The Billionaire's First Christmas Read online

  Jeffrey was supposed to pick me up to go to the airport later in the afternoon. I sent him a message that I’d decided to drive myself and would just park in long-term parking. I text him instead of calling, he was probably relieved. He had grown fond of Robyn and I’m sure that it was hard for him to keep his tongue in check about the way I’ve treated her. He was a complete professional, but the day before I could see on his face that it was eating away at him. He had known me for a long time. I’m sure he could easily read me and he knew I was lying about not having feelings for her.

  I sat the luggage I’d packed just inside the door of the apartment so it would be easy to gather and load when I got back. I honestly had no idea where I was going or what I would do when I got there. All I knew was that I needed a change of scenery and some fresh air before I suffocated. I drove aimlessly around the city for almost an hour when I suddenly realized where I was. I was in the vicinity of the Christmas fair that Robyn and I had gone to the day she was the “boss.” Surprising myself, I found a parking spot and wandered through the parking lot and into the park where the fair was going on. It was like I was being led by some kind of invisible force.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ~

  AARON

  The Christmas Eve snow was falling lightly and Christmas music was being piped through speakers in the trees. I thought about what Robyn said about the first snow of the season being “magic” and I wondered what she would say about Christmas snow. I passed a few carolers and remembered how beautifully she’d sung both that day at the park and the night we danced together. It was like she didn’t do anything that wasn’t perfect or beautiful.

  I found it funny that I’d come here alone. This was exactly the last place anyone who knew me would think of looking for me on this day or any other. I could truly disappear into the fair and no one on earth would find me. It was the last place I would have pictured myself as well, and here I was for the second time this season. I had to smile as I thought about what a good job Robyn had done, almost getting me into the holiday spirit… almost. I’d had a fantastic time that day with her. The games were fun and although it took me twenty dollars to win a two-dollar toy, I’d had a blast doing it. The food was great which surprised me and I loved snuggling with her on the carriage ride. Making snow angels was even a treat… although Robyn was the only person in the world that I could picture myself doing that with. It most definitely was not the least bit sophisticated.

  I wandered around the market, going in and out of the same shops that Robyn and I shopped at and watching the festive crowd ride the rides and play the games and I realized that the spirit she’d instilled in me was gone and I started to believe that it hadn’t really been about Christmas at all. It had been about the fire she’d lit in the pit of my gut. She was no longer here to stoke it, so the fire had burnt out. I had to wonder what the rest of her life was like, outside of work. She was always so happy and upbeat that it was hard to be anything else around her. Surely she didn’t spend as much time alone as I did. When you were alone a lot you became introspective and it was difficult to reach outside of yourself far enough to touch others. Robyn was an expert at reaching out and touching other’s hearts.

  I thought back over the times that Robyn and I had contact since the night of the auction. Most of it had been because for whatever reason, she refused to give up. By all rights, she should have run in the other direction by now. I hadn’t been warm, friendly or forthcoming about myself and my life, yet she’d still seemed to want to be around me. It was strange that I didn’t feel she was forcing herself on me. I believed that she just truly wanted me to enjoy Christmas the way that she did. She shared her story about her Christmas with her family with me and I didn’t share a thing with her. I had my own Christmas story, but mine was sad and depressing.

  She took me ice-skating and she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed to be seen with me when I was sitting on the ice on my ass. She usually went down with me and we would get back up together and try again. It wasn’t at all what I had come to expect from people. People didn’t treat me the same as they did others. I was always either deferred to because of my status and money, or I was kissed up to. There didn’t seem to be any happy medium… no one treated me the same as they did their other friends and acquaintances - until I met Robyn. She didn’t treat me like her boss, she wasn’t intimidated by my status, and she didn’t seem to want anything from me, except to see that I was as happy as she was. On the other hand, I’d acted like Scrooge and I walked away at a time when most men would be jumping for joy. She wanted to kiss me under the mistletoe. The prettiest woman at the party had eyes for me, and I left her sitting there in the cold. I’d found a person who treated me like a human being at last. It was what I wanted, supposedly, yet I’d failed to act like I deserved it.

  I continued to wander around the fair, turning down the offers of “fresh baked cookies” and “handmade trinkets.” Disgusted both with myself and the festive atmosphere, I headed back towards the parking lot and my car. I’d had as much “Merry Christmas” and happy families as I could take for one day, and I just had to accept that I’d messed things up with Robyn, likely to the point of no return.

