Xander knocked on Christophe’s open front door and called a greeting as he stepped into the cool interior. Voices rising and falling in conversation emanated from the kitchen, along with a clatter of pans. Xander’s nose detected the rich smell of roasting turkey before Chris poked his head around the corner.
‘Xander, glad you made it. Joyeux Noël, mon ami.’ He grinned and ambled down the hall, wiping his hands on a tea towel. Extending one hand, he wrapped the other around Xander’s back and thumped him in a very Aussie man-hug.
Glad that Chris didn’t feel the need to kiss him on both cheeks as he did to other friends, Xander eased out of the hug. ‘Same to you. Here.’ He held out a bottle of Grange, aware it was too much for a simple Christmas gift.
Chris looked at the label and held the bottle up to the light falling through the window beside them. ‘Thank you. You shouldn’t have, but I will enjoy every drop.’
‘I wanted to say thanks for hiring Flick. I should have said it weeks ago, but mate, I’m grateful.’
‘She has become important to you. I see a different man standing before me today to the one who had no idea how to relax and enjoy living in paradise.’
‘That’s true. And I hope you won’t mind if I steal her away from your restaurant.’
Chris frowned and half-turned towards the kitchen. ‘Steal her … what are you planning? Tell me while I check on my sauce.’
‘I’ll tell you later, after I’ve talked with Flick. You didn’t think you were going to keep her forever, did you?’
‘Perhaps I did.’ Chris led the way into the kitchen and set the bottle of wine in a corner away from the work area. He picked up a wooden spoon, but turned to ask, ‘Er, why doesn’t Flick know about your plans if they’re as big as they sound?’
‘She will soon, but things only fell into place last night.’ His hand touched the breast pocket of his shirt where a red envelope held Flick’s Christmas present. One of them at least. The other present was wrapped in dove-grey tissue paper with a silver bow. ‘Do you have a Christmas tree?’
‘Of course. It’s in the family room.’
‘Do you mind if I put Flick’s present under the tree? I was going to give it to her before we came, but we—ran out of time.’ In the best possible way. Waking with Flick spooned against him was the best Christmas morning ever. In a euphoric daze, he’d almost forgotten to collect her gift from beneath their Christmas tree as they were leaving.
A grin pulled up one side of Chris’s mouth. ‘Hmm, never known you to run late, except for the day thieves stole your car. I think Flick is a bad influence on you—in the best possible way.’
‘I think you’re right.’ He didn’t try to stop the grin that spread across his face. Today was shaping up to be the best Christmas ever.
‘There’s wine and beer in eskies. Help yourself. What time is Flick arriving?’
‘She’s out in the car talking to her father. He rang just as we pulled up outside. Can I get you a drink?’
‘I’ve got one. Go and get a beer for yourself. I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.’
After Xander set Flick’s present beneath the Christmas tree, he went through the sliding glass doors onto the covered patio. The heat of the day was less intense here, but a beer would go down well. Two eskies stood side by side in the corner. Small rings of water puddled beside one, about the size of a beer bottle. He tipped up the lid and helped himself to a bottle of light beer.
As he twisted the top off the bottle he spotted Joe and strolled over to join the farmer and Marta, Eve’s relief events co-ordinator at the resort. ‘Joe, Marta, season’s greetings.’
Undercurrents swirled between them. Marta stood rigidly at Joe’s side, but Joe shook his hand. ‘I thought Flick would be with you?’
Marta smiled, a brittle-edged socially-polite smile with a dash of dislike Xander didn’t understand.
His internal radar detected negative vibes pulsing between Joe and Marta. Was Marta’s apparent dislike simply spill-over because he’d interrupted an argument? ‘She’ll be along soon; she’s taking a call from her father.’
Wondering if he should give Joe and Marta space to sort out whatever was bothering them, he looked back towards the house.
Flick stepped through the sliding glass doors and looked around the small group of Chris’s Christmas orphans. Xander waved.
She made her way across to him and kissed him on the lips. It still delighted him that she had finally become comfortable with publicly acknowledging their relationship. Stolen kisses were all very well, but not touching her, not even holding her hand when others were around, had been killing him.
‘Everything okay at home?’
‘Fine.’ A quaver in her voice, a break in the single syllable, a sniff.
He looked more closely.
