AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Of all the challenges that their friendship might have brought, the one thing Alix hadn’t expected was that her closest friend would marry a man she didn’t like.
Alix frowned. No, it wasn’t that she didn’t like Seb. More that she didn’t trust him. She’d known him vaguely before Christy had met him. He’d frequented the same fashionable bar that she often went to after work, where the crowd was the usual predictable mix of City workers. They’d never been interested in each other, but she’d been aware of his reputation with women, so when he and Christy had attracted each other like magnets, the first time they’d met, she’d been concerned. Concern had turned to alarm when Christy had announced that she was pregnant and intended to marry him.
What should have been a fun, casual evening had turned into forever.
But, if rumor was correct, Seb Sullivan didn’t do forever.
She’d felt guilty, and more than a little responsible, because Christy would never have met Seb if it hadn’t been for Alix. She’d done everything she could to talk her friend out of it, which hadn’t exactly endeared her to Seb or to Christy—or to the best man, although that was a whole other story. But at the time that hadn’t mattered. She’d been trying to save her friend from making a terrible mistake. What was friendship if it wasn’t looking out for someone you loved? Being straight about the things that mattered? Christy’s happiness mattered to her, but Christy had decided that happiness had meant marrying Seb.
Fortunately that little blip hadn’t damaged their friendship, and Alix knew that nothing ever would. Their bond was unbreakable. A difference of opinion wasn’t going to change that.
And Alix had to admit that so far the marriage seemed to be working out. Seb was a good father and, as far as anyone could tell, was good to Christy. Still, Alix had been surprised when Christy had announced that they were moving to a cottage in a small village. She hadn’t been able to imagine Seb spending his weekends going on muddy walks, or enjoying a pint in the local pub. But apparently she’d misjudged him, because they’d been in the cottage for eighteen months and everything seemed to be going well.
Alix had never been happier to be wrong about something in her life.
Behind her hung the dress she’d bought that afternoon in a half-hour break between meetings. It was silver, high at the neck, fitted from the waist down. Not black. Not businesslike. But she had to admit that she loved it. It was even a little festive—and if you couldn’t sparkle in Manhattan in December, then when could you?
Sure that Christy would approve, she slid on the dress.
On impulse, she snapped a selfie and sent it to Christy with a message.
Followed your advice. New dress. I’m going to look like something that fell off a Christmas tree.
She picked up her purse, took one last glance at herself and headed out of the room.
She didn’t care much about the dinner, or the ceremony, but she was looking forward to seeing other members of her team. She never forgot that this was a team effort, and she worked with good people.
Lonely? No way.
She was sliding into the car that had been booked for her when she realized Christy hadn’t replied. But with the five-hour time difference that probably wasn’t surprising. Her friend was probably already deeply asleep.
Remembering their conversation the day before, she squashed down a flicker of concern. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been wrong, but if that was the case then Christy would have told her. They had no secrets.
She leaned back in her seat, enjoying the moment. Manhattan during the day was fun, interesting and exciting, but at night it was spectacular.
She didn’t quite understand why, but every time she landed in this city she felt as if she’d made it. She’d survived her ice-cold, refrigerated childhood and built a life for herself. No one knew what lay behind her. No one cared.
Her phone beeped and she checked it, expecting it to be Christy, and saw a message from her mother.
Won’t be back in London for Christmas, but money wired to your account. Fiona.
Alix stared at the message and then rolled her eyes. Hi, darling, have a great Christmas, love Mum. Fat chance.
She imagined her mother’s assistant tentatively putting her head round the door of Fiona’s chaotic office. A reminder to send a gift to your daughter, Professor Carpenter.
Her mother would have been irritated by the interruption.
She was relieved and a little proud that she felt nothing. There had been a time when a message like that would have punched a hole through her heart, but she was made of tougher stuff now. She’d worked hard to achieve this level of emotional control. Feelings—strong feelings—were inconvenient at best, painful at worst, and she made a point of avoiding them. It made life so much easier, so much smoother, that frankly she didn’t understand why more people didn’t do it.
Only last week she’d had to support her assistant through an emotional crisis when her boyfriend had ended their relationship. Alix had handed her a tissue, given her the rest of the day off and refrained from pointing out that if she just stayed single nothing like this would ever happen again.
“We’re here, Ms. Carpenter.” The car purred to a halt outside one of New York’s finest hotels, and a uniformed doorman stepped forward to open the door.
Alix pushed a ten-dollar bill into his hand and walked into the marble foyer.
A huge Christmas tree reached upwards, a stylish pyramid of silver and sparkle. Alix found herself thinking of the decorations Holly liked to hang on the tree. A misshapen reindeer she’d baked in the oven. A silver star with uneven points. In her opinion they held more appeal than the glittering symmetry of the ornaments adorning this tree.
She was going to have a brilliant family Christmas—just not with her own family.
