8

Tuesday evening came quickly. Kristen opened the tin of sweets she’d bought for Christmas with her family. As that wouldn’t be happening, she decided to start eating them now. The stereo was playing carols, and the undecorated tree stood already assembled in the bay window.

A container of lights sat next to it and the box of decorations beside that. She’d already hung the ceiling garlands in the lounge and hallway; her handmade wreath was on the front door. She angled the laptop correctly, and then trotted down the hallway to the kitchen. She had to have a glass of ginger wine while decorating. That was another unbreakable tradition.

The email notification chimed.

She hurried back to the lounge, glass in hand, and clicked on the link. “Hello.”

Carlyle’s smiling face lit the room. “Hello.” He nodded to her glass. “What’s that?”

She held it up, the auburn liquid sparkling. “Ginger wine. Another tradition. It’s pretty potent stuff, so one bottle lasts a long time.”

“Never tried it.” He held up a mug. “Coffee. It’s been a long day, and the desire to nap is overwhelming. However, if I do nap now then I won’t sleep tonight.”

“Too much caffeine and you won’t sleep at all.”

“Yeah, well, I’m hoping the psychological effect will kick in. This is decaf.”

She raised a hand. “Hey, if you’d rather go and nap than spend time with me, I shan’t be too offended.”

He pretended to snore. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?” Then he peered at the screen. “Is your tree in the window?”

She nodded. “I have this huge bay window which I love. The tree sits there with the curtains open, so it can be seen from outside on the street.”

His eyes widened. “I never thought of that.” He turned around. “I wonder…No, I don’t think there’s room.”

“Turn your laptop around and show me. Maybe we can jig the furniture a little so it will fit.” She peered closely as he swivelled the laptop. His lounge was definitely manly. Deep hues of beige and was his feature wall seriously dark brown?

“OK, so, if you move the chair over a little, and shift the table out, the tree can go in place of the table.”

“Like this?” Carlyle did as she suggested. Then he stood back and gazed at it. “Although, I never use that chair. I tend to sit on the couch. Bear with me.”

A lot of grunting and shoving furniture filled the screen for a few moments. Followed by bumps and crashes and an exclamation she didn’t quite understand.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine,” came the reply. “I have another foot.” He reappeared. “I dropped the chair on my toes.” He snorted. “I can remember Matthew doing something and saying a swear word twice. Mary told him he’d go straight to hell for that.”

She laughed. “Where’s the chair now?”

“In the dining room, which I hardly ever use, so it’s doubling as my home office. Now that whole space is free for the tree.” He dragged the tree in front of the window and opened the curtains a little. “There.”

“Looks good.”

“And it makes more sense as it’s now by a plug which means no extension lead.”

“Always a bonus.” Kristen picked up the lights. “I tend to go overboard with these. Although they do suggest a hundred lights per foot of tree.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then how do you have room for the ornaments?”

She laughed. “I know, right? Even though this is a six-foot tree and ought to have six hundred lights, I only ever use four hundred. Don’t fancy starting a fire either, so no tinsel. I also have a handmade tree skirt to hide the wires. Oh, and Billie here, gets up to all sorts of trouble.” She held up a crocheted elf.

Carlyle laughed. “Yes, I’ve been enjoying her advent antics each morning online. It looks as if you’re having a lot of fun.”

“We both are. We get daily prompts but they’re pretty easy to do. Tomorrow’s is decorating the tree, so I’ll take that tonight. Billie wants to be a tree ornament, so she’ll be literally decorating the tree. We get the whole list in advance so we can take the photos in whatever order we like.”

“She’s cute. Who made her?”

“Mum. I can’t crochet to save my life. She’s tried to teach me several times, but…” She waved her hand over her head.

Carlyle chuckled. “Bit like me and woodwork. Matt caught on really fast. I hit my thumb more than the nail, so I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the saw. Probably just as well.”

