“No, it’s great.” She beamed at him. “I’m really pleased. I’m just surprised — I didn’t have you down as the retail type, that’s all.”
“I’m not, normally,” he said. “But a pay check is a pay check, right?”
“Right! So are you on the store floor?” Merry asked. “Sales? Are you in tomorrow? I can show you the ropes if you like. There’s not much to it, just smile and be polite. And, you know, don’t headbutt the customers.”
He laughed, and Merry would have too if she hadn’t been so desperate for the toilet. She squirmed, wishing her bladder was a little bigger so she didn’t have to run.
“But seriously,” she said, “it’s easier when somebody helps you out. My first few days here I was a mess, until one of the girls from Perfume took me under her wing. Her name’s Alice, not that you need to know that.”
Stop wittering!
“That’s really kind of you,” he said. “But I’m not on the shop floor.”
“Marketing?” she asked. “No, management. I guess a guy like you tends to run things. Are you my new boss?” She laughed nervously.
Christian popped his lips, fixing her with those perfect brown eyes. “I’m actually working with the cleaning team.”
“You’re ajanitor?” The words exploded from her mouth a little louder than she’d intended. She saw the moment his face fell, and she instantly regretted her tone. “Cool. Really, it’s cool. I can’t tell you what a sty this place would be without you guys. We’d be wading in our own filth. Cleaners make the world go round, if you ask me. You guys are really . . . cool.”
Stop talking!she screamed at herself, mentally buttoning her mouth shut. She’d reached a crisis point — if she didn’t excuse herself in the next ten seconds then Christian’s first job was going to be mopping up the puddle she was about to make.
“Thanks,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she lied. “Sure. I mean, kind of. Look, I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”
He stood to one side and she practically ran past him. Brilliant. Just brilliant. That really couldn’t have gone any worse. The one guy she wouldn’t mind impressing and she was running away from him, all because she’d had one too many mochas on her last break. She stopped, catching the door before it could close. Christian stood there, a puzzled look on his face as she waved goodbye.
She peed and then changed quickly, hurrying out of the store. The cold air hit her cheeks, fresh and sharp after the overheated crush of the shop. She tugged her coat more tightly around herself and set off down Fifth Avenue, her boots tapping against the pavement.
The street was still busy, glittering with Christmas lights, and for the first time all day she felt herself relax. Her shift was over. No more fake smiles, no more dodging grabby customers. Just her, the city and the promise of the best hot chocolate in Manhattan waiting a few blocks away.
She wasn’t ready to head back to her apartment yet. The thought of the damp creeping up the walls, the rattling pipes and her roommate’s endless, tinny reality shows — or, worse, her endless sex noises blaring through the paper-thin walls — made her slow her steps even more.
She wandered along, her breath misting in front of her, and somewhere between the storefronts and the swirling snowflakes her mind drifted right back to Christian. Merry hugged herself more closely, blaming the chill when really it was heat curling low in her belly. It had been a long time since someone had made her feel that kind of spark. A long time since she’d even wanted to feel it.
She caught her reflection in a shop window — pink-cheeked, grinning like an idiot — and rolled her eyes at herself.
Get a grip, Merry. He’s engaged, remember?
Still, for a few more steps, she let herself imagine a different ending to tonight. One where she wasn’t walking alone. One where she wasn’t heading back to a cold apartment and a roommate with no volume control. One where she could be making her own loud sex noises for a change.
By the time she pushed open the door to the hot-chocolate shop, she barely noticed the blast of heat that hit her. She was already warm from the inside out, running on a daydream-fuelled glow that not even the winter wind could touch.
Chapter 4
CHRISTIAN
Christian sat alone in the staff room with the manila folder open on his lap, the company logo embossed in gold on the cover. He hadn’t slept since arriving in New York. Jetlag still clung to his bones like a wet coat, but it was the contents of the folder that was weighing him down now.
He flipped through page after page of financials, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Carroll’s used to be an empire, his father’s pride and joy, but the numbers told a different story now. Revenue was falling fast, costs were ballooning, and profit margins looked like they were a distant memory. There were strange outflows to consulting firms he’d never heard of, plus a supplier that seemed to be billing double what they used to for basic goods. His father hadn’t been exaggerating — the red line was steeper than a ski slope. The business was in serious trouble.
As he stared at the numbers, trying to focus, his mind kept slipping sideways. Back to the girl in the Santa hat. Merry. Christian shook his head and tried again to focus on the spreadsheet in front of him, but the words blurred together. What the hell was wrong with him? He hadn’t come here for distractions. He now had a mess to unravel and his family company to save. And yet, Merry’s gorgeous face kept floating to the front of his mind, disrupting every attempt to concentrate.
Christian scrubbed a hand over his own face. The room felt like it was shrinking and every breath he took reminded him he was back in the city he’d run from. He leaned back in the rickety staff chair and sighed. What he needed was clarity. Or coffee. Or possibly a brain transplant.
Instead, he pulled out his phone and opened the APEX group chat, the only place on earth where he could admit defeat without being judged.
The APEX Club had started as a business incubator, a think tank for billionaires who didn’t quite fit the mould. Over the years, the people at its core had become something more. They were friends and battle-tested survivors of deals, disasters and the kind of heartbreak that money couldn’t fix. The WhatsApp group had long since evolved into a lifeline and occasional outlet to troll one another.