Her eyes were slightly red-rimmed and his stomach dropped at the evidence of her sadness. Wanting to wrap her in his arms and kiss away her hurt, he reached for her before realising that social niceties demanded he introduce her, if she hadn’t already met Joe and Marta. He slung an arm casually over her shoulder. ‘You know Flick?’
Joe greeted her warmly. Marta’s greeting was less enthusiastic. She moved slightly forward, putting herself between Flick and Joe. Xander could almost see the cat claws unsheathing before Chris appeared with a tray of hors d’oeuvres, and asked Joe to pass them around.
Relieved to escape from the thick tension zapping between the couple, Xander took Flick’s hand and they wandered out into the large garden.
‘That felt uncomfortable.’ Flick wound the chain strap of her small handbag around one finger.
‘Something’s going on with them. Hope they sort it out and don’t let it spill over into Chris’s lunch. Are you okay? You seemed a bit—’ He stopped as he caught sight of movement beside him. Turning, it took him a moment to switch back into party mode. ‘Hi, Kiet.’
‘Happy Christmas.’ The oyster farmer raised his bottle, tapping it against Xander’s. ‘I didn’t expect to see you at an orphans’ Christmas party. Don’t you usually spend the holidays with your parents and sister?’
‘Yeah, but Jenny was up for a visit just last month. She’s doing so much better that Mum and Dad decided to take her down to Phillip Island to see the penguins as a special treat. So it’s just me and—’ He pulled Flick close to his side. ‘Kiet—have you met Flick?’
‘We met when Kiet delivered some of the best oysters I’ve seen outside of Sydney. Nice to see you again.’ She extended a hand and Kiet shook it.
‘Yeah, likewise.’ Kiet’s gaze seemed to linger on where Xander rested his arm on Flick’s shoulder. He lifted his chin to indicate Chris who was carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres between small groups of guests. ‘Chris is excited about having you working at his restaurant.’
‘I enjoy working there. He’s a great boss and I’m learning lots from him about running a restaurant.’
‘Do you want to run your own some day?’ There was a snide tone Xander had never heard Kiet use before.
What the hell was in the water? First Joe and Marta had acted strangely, and now Kiet was behaving like a man with a massive chip on his shoulder.
He almost missed Flick’s tiny gasp. He didn’t miss her wide eyes and parted lips, or the way she pushed back, away from Kiet and his simple question. This was raw nerve territory and Xander had no idea why, only that something must have happened between him leaving her in the car talking to her father, and her red-eyed appearance at his side.
She dragged in an audible breath before answering. ‘I do, but it will be years before I have enough money to buy my own.’
Xander pulled her closer and kissed her temple. ‘You never know.’ The urge to tell her his news tugged at him, but he planned to save it until they were alone. Until they could celebrate what his news meant for them. Maybe he should wait until they were back in his apartment. But he was getting ahead of himself. ‘Can I get you a drink, darling?’
Her gaze snapped back to his, sharp and intelligent and—suspicious. Eyes pinning him with a what-the-hell-was-that look, she nodded slowly. ‘White wine, please.’
He grinned, knowing that his ‘darling’ had caught her attention. If she didn’t like darling, he’d try other names on her later, but whichever pet name they settled on, it was long overdue in his book. ‘A glass of white coming right up.’
***
‘Darling’? What is Xander up to? Flick pressed both hands over her stomach and wondered why she couldn’t settle into this newly acknowledged relationship with him. Was it as simple as the spectre of her parents’ divorce continuing to haunt her, or did it have more to do with the fact that Kiet was smirking at her?
He quirked an eyebrow as their gazes met. ‘Going out with the boss, hey? I reckon you’ve got it made then.’ Kiet seemed angry, or maybe annoyed, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
‘What do you mean?’ The question fell from her lips. Stupid, really, because she knew what Kiet meant.
‘He’ll look after you is what I mean. You won’t have to bust a gut trying to make it on your own. Not like everyone else.’ He tipped the last of his beer into his mouth and gave her a less than friendly look.
Anger vibrated through her, unsettling and building on the back of her dad’s unwelcome news. ‘I don’t want or expect favours because I just happen to be going out with Xander. Whatever I achieve, I’ll do it for myself and by myself. Excuse me.’ She moved away from Kiet, away from anyone she’d have to make polite conversation with until she got her emotions under control.
Great, just great. What a fabulous Christmas Day this is turning into. First, Dad’s call and now this jerk needling me.