She sipped her wine, and then set the glass down, turning to the tree. She turned on the lights. “Yeah. I’ve heard of a one-armed bandit, but not a one-armed accountant. You could start a new trend.” Slowly she wound the lights from the bottom of the tree to the top and then back down again. “I always do this with the lights on so I can see which bits I’ve missed.”

“Good idea. As you can see, I don’t.” He bent and switched them on. “Hmm. Might need to start again.”

She glanced at his tree. “Yeah, you missed a huge chunk in the middle. How was work?”

“Work is—a four letter word I want to forget. Really bad day.”

“That’s fine with me.”

He pulled off the lights and started over. “Oh, and guess what else I’m doing? No, it’s not eating chocolates, which I am, by the way. Aside from the orange ones. I don’t like them.”

“I don’t like nuts.”

“Swap you for the orange ones.”

“Done, so what are you doing now?”

He grinned. “I had a really lovely package full of candles delivered this morning, and it smells absolutely heavenly. I had a job to decide which one to burn first but finally plumped for the peppermint kisses.”

Kristen’s heart thrilled. “What do you think?”

“Amazing. Do you seriously make all of them from scratch?”

She nodded. “Design, invent, make, the whole shebang.”

“That makes you even more incredible than I first thought. Thank you so much. I’d actually like to order some for Christmas presents, or is it too late?”

She caught her breath. Shipping the candles would mean it might be too late, depending on the destination, but this was Carlyle. “Just make sure you order through the website. It keeps the books straight, and all the orders in the one place. If you want them sent to separate addresses, make sure to note that in the space on the order form.”

“One of them yes, but the rest can come to me, and I can deliver them myself with the other Christmas presents.” Carlyle sat and peered at the screen as if reading on it. “It says here you have over two-hundred and fifty different scents. How do I know which ones to pick? What would you suggest?”

“That depends entirely on what you’re looking for. Sweet, woodsy, holiday scents, etcetera, or you could look for a certain colour or size. I could also do a selection box with burner and tea lights, very similar to yours.”

“Where’s that?”

“Top of the screen under new.”

“Yup, got it.”

“Just click any one of those and type ‘like what you gave me’ in the comment box. I’ll know what to pack then. The tea lights have their own page as do the wax burners.”

He nodded, eyes narrowing as he concentrated. Then widened. “Oh, wow, look at those Christmas burners that plug in.”

She grinned. “One of the best sellers. I have four left, with a delivery due tomorrow. If you want them, say so now.”

“All four, please.”

“Sure.” She carried on decorating the tree as they chatted, sipping the wine and munching her way through the chocolates she liked.

“Done. Says here postage is seven to ten days.”

“It’s usually less than that; however, as you’re local and know where I live via the church directory, you can do a contactless pick up if you’d rather. That way you get to see my lights in person.”

He laughed. “And have Lucy think I’m a burglar for creeping around your house in the dark?”

Kristen giggled. “She’s a pretty good watch dog. You wouldn’t get far. So contactless pick up?”

“Please.”

“OK. Give me a second here.” She pulled up a screen on her phone. “Let me know when you’re on the payment page.”

“I’m there now.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Click where it says coupon and type in FF35. That’s the friends and family discount. And don’t argue either.”

He beamed. “Thank you, so much. OK, ordered and paid.”

“And I have the email. I’ll send the confirmation in the morning and let you know when they are done. And speaking of being done…” She rose and turned off the main light, bathing the room in the soft glow of Christmas lights. The sound of her favourite carol filled the room. “There you go.”

“Oooo. That is really pretty. Nice job.”

“Thank you. Yours is lovely too. Do you have a star or fairy for the top?”

“Star. Mind you we always called them angels not fairies.” Carlyle held it up and slid it onto the top of the tree. “It also lights up. And I’m done as well.”

“It’s beautiful. It looks so good with just blue and green on it. I never colour code mine. I did wonder about it, but always find really appealing things in different colours so I have a hodgepodge.”

“And why not? It looks amazing as it is. Colour coordinating is a family thing. Mine is always blue and green. Matt does red and gold. Mary does purple and silver and Mum and Dad do blue and white.”

