Chapter 21

21

FIA

“ I think I’m reading too closely between the lines.” My voice sounded far away as I gazed down at the bustling street below my apartment. The black, slick pavement was washed in sprays of multicolored light, little shadows bundled against the cold and snow. In the distance, rising above the towering buildings across the street, the New York City skyline burst through the low-hanging clouds. Beautiful. It was just beautiful, but even the shiny lights and constant noise from the street couldn’t numb the thoughts bouncing around my skull.

“Well, you slept with him,” Liv said pointedly from my couch, her dainty legs crossed as she balanced a cup of hot chocolate on her knee. “That’s pretty black and white.”

“We didn’t sleep together. Not all the way.”

“Still, you hooked up. That’s a line you can’t jump back across, you know.”

I chewed my lower lip and turned from the window, tapping my fingers on my arms as I hugged myself. I’d been avoiding Mason. Well, not totally avoiding him. It was the work week, after all. I knew he was busy and I tried to make myself busy, too.

I had taken a family’s pictures in Central Park today. I’d edited some photos sent to me by an influencer for some campaign she was participating in. I’d cleaned my apartment from top to bottom, reorganizing, redecorating, moving furniture around until it felt new, just to take my mind off the feeling of Mason’s hands parting my thighs and his mouth closing in on my?—

“The real question is,” Liv mused, cutting through my spiraling thoughts like butter., “Do you want to cross more lines with him?”

“We can’t,” I ground out. “Because this was supposed to be just business. I signed a damn NDA. There’s paperwork involved.”

“Well, you’re talking to me about it, so the NDA has already been broken.” She shifted her position on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. “Do you like him?”

“Of course I do. He’s… a good guy.”

“I mean, like like him?” Her dark eyes met mine, curious and slightly frustrated by my obvious attempts to skirt my true feelings.

I sank onto the arm of the couch, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. “I like him. I like him more than I should. I feel like I’m not looking forward to Christmas this year, for the first time in my life.”

“Why?”

“Because,” I groaned, blinking to clear the pressure spots from my vision. “Because once Christmas is over, this ends, and we just go our separate ways. You know, I haven’t even heard from him since the yacht trip. We had such an easy morning afterward, but the moment I stepped off the boat, reality crashed into me and I realized what we’d done. If I felt like that, he must be feeling like that in spades, Liv.”

“But he could also feel the same way?” She reached for the mug of rich, spiced hot chocolate I’d set down on the coffee table and forgotten about, handing it to me. “Maybe you should talk to him. You know, communicate like adults.”

“No,” I rushed out, shaking my head. “No, because—I can’t. What if he thinks I’m just after his connections? I’ve made a few good contacts going to all these parties. ”

“Are you joking?” She snorted a laugh as I curled my chilled hands around the mug. “Fia, if he thinks that, he doesn’t know you at all, and in that case it would be a good thing to just call this off completely. I think you’re trying to come up with excuses not to fall in love with him. I warned you this would happen.”

“I’m not falling in love with Mason O’Leary.”

“What would you call it, then?”

I closed my eyes. I didn’t have an answer for her. The answer dancing through my head wasn’t something I wanted to accept. That I was falling for him, and I didn’t know what to do with those feelings.

“He’s not Jake,” Liv said.

I took a shallow breath and met Liv’s eyes. “No, he’s not.”

Mason was the opposite of Jake in every way. I wasn’t used to guys like Mason. Kind, thoughtful, and caring. But the degree of separation between us was astounding. He was rich. Like, rich rich. I wasn’t. I barely made rent most months. He came from a wealthy, prestigious family. I came from a loud, Italian family from Brooklyn. We were leagues apart.

Yet somehow, we meshed. I could talk to him about anything. He didn’t judge me for my eclectic taste or blunt personality. I craved his company. I missed him. I wanted him.

“You got it bad, girl.” Liv smirked around her mug.

I flashed her a look and sank deeper into the couch cushions. “I don’t know what to feel, okay? I do like him. I’d like this to be more, all right? Is that what you want to hear?”

“Don’t get all pissy with me. I’m here as a sounding board, right? You did call?—”

“I did call you,” I grumbled. “But this isn’t like the romance novels you sell. This is my real life. This guy—these feelings? This is endgame kind of stuff.”

“This is why you were in such a fit when we went shopping the other day, huh?” she asked, her eyes softening.

I nodded. “I just want him to like me for me, not the version of me I have to play when we go to events together.”

“Have you really been playing a part, though?”

“No,” I groaned, resting my forehead on my knees. “That’s the worst part. I’ve been so comfortable around him from the beginning. I did this to myself. I fell for him, Liv.”

“Why are you so worked up about this? It’s so cut and dry! Just tell him how you feel!”

“I could, but he could turn me down, say he doesn’t feel the same way, and I’d be crushed. It’s better if I don’t say anything at all. Plus…”

“Plus?”

“He’s Colin’s best friend, and his boss.”

Liv pursed her lips, finally seeing my dilemma. “I forgot about that.”

