observing but remaining stoic, quiet, as was his way.
“Yes!” Eloise shouted with enough enthusiasm that I was sure people in Paris could hear her. “But you’re not getting the full effect because I’m not wearing the matching jacket.” She brushed me off with a flick of her wrist and rolled her lips. “It’s a whole look, I assure you.”
That was what I was afraid of. “Interesting.”
“That gives me an idea,” she said far too cheerfully for my liking. In fact, it actually concerned me. “We should go shopping,” she blurted out without giving it a second thought.
More time with Eloise… I guessed I could think of worse ways to spend a day. If I strained myself and tried very hard.
“That sounds…like a good idea.” I’d have to initiate this little shopping trip, otherwise who knew where she’d take me. So, now I had another thing to plan.Great.
She waved dramatically at Nick, all of her fingers moving up and down in the gesture. “Ta-ta! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two.”
When she was out of the room, Nick set the glass on the top of the piano and sat manspread, leaning forward. “Are you going to answer my question?” he asked coolly.
“Hmm?”
Sighing, he repeated, “What’s this piano doing here, Candy?”
Running my freshly manicured hands down the sides of the burgundy Italian taffeta and velvet cocktail dress I was wearing, I licked my lips and went on to explain. “The piano is an early Christmas present, Nick,” I finally answered calmly. “Merry Christmas, darling.”
“Darling?” He cocked a brow. “A present for who?”
“My lover. He’s an immensely talented pianist, and when he comes over for us to have our scheduled rendezvous while you’re away, I always feel sad he has to abandon his extraordinary gift even for a moment.” I refrained from rolling my eyes. What was with the silly questions today? “You. It’s for you,” I answered more seriously. “Who else would it be for?”
“Someone who plays the piano.” He grinned. “Or someone who isn’t leaving you in January.”
Was it really necessary to remind me on a day we were set to look like a happy, prosperous couple? As if I didn’t know to begin with. “This has been planned for some time. Besides, just because we’re separating doesn’t mean I can’t gift you something nice.”
An arrogance below the surface had his lips tilting in a smug expression. “What’s this really about, Candy? Does someone we know have an instrument that’s taking up space in their house for no other reason than to collect dust, such that you suddenly feel so moved to have one yourself?”
“Irina.” I lifted my chin in a dignified manner. So what if she had one first? “This one is bigger, though, and more luxurious.”
“Naturally.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I never knew you to enjoy pissing contests so much.”
Aghast that he’d speak to me that way, I narrowed my gaze. “How dare you?”
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “So, all that crap about this being for me was a lie. Tell me, Candy, when did you get so comfortable telling lies?”
My nostrils flared as I tried my best to control my anger. I could hardly believe Nick was saying these things to me. “I am not a liar, and I take umbrage to the accusation.” The nerve of him.