  I stepped around a pile of little boys, wrestling and getting wet and dirty in the snow. They were tattering their Christmas best their mothers had dressed them in for the occasion, but they looked like they were having a great time. I got back onto the sidewalk once I was around them and that was when I saw her. She looked beautiful, as usual. She had on blue jeans and a white parka. Her white beanie looked handmade and she had gloves to match. I stood mesmerized by the sight of her as she walked through the booths, taking long strides in her fur-lined white boots and with a smile on her gorgeous face. She looked like she was heading somewhere with a purpose in mind.

  I thought about catching up to her and saying hello. Maybe trying to explain somehow why I’d left her sitting there the other night. I wasn’t sure how to do that without telling her my life story and I wasn’t ready to talk about that. I knew I should say something though. She deserved more respect than what I’d shown her so far. While I was trying to hide my feelings, I’d taken it too far the other way, I think. I hung back for a few minutes to see what she was doing, and when I saw her go up to the hot chocolate stand and buy three hot chocolates I was glad I hadn’t gone over. I assumed she was with friends and I wouldn’t want to dampen her holiday celebrations. I should have turned and gone back to my car then, but I continued to watch her instead. She took the drink carrier from the girl at the kiosk and again, smiled merrily at everyone she passed as she made her way back through the park in the other direction. I’m no stalker, but I was very curious about her life and what type of people she surrounded herself with that made her so happy, so I followed her.

  She walked through the park away from the fair. I thought that was strange and she made her way down a little cobblestone path to the sidewalk. There were a lot of people out and about, doing their last minute shopping no doubt, so it was easy for me to follow her without her noticing for a while. Her white beanie helped, I could see it bobbing up and down in the midst of the crowd if I couldn’t see her. Eventually, she turned down another street. It was a little side street, not much bigger than an alleyway. There wasn’t much foot traffic and no way for me to hide in plain sight as I did when I was chasing her across the park. I hung back so she didn’t see me and when she got a few blocks away, I saw her turn again about a block ahead of me. That was when I advanced again, but when I got to that street, I couldn’t see her any longer. The street turned into a dead end and there was nothing there but a cobbled path that led to an old cemetery. It was a beautiful old graveyard that judging from the style of some of the mausoleums, looked like it had been around for decades. It was one that I wasn’t familiar with although I’d lived in the city my entire life. It was tucked away into its own little haven with statues of angels and intricately carved tombs towering above the sim
ple gravestones. Big, sad looking weeping willow trees surrounded the grounds and gave it kind of a spooky appearance. I didn’t really do graveyards.

  Frustrated with myself for letting Robyn get away and feeling creepy about being in a cemetery, I turned around and started to leave. That was when I got a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye. She was sitting down. That’s how I had missed her. There were two graves marked with an attached headstone. The headstone had an angel carved on one side and a Santa Claus on the other, but I couldn’t read what was on them from where I sat. I watched Robyn sit a hot chocolate on either side and then she took out the last one and began sipping it. I couldn’t see her face from where I was, and since I was still curious about what she was doing, I decided to move around to the other side of the graves so that I could. Walking around in a wide path so that she wouldn’t catch me out of the corner of her own eye, I found a small mausoleum that I could stand behind and see her face. I wondered what she would think if she knew I was watching her. She’s so sweet; she would probably just invite me over and ask me to join in.

  Robyn was talking, animatedly. She was making hand gestures and she would smile and frown and grimace, just as if she was having a conversation with a living person. What struck me most were the tears I could see rolling down her pretty face. She was always so happy that it tore at my heart to see her cry. I wanted to go over to her and take her in my arms and make whatever was distressing her go away. I didn’t want to interrupt her moment, however no matter how kind I knew she would be about it. Watching her, I could tell this was something she’d done before. Whoever was lying in those graves was hearing about her life… I wondered who she had lost that was so special to her that she’d communicate with them like this even after they were gone.

  Robyn spent at least an hour there, maybe more. I’d lost track of time, so mesmerized was I by watching her. I was once again fascinated by her spirit. Her tears showed that she was obviously deeply affected by the loss of whoever lay there, but yet she smiled through them for the better part of the time she sat there and talked. At last, she picked up her cup and seemed to finish it, pulled herself up off the ground and blew a kiss at each of the grave markers. Then I watched as she left the way she had come.

  ROBYN

  Every year since my parents died I did what I’d always done on Christmas Eve… I shared a hot chocolate with them and told them what was going on in my life. This year I told them about my new job and the fact that I’d already been promoted to an executive position; I was really proud of that and I knew they would be too. Thinking about how proud of me they would be was what got me through college with a 4.0 GPA even after they’d passed away. I learned to work hard by watching them and by basking in the encouraging words they always had for me. My hard work was paying off for me now and I had my parents to thank for that and I liked to come to the cemetery and tell them so.