“Nice. We have nothing like that. Everyone kind of does their own thing.”

“But you have other traditions. Like watching the Queen’s Speech and opening everything really late.”

Kristen nodded, stifling a yawn. “Sorry, been a long day for me too. I might have to call it a night.”

He nodded. “It is late, and I have an eight o’clock meeting. At home, thankfully.”

She waved. “Have fun and see you tomorrow at some point.”

He nodded. “Definitely.”

~*~

As soon as his early Wednesday meeting was over, Carlyle closed the laptop. He needed to venture out for a while. Stressful didn’t even begin to cover the last couple of hours. The sooner they closed for the two-week Christmas break the better. Assuming that would happen with them working from home some days. Stress was nothing new, especially around tax season, but this? How could another employee completely lose an account? And then attempt to blame him?

Thankfully, he had email records to prove he’d sent the file back after double checking something, and a read receipt to prove this particular person had received and opened the email.

Max worried his hand, and Carlyle stroked his silky head. “I know. Let’s go for a walk. Go find your lead.”

Max bounded from the room, tail wagging. Five seconds later, he was back and dropped the lead on Carlyle’s feet.

“OK. I’m coming.” He clipped on the leash, followed the dog into the hall and donned boots, coat, and hat. “How about we go to the park and have a decent run? Then I can come back, with my brain fresh and ready to do something else. Maybe. Or I can start on the kitchen decorating which I still haven’t done.”

Max woofed his agreement, then howled as Carlyle knelt and started putting doggy boots on those big paws.

“I know you hate them. But you’ll freeze to the ground out there otherwise. And you don’t want frost bite any more than you want burnt feet in the height of summer.”

He rose, shoved his keys into his pocket, and headed out, conversing with Max along the way as usual. “Oh, it’s cold, but at least the snow is melting. A white Christmas is still in the cards, but it’s very impractical for visiting. And dog walking. However, since we can’t visit, I guess it really doesn’t matter this year what the weather does.”

Fifteen minutes later, he reached the park. He let Max off the lead and threw his red ball. For the first time ever, Max totally ignored it. Instead, he dashed off across the park, yapping loudly, making a bee line for a black cocker spaniel.

The dogs both barked and danced around each other.

“Hey, Max. Get back here.” Carlyle dashed across the icy grass. “I’m really sorry about this—” He skidded to a stop at what he prayed was the prescribed safe distance.

“Is that your—” The woman turned. Her voice died, and that cute pink hue he’d come to know so well spread over her cheeks. “Carlyle?”

His heart raced. Kristen was real and standing right in front of him. “Kristen…” He swallowed, not wanting to appear a complete idiot. “And that must be Lucy.”

Kristen nodded, ignoring the two barking dogs chasing each other. Her gaze was riveted on him. “And they’ve already made friends.”

Carlyle would give anything to stand closer. Was she wearing perfume? He couldn’t tell from here. And why had his mind gone blank and left him speechless? Which was crazy. He’d spent at least two hours every day, for the past ten days or was it two weeks now, talking to her via video chat. And now she was here, right in front of him, in person, and all he could think of to say was… “You’re prettier in person.” Did he really just do that?

Her blush deepened. “And you’re taller than I thought.” She shoved the doggie ball into her pocket. “I don’t think I’ll need this. She’s having way too much fun with Max.”

He nodded.

Kristen raised an eyebrow. “Have you gone shy all of a sudden, Mr. Stevenson?”

His cheeks scorched.

“It’s OK. Me, too. Only I tend to chat rubbish when I get nervous.” She shot him a sideways glance. “You look different.”

“It’s the hat. It hides the fact I really, really need a haircut. I spend at least an hour gelling it into submission before I call you.”

Her laughter rang like a silver bell, hanging on the winter air. It thrilled him, and he so wanted to pull her into his arms, assure himself she really was real and not just a face on a screen. He longed for the simple human action of holding hands.

How were they ever meant to come back from this pandemic of fear which now held the entire world in chains? Afraid to touch, to be touched, to live and breathe, and just be normal. Whatever normal was.

