Page 36 of The Naughty Or Nice Clause

Taken aback, she said, “I had to send an email the other day, and your mum said it wasn’t an issue. I didn’t go in without asking. I thought you could use the desk to work so you could spend more time with your family instead of going to the workshop.”

He was too busy staring at the clean desk to look at her. “You had permission to send an email, not to rearrange his desk! This was his life!”

She hadn’t expected him to be so upset. Though she knew it was his grief speaking, hurt overwhelmed her. She hadn’t meant to overstep, but then she thought of how she would have felt if someone had gone into her mum’s paints without permission. She cursed herself for getting carried away.

“I’m sorry. I promise everything is organised in the drawers – I didn’t throw anything out. I thought I was doing something nice to thank you for the clothes and saving my life,” she explained.

His features creased as he looked through the papers organised on the desk, before rifling through the drawers frantically. “Where is the List?” he demanded, coming towards her, and she took a step back.

“What list?” she asked, trying to remain calm. Even in anger, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

“THE List,” he snarled. “It was on the desk. I put it there myself for Mum to look over. We can’t have Christmas without the List. You have no idea what you’ve done!”

Lyla remembered the scroll with the names; he was talking about the naughty or nice list. Ignoring his glare, she pushed past him to climb the ladder where all the scrolls were placed. She found the new space she’d created for the next decade and grabbed the scroll, thrusting it into his hands once they were face to face again.

“Your damn list!” she snapped, though tears were threatening to spill over.

His eyes were on her hand. “Where is your ring?” he demanded.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“The ring I gave you. Where is it?” He grasped her hand in his, but she snatched it back.

“You don’t have it?” she asked, covering her hand with the other.

“Why would I haveyourring?”

Her stomach dropped. “I took it off during the competition. I thought someone might have found it and returned it!”

“You left a family heirloom in a dish?” he seethed.

“I didn’t mean to lose it! It was in a small dish beside the oven. I can get it back!” she babbled, but he wouldn’t meet her eye. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry about the ring, and about moving the list. I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t. You never think,” he said coldly.

She didn’t know what to say. She had meant to do a good thing, and instead she only widened the distance between them.

When she didn’t move, he went on. “You think you can do whatever you want, whenever you want. I thought you’d learnt from the office fire that there are consequences for your actions. This was my father’s space, and if I wanted to use it I would have. Leave before I say something I’ll regret!”

“I know you’re grieving, but when you calm down, you’ll regret your words,” she choked out, and ran out of the office, not wanting to look at him.

Desperate to get away from him, she fled to the only sanctuary she could think of – her bedroom. She walked as fast as she could, afraid she would be stopped by Mrs Klaus or Kevin. If she could close the door behind her for a minute and bury her face in Jones’s fur, she could at least pretend that she wasn’t here.

She stumbled into the room, but Jones’s chair was empty. Horror swept through her.The office door! I left it open when I ran out.

“Jones!” she called desperately, knowing he would never come. He was a cat. She dashed to look over the bannisters and found the front door wide open, and Kevin carrying in logs for the fireplaces.

“Kevin! The door! Did you see Jones?” she gasped. Kevin looked confused as he took off his headphones, and then turned pale when they both registered the paw prints in the snow alongside his.

“Sorry – I didn’t realise he was out of your room. I was coming in and out, so I left the door open,” he said, dropping the logs. Lyla was already hurrying down the stairs. “You can’t go out there alone – wait here! I’ll go get Mason!”

She didn’t answer that; the last thing she wanted was another scolding. She pulled on her shoes and jacket and ran past Kevin and out of the house.

“Damn it, Jones!” she hissed, moving as fast as she could in ankle-deep snow after the prints. Before she knew it, she could no longer see the road or where she was headed in the thick woods behind the house. Shrouded in darkness, all she could see was a few feet ahead. The lack of light forced her to bend over in order to make out the small paw prints.

“Jones!” she called into the darkness, zipping up her jacket against the increasing wind. She couldn’t think of returning, or the fear of the cold.

The paw prints came to an end as she reached what looked like a hollow trunk.

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