  My mother was a housewife and mother, but she excelled at it. So much so that it made me really upset when I’d hear anyone say, “I’m just a housewife “or “She doesn’t work.” My mother worked from sun-up to sundown making our home warm and happy. I rarely saw her sit down unless we were having family time. I had an amazing childhood and her efforts were a huge part of that. I also learned from her that hard work didn’t always produce immediate results, but it was the long term payoff that really counted. The other part of my amazing childhood was my Daddy. He wasn’t home a lot during the week because he worked so hard to provide for us. But when he was home, he was there a hundred percent. He sat down every evening and talked to me about my day. Sometimes, if he thought I might find it interesting, he would tell me about his. Then at night after I went to bed I would hear him talk to my mother about hers. On the weekends we all shared our meals and did something as a family usually on Saturday and then on Sunday we went to church together and we’d all cook dinner as a family. It was picture perfect and the only truly bad thing that ever happened to me was a plane crash when I was nineteen years old that took my parents from me. It took me a year of grieving before I realized something: The crash had only taken their bodies from me. I still had their spirits. Although I missed seeing them, I could feel them in my own heart… in my very soul most of the time.

  After I told them about my job this Christmas Eve, I told them about Aaron. I suppose that he’s not mine to tell about, but somehow he’d made his way into my heart and I can’t seem to let him go. I told them how handsome he was, and how smart and when he wasn’t trying so hard to be serious, how much fun he can be. He hurt me, the night of the party when he walked away, but I still can’t let my hopes for him go. I told them that too. I had a feeling they would be proud of that. They trusted my judgment when they were here, I’m sure that they still do.

  Aaron may not have kissed me that night, but I can feel how he feels about me. I might be thought crazy by some to tolerate that behavior and still have feelings for him and hope to cultivate more. But like I told Max, I think something happened to him around Christmas time and now he’s just afraid. I think all he needs is a little help to get past that. He needs someone that he can trust and depend on to teach him that there is so much more to life than a boardroom.

  When I left the cemetery that day, I dropped off one of my Santa gifts. I still did the Santa thing, in memory of my Dad. This one was the last one on my list. I hoped he liked it.

  I went home then and finished wrapping a few more gifts that I would give to my friends on Boxing Day. After I finished wrapping up my gifts, my cat, Mr. Pibbs and I had our dinner and then I put on pajamas and sat down to watch television for a while. I was knitting some hats and scarves for my friends to go with the gifts I’d bought them. I was also making a little hat and booties for John’s babies. They were so cute I couldn’t wait to see them in them. I worked on them while I watched Christmas movies. I was thinking about going to bed around nine when I saw that “It’s a Wonderful Life” was coming on. It was a movie that my parents and I watched together on Christmas Eve every year when I was growing up. I think I was the only little girl in my second grade class who had a clue who James Stewart and Donna Reed were.

  Instead of going to bed, I made cookies while I waited for the movie to come on. I used the same recipe that my mother used to use. Like I’d told Aaron that day, they were the best cookies in the world. When they were done, Mr. Pibbs had his special treat and I had my warm, gooey cookies and we watched the movie together. I was glued to it as if this wasn’t the twenty-sixth year in a row I’d watched it and I cried at the end like I always do. No matter how many times I’d seen it, Clarence getting his wings was a beautiful thing.

  When it was over and I could stop crying I cleaned up after myself and headed into my room for bed. Once I was tucked in, I thought about my parents and I cried again, finally crying myself to sleep at last.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ~

  AARON

  I waited for Robyn to leave the cemetery that morning and then I went over and looked at the grave stones. One said, “John Hurst” loving father. The other said, “Samantha Hurst” loving mother. The caption underneath it said, “The real Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus.” Underneath that it said, “Alas! How dreary would be the world if there was no Santa Claus! There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, and no romance to make tolerable this existence.

  FRANCIS P. CHURCH, New York Sun, Sep. 21, 1897”

  I couldn’t help but smile at that. These must be her parents, the ones that had taught her to have such an amazing heart and spirit of the season. The sight of their graves made me sad for her. They also made me wonder even more how she could have such a positive outlook on life. How could she be such a happy person when the two people she loved most in the world weren’t here any longer? I wondered about what she told me when I asked her how she was spending her holiday. She had simply said, “With my family.” Was this what she meant, or did she have extended family that she holidayed with?

  I finall
y left. I felt like it wasn’t alright for me to be there without Robyn. I got back into my car and headed home. Although it no longer sounded so appealing, I still had a plane to catch. When I got home, I found a gift on my doorstep. I wasn’t really surprised when I read the note and saw that it was from Robyn.

  “Do not open until Christmas day. If your plans change, I’d love to have you join me for Christmas dinner tomorrow. Come over any time.” There was an address there as well.