He cleared his throat. “It’s a shame we can’t grab a coffee somewhere, but nowhere is open.”

“We can have coffee when we get home just as we normally do.”

Carlyle stamped his feet, the cold seeping through his boots. “It’s not the same.”

“This won’t last forever. One day.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He glanced over at the dogs. “They’re like kids. Make friends easily.”

“It might be a good thing they get on.” She shoved her hands deeper into her pockets, burying her nose into her scarf. “Since we are dating, even if only virtually.”

“That reminds me.” He turned to face her properly. “I spoke to my boss yesterday on the phone. He says it would potentially be a conflict of interest if I handled your files, and even if someone else in the firm did, there’s a chance I’d access them and change them. Not that I would.”

She nodded. “He’d sack you.”

“True. But I wouldn’t anyway, because it’s wrong.”

She rubbed her hands together. “Thank you, though.”

He grinned. “I’m not done. I rang a friend from church who’s also an accountant—Sam West. She used to run Wyatt Finance.”

Kristen’s frown marred her pretty face. “Wasn’t there some huge scandal there?”

“Yes, but nothing to do with Sam. She was cleared of any wrongdoing by the investigation. She’s a stay at home mum now, but does a few accounts to keep her hand in. She’s more than happy to take on yours for a modest fee. Probably a lot less than you’re paying Viceroys’. They aren’t exactly cheap—even we charge less than they do.”

“I’ll pay her the going rate.” Kristen began walking slowly, following the dogs, and he kept pace with her. “Whatever that is.”

Carlyle glanced at her. He’d have to tell Sam to suggest a reasonable figure, maybe what he earned an hour. That would still be far less than she was paying now. “Her husband’s a lawyer, so he can do whatever legal contract you need. She said to give you her number, so I’ll text it to you. If you’d like it, that is. And let her know to expect your call at some point over the next day or so.”

Kristen nodded. “Please.”

Carlyle stamped his feet again. His hand froze as he quickly sent the texts. Then he pulled his glove back on. “The temperature has dropped again. Which means all this melting snow is going to turn to ice.”

Kristen whistled. “Lucy, here girl, play time’s over. I have an awful lot to get done today.”

He winked. “Are my candles done yet?”

She laughed, clipping on Lucy’s lead, as the dog danced at her feet. “Almost. I need to pack them. They’ll be on the doorstep around half past four, and then you can see my lights in person.”

“Do you want me to ring the bell when I pick them up?”

“I’ll watch from the window. Besides, Lucy will let me know you’re there. Or I could simply text and say they’re ready.”

“You’ll need my number.”

She laughed. “I already have it. I also know how to use the church directory.” She winked. “Seriously, though, I saved it from the weekend.”

“Makes sense.” He glanced around. “Max! Where are you? Here, boy.”

“He’s already here. Right by your feet.”

Chagrined, Carlyle looked down to find Max standing by Lucy, cocking his head. He clipped on the head. “So he is. Come on, boy, let’s go home. Nice to finally meet you in person, Kristin.”

She bit her lip in that shy, cute way she had. “I really don’t want to go, but I have so much to do.”

“Me as well. Fancy lunch later, or are you working through?”

“Working.” Her face fell. “Otherwise, I would. But I’ll see you later when you collect your candles.”

He smiled. “You will. And I’ll set up the meeting for the usual time.”

“Sounds good.”

Carlyle tugged on Max’s lead. He had to leave before he gave into temptation and hugged her. This was so much harder than simply ending a video call. “Bye.” He turned and took a step to find Max digging his heels in and refusing to move. “You’re not helping.”

“Nor’s Lucy. I don’t think they want to leave each other.”

“I know the feeling.” Carlyle tugged on the lead. “C’mon, Max. We can play with Lucy another day. Only next time I’ll bring coffee.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Carlyle nodded. “Well, bye.” He walked slowly, Max finally moving with him. He glanced down. “I guess we’re both leaving a chunk of us behind, hey?”

Mournful eyes stared up at him.

“I know, buddy, me, too.”