“Yeah, so did I, which should tell you how deep I’m in. I haven’t thought of Colin when I’m with Mason lately, especially when we kiss. I forgot how I even ended up on Mason’s radar. What am I supposed to do?”

She sat up straighter. “Talk to him! Do you really think he doesn’t feel anything for you?”

“I know he’s attracted to me and likes hanging out but deeper than that?” I sighed. “I don’t know.”

The buzzer went off, startling us both. “That’s our pizza,” I said, rising from the couch. I pressed the call button, letting the delivery guy know I would be right down, and slipped into my slippers. “Be right back.”

Liv sighed, shaking her head at me as I slipped out of the apartment and started winding down the stairs toward the lobby. In typical New York City fashion, every floor had a different smell—food cooking, candles burning, laundry being turned over on the second-floor communal laundry room. But when I finally reached the door to the street, there were two people standing there.

I opened the door to accept the pizza, but the second delivery person hung back for a moment, rechecking the address on the tablet she was holding.

“Uh, are you looking for someone in this building?” I asked.

“Yeah, Fia Webster? This is the right address for the building but it doesn’t list an apartment number.”

“Oh, that’s me?—”

“Perfect timing then! Hold on.” She walked down the steps to a delivery van idling in the street. I stood perfectly still with my large half-Hawaiian, half-meat supreme monstrosity as I watched the woman pull something out of the back of the van covered in green and red cellophane. She picked her way back to the steps, holding out her tablet. “Sign here, please.”

Shocked, I signed, unsure what for, but within seconds a giant, heavy something was stacked on top of the pizza box. I turned back inside, unable to see over the glossy wrapping paper. It took me ages to find my way back upstairs, my legs burning from the trek to my apartment.

“Liv! You gotta help me open the door!”

Liv appeared, her eyes going wide as I sidled into my apartment. She caught the mysterious object as it slid off the pizza box, and grunted under the weight of it, furrowing her brows. “What is this?”

“I have no idea. I went down to get the pizza and another delivery person was there. It’s for me, though.”

Liv inspected it as I set down the pizza, wiped my clammy hands on my jeans, and turned to her.

She took a deep sniff. “It smells like cinnamon. Like those scented pinecones.”

“I know. That’s gotta be a good sign.”

She set it on the table, on top of a pile of mail I hadn’t sorted through yet. We stared at it for a moment, then at each other.

“Maybe it’s from a client,” I said with a shrug, peeling back the shiny paper.

Liv gasped and my mind went blank as the cellophane fell to the floor, revealing a small Christmas tree made of Christmas flowers—poinsettia, holly, pine—and decorated with tiny glass ornaments. Liv reached for the base, pressing a mysterious button, and the tree lit up with flashing soft white lights, a tune playing within.

“Wow,” I whispered to myself.

“Wow is right. These are Tiffany ornaments,” Liv whispered, inspecting one between her fingers.

I snatched the little envelope stuck between two sprigs of pine branches and ripped it open, my heartrate skyrocketing.

Fia,

I had a wonderful time on Saturday. I can’t stop thinking about it. And I figured you can never have enough trees.

Mason

I flipped the card over, my mouth going dry. The rest of the card was blank. I barely felt Liv taking the card from my hand, but her rushed exhale got my attention.

“I think this answers your question.”

“What question was that?” I asked, finding it hard to swallow.

“That he likes you as much as you like him,” she said, grinning.

“This doesn’t mean anything.” I fingered one of the ornaments. “It’s just flowers. He can’t stop thinking about what we did, not me.”

“He could have gotten you roses,” she replied with a nudge. “But he got you a Christmas tree. Two of them!” She pointed to the Christmas tree in the living room, my first real tree of my adult life. “Come on, Fia. He likes you too.”

My heart squeezed around the truth I was having a hard time processing. “Maybe.”

“Talk to him,” she urged, giving my arm a little shake. “Call him right now.”

“It’s almost nine!”

“So? He’s probably still at his office, right? You told me he always works late.”

“I guess I could call.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket but hesitated. “Just to thank him for the flowers.”

“Yeah.” She grinned with an encouraging lift to her voice. “Just to thank him for the flowers.” She opened the pizza box and grabbed a slice, giving me a teasing look. She turned toward the couch, giving me an iota of privacy despite us being less than ten feet apart at the most.

I slipped into my snug bathroom instead of hanging back in the kitchen, closing the door behind me, and called him.

It rang three times before going to an automated voicemail greeting. I stifled what I could only describe as mingled relief and disappointment that he hadn’t picked up.

“Hey, it’s Fia. I got the flowers and they’re amazing, thank you.” I swallowed hard, closing my eyes and leaning my weight against the door. “I can’t stop thinking about it either and… can we talk some time? I’d like to see you. There’s something I need to say.” The automated voice interrupted me, saying the message had been recorded. I hung up and leaned forward, bracing myself on the sink, and looked up at my reflection.

He didn’t call back.