Xander approached with a glass of wine for her and a bottle of light beer for himself. They met halfway across the yard. ‘Here you are, Flick.’ She accepted the drink and he tapped his bottle against her glass. ‘Merry Christmas.’
Still fuming over the assumption she was sleeping with Xander for whatever she could get out of him, words were beyond her. She lifted her glass in sarcastic acknowledgement of his toast before gulping a mouthful. As her gaze darted over the group, anywhere but at Xander, she caught sight of Kiet watching them. Deliberately turning her back, she stepped around Xander. Coming to Chris’s place had seemed like a nice idea to forget her broken family today of all days. If only she hadn’t received that call from Dad before they came in.
‘Flick, what’s wrong? You looked like you’d been crying when you came in, and you’re as tense as fence wire. Has something happened at home?’
There was no home for her. Nothing to return to. Not anymore. Dad’s news about the sale of the restaurant couldn’t have come at a worse time.
She shook her head. ‘It’s nothing. Leave it be.’
Wordlessly, he took her elbow and headed into the back corner of the large block. When they were out of sight behind a row of buddleia bushes, he took her glass and set it beside his bottle on the raised wooden edge of Chris’s herb garden. Scents of sun-warmed basil and mint rose around them, joined by lavender as her dress brushed a heavily flowering bush.
Xander took hold of her hips and pulled her close. She wanted to bury her nose in the open V of his shirt and drink in his scent. In his arms, she could forget what Kiet had said, forget that there would be plenty of others who would think the same way as him, forget her own fears that what she and Xander shared couldn’t last.
When had she turned into this insecure woman?
Since Dad’s news had rung a death knell on … everything.
Xander’s lips brushed her forehead before he leaned his against hers. Maybe he could make her forget she had no home. No dream. Finally, she allowed her gaze to connect with his.
‘Tell me what’s wrong, darling.’
Just like the night of their first kiss—their first proper kiss—Xander’s touch briefly diverted her from melancholy thoughts of what she’d lost. If only she could stay in his arms forever and never have to think about the past.
‘Our restaurant’s been sold. Dad told me. The papers were signed yesterday. I had this vain hope of being able to save enough for a deposit to buy it myself before that happened, but now …’ She shrugged as though it was no big deal.
‘Is that why you’re sad?’
Did sad explain the black hole in her heart where her dream had died?
‘It’s like a death in the family. The sale of Pecorino means it’s all over. Dad and Mum will never get back together now.’ The enormity of the loss probably didn’t make sense to Xander. To her, it meant her family was broken. For good. The loss of the restaurant was the loss of her hopes and dreams. She gasped and buried her face in his shoulder.
He wrapped her in his arms and held her while she cried and cried until finally, she had no tears left. He stroked her back and rocked her gently. ‘Feel better?’
‘Like a wrung-out rag.’ She leaned back and wiped her cheeks. ‘How bad do I look?’
‘Well—you rock the raccoon eyes, but it looks more Corpse Bride than Christmas.’
She wiped her hands across her cheeks. ‘Corpse Bride? Oh my— How do you even know that?’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Jenny. I watched it with her a dozen or more times when she was in hospital. If you want I can probably quote chunks of it?’
Flick sniffed and tossed her hair out of her eyes. Xander’s dry humour was the best antidote for her Christmas blues. ‘I’ll leave that pleasure for another time, but I should get more festive looking before Chris announces lunch, don’t you think?’
He put a finger beneath her chin, tipped her face up and kissed her lips. ‘You’ll feel better if you do. Come on. We can sneak down the side of the house and back in through the front door and no one will notice.’
By the time she’d washed her face and reapplied her makeup, her emotions were back under control. But the intensity of the morning’s news had left her feeling exhausted. She opened the door of the guest bathroom. Xander was leaning against the wall, an empty bottle of beer in his hand. In her fractured world he was the only certainty she had. Grateful he hadn’t disappeared on her too, she smiled at him. ‘I should warn you, I plan to drink a little too much wine, and tell a lot of corny Christmas cracker jokes.’
‘No problem. I’ll drive. One glass of champers for a Christmas toast and that will be it for me.’
‘Thank you. It sucks when things go wrong, but it feels so much worse at Christmas.’
‘Worse than any other time of year. But there won’t be any more dramas from now on. Only good things.’