Page 24 of Christmas All the Way

‘I understand,’ Grace said, as her cheeks grew slightly warm at the condescending tone. ‘We don’t have anything like that out on display but there might be some in the stockroom. Would you like me to check for you?’

The customer glanced at her phone. ‘How long will that take?’

Grace dusted her hands on her jeans. ‘I’ll probably be a few minutes. I can meet you by the tills if you’re in a hurry.’

‘I suppose I’ll have to,’ the woman huffed.

‘Great,’ Grace said. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

The stockrooms were organised by colour and theme, and packed to the rafters. Grace hesitated in the doorway, eyeing with trepidation crate after crate on the rows of tall metal shelves. Perhaps she should ask Misha for help, relieve her on the tills to allow the more experienced employee to find what the customer wanted. Grace was sure she’d seen some pink feathers while collecting stock a few days earlier, although she couldn’t be sure of the exact shade. But where in this Aladdin’s cave of wonders would they be? ‘Think, Grace,’ she muttered under her breath, squeezing her eyes shut. ‘What else did you collect?’

There had been ribbon, she recalled – the blue and green peacock pattern as well as a box of thinner, silvery white rolls. Opening her eyes, she moved towards the nearest shelf, where several boxes at eye level sat under a sign stating NUTCRACKER: White. Grace kept going, passing boxes marked red, gold, green, blue. Her gaze travelled up to the higher shelves – had she needed the stepladder to reach what she needed? Yes, she thought she had. Retracing her steps, she collected the rolling ladder and pulled it over to the shelves. Ensuring it was securely locked in place, she climbed a few tentative steps. Misha had told her they weren’t supposed to use the ladders alone, in case of accidents, but she didn’t think it would matter. All she needed to do was check the boxes on the top shelves. She was steady on her feet and her shoes were flat. She’d be up and down in less than a minute. Never mind that the top step of the ladder seemed much higher than it had been when Misha had been reassuringly gripping the base, or that Grace had to stretch up on tiptoes in order to lift the flaps of the boxes. Taking a steadying breath, she tilted the open box towards her and peered inside. Damn. Ribbon, but not the colours she’d found before. She reached for the next box, twisting slightly to grip the edges and slide it open. More ribbon. Squinting along the shelf at the neighbouring boxes, she saw one that bore the word FEATHERS.

‘There you are,’ she murmured, carefully clambering down and rolling the ladder along. Conscious of the waiting customer, she climbed up again and explored the contents of the box. The top packets of cellophane contained white feathers of varying lengths and fluffiness. Digging underneath, Grace found a rainbow of other colours. She sifted through the packets, searching for pink and finding what she was looking for at the very bottom. The feathers inside the wrapper were more a baby pink than hot, and she was not convinced they’d ever been anywhere near an ostrich, but they were soft and fluffy and the closest she was going to get. Clutching all four packets, she began her descent.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

The furious male voice made Grace squeal in shock and sent the slippery plastic sleeves slithering from her grasp. The ladder wobbled violently as she made a grab for the metal shelving to steady herself. Snapping her head round, she saw a sight that made her heart plummet. Standing in the doorway of the stockroom was Raff, and he had a face like thunder. ‘You scared me!’ she exclaimed, willing her heart to stop hammering.

Raff strode forwards. ‘You shouldn’t be using ladders in here unsupervised. It’s not safe.’

Now that the ladder had stopped wobbling, Grace felt a surge of indignation. ‘I was perfectly fine until you shouted at me.’

He bent to gather the bags of fallen feathers. It appeared one had split upon impact, because a cascade of pink billowed across the floor. ‘You’re not allowed to use the ladders alone,’ he insisted. ‘Didn’t anyone explain that to you?’

Feeling slightly ridiculous peering down at him from above, Grace resumed her careful descent. ‘Yes, they did. But a customer was waiting and I thought—’

‘You thought the rules didn’t apply to you,’ Raff cut in, his glower darkening still further.

‘No,’ Grace protested, stung. ‘I just wanted—’

She gave a little cry as her foot missed the next step. For a nanosecond, it seemed as though she hung suspended in air, but then she was tumbling backwards. Instinctively, she shut her eyes and braced for the collision with the hard concrete floor. Miraculously, it did not come. Instead, a pair of strong hands caught her and she found herself colliding with something altogether softer. The impact still jarred the breath from her lungs, causing her to gasp. Her eyes snapped open and she spun round to find Raff’s finely chiselled features glaring down at her. She stared at him for several seconds, as her reeling senses bombarded her with unhelpful observations about the warmth of his chest, the woodiness of his aftershave and the fascinating gold flecks that shimmered amid the green of his eyes. ‘Oh!’ she squeaked, and thrust herself backwards in mortified horror.

‘Stand still, you fool,’ he demanded as her foot rattled against metal. ‘You’re going to trip over the ladder.’

Fighting to regain both her balance and her dignity, Grace returned his glare. ‘I am not.’

They stood glowering at each other, then Grace recalled where she was and who she was speaking to. Her anger dissipated a little as she unfolded her arms. ‘You shouldn’t have shouted,’ she said, the words heavy with reproach. ‘I knew exactly what I was doing.’

To his credit, he looked briefly regretful before his bullishness took hold once more. ‘If you hadn’t been breaking the rules, I wouldn’t have had to.’

She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. Really, what could she say? She had ignored the rules by climbing the ladder on her own, and it had almost ended in disaster, although she thought Raff should take at least half the blame for that. Sighing, she rubbed the tops of her arms, wondering if she would have bruises where he had caught her. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

The apology seemed to catch him off guard. ‘Oh,’ he said, looking momentarily nonplussed. Clearing his throat, he thrust the packets towards her. ‘No harm done, I suppose.’

There were feathers all over the floor, and more stuck to the bottom of his jeans. One had managed to float up to attach itself to his T-shirt, vibrant against the navy blue cotton. Grace had to clench her fingers against the sudden urge to pluck it away. ‘Thank you for – for breaking my fall,’ she said.

Raff glanced away as though her gratitude made him uncomfortable. ‘No problem. But please don’t do it again. My mother takes the health and safety of everyone very seriously. The rules are here to protect you.’

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Grace was beginning to feel more than a little stupid. ‘Yes, of course. I’m sorry.’

He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. ‘As I said, no harm done.’ His gaze slid to the feathers she held. ‘Did you mention a customer?’

‘Yes!’ she exclaimed, feeling even more idiotic. ‘She’ll be wondering where I’ve got to. But I should clear up this mess.’

Raff shook his head. ‘It will still be here when you’ve delivered those.’

‘Good point,’ Grace said, and moved towards the door. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes, with a dustpan and brush.’