Christmas Cracker 3-Book Collection: Three Cosy Christmas Romances. Lindsey Kelk
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yet. I got caught up on a conference call with a foreign supplier,’ he explains. And I secretly wonder if it might be a blessing in disguise. I’m not sure I want him seeing my embarrassing debut on the TV screen, despite what Eddie says – he’s my friend so he’s bound to be kind about it.
‘Was it any good?’ Tom smiles and raises his eyebrows enthusiastically.
‘No, it blooming wasn’t! It was embarrassing, and they set me up. Annie too. Did you know they were going to edit the film to make us look like totally incompetent and inefficient sales assistants?’
‘I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.’ He frowns, and then quickly adds, ‘They didn’t show your faces, did they?’
‘Like that makes a difference,’ I say, resisting the urge to slap his beautiful cheek.
‘Well, they wanted to originally, but I stopped it,’ he says, looking pleased with himself. I smart from his indifference and obvious loyalty to Kelly and Zara over me.
‘You could have at least warned me.’
‘I couldn’t. The board voted in favour of signing the NDA with the production company.’ I give him a blank look, hating myself all over again for feeling so out of my depth. ‘Non-disclosure agreement,’ he says, tactfully. ‘So you see, I couldn’t tell you, even if I’d wanted to.’
‘So you wanted to then?’ I ask, my spirits lifting slightly at the prospect of redeeming something from this hideous situation.
‘I know how much you love these reality TV programmes. It was meant to be a surprise,’ he says, deftly avoiding my question. He looks away.
‘A surprise? Tom, you humiliated me. You kept a secret and it’s not the first time.’ I bite my lip again.
‘Hang on a minute. I thought you understood about that,’ he says, his voice dropping and his eyes flashing.
‘Oh, I understood plenty. That you didn’t trust me enough to let me know you were Tom Carrington posing as just another sales assistant.’
‘And is it any wonder when you react like this?’ he says, running a hand through his hair.
‘Like what?’ I say, glaring at him.
‘Practically hysterical.’
‘Well, I’m sorry if I’m too hysterical for you now.’ My heart is hammering inside my chest.
‘That’s not what I said.’ Silence follows. Tom clears his throat and turns away from me. ‘I can’t deal with this now, not here.’
‘But I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me. We’ve been flirting for months, and now dating. I thought we had something, or did I get it completely wrong?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘So I’m ridiculous now?’
‘Georgie, this is getting us nowhere.
‘I couldn’t agree more.’ An awkward silence follows.
‘So what do we do now?’ It’s Tom who speaks first.
‘I have no idea. Why don’t you decide … seeing as you’re the one in charge,’ I snap.
‘Fine,’ he retaliates, looking really fired up as he paces around the room, flicking his shirtsleeve back to check the time on his watch. ‘If I’m upsetting you so much, then maybe we should just call it a day … ’ He comes to a halt in front of me and stands with his hands on his hips, as if daring me to challenge his decision.
‘Good. I was thinking just the same thing,’ I say, desperately trying to keep my voice steady. I don’t want to split up. I want us to be together. Having fun. Falling in love. Just like other blissfully happy couples. But I do have some pride, and if he isn’t as into me as I thought, which is glaringly obvious given that he’s this quick to suggest we split up, then maybe it’s for the best we end it before it goes any further.
‘Look, we should talk about it … ’ he says, his voice softening as if he wants to let me down gently.
‘Sorry, I don’t have time.’ Ha! I’m busy too.
‘I’m sorry.’ He glances away.
‘Well so am I.’
It takes me less than three seconds to leave the room, my shoulders stiff and my back constricting with a whole raft of horrible emotions. I grab my bag and coat from Eddie’s desk, and quickly brush him away as he stands to reach a concerned hand out to my arm.
‘Hey Georgie! Hang on,’ Eddie calls out, but I’m gone, tears stinging my eyes as I run along the corridor and back to the safety of the staff lift. I push the cage door back and step inside before slumping against the wall and crying my heart out. And not graceful lady tears like Meryl at an Oscar acceptance speech. Oh no, these are big gulping heaving sobs that I just know are going to make my face look like a swollen blotchy balloon in about an hour or so.
Over! I say the word over and over inside my head as I huddle inside the cubicle. I’m in the staff loo and I can’t stop crying. Angry tears. Sad tears. All mingled together.
‘Hey, you OK in there?’
‘Err. Who is it?’ I ask hesitantly, quickly wiping the back of a hand across my cheeks.
‘It’s me. Annie.’ I pull open the door and she hands me a wedge of tissues. ‘What’s up?’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘Bullshit! Tell me or I’m going downstairs right now to mess up your merch,’ she says, flinging one hand onto her hip and twiddling her nose stud with the other.
‘You wouldn’t dare.’ I manage a watery smile.
‘Try me. You know those cute gold stars and sparkly white snowman shapes you spent all last week scattering amongst the DKNY shelves to create the perfect Christmassy display?’
‘Nooo.’ My eyes widen. ‘It took me ages to stencil them, spray-paint them, cut them out and then place them artfully amongst the winter collection … ’
‘Exactly.’ Another silence follows as I ponder on what to say. Everyone knows that Tom and I had started dating, but still … instinct tells me that I need to be professional about us splitting up. Besides, I refuse to be the stereotypical girl who has a fling with the boss, ends up getting burnt and her colleagues all rally round feeling sorry for her while slagging off the guy. Tom doesn’t deserve that. He’s gorgeous, my perfect man, or so I had thought. What’s happened between us doesn’t change all that. I stick a smile on my face and take a deep breath. ‘It’s the reality TV programme, isn’t it?’ Annie says, interrupting my thoughts.
‘Well, kind of,’ I say, feeling relieved. ‘Anyway, how are you? I thought you were upset about it too,’ I say, shifting the focus away from me.
‘Me? Oh no.’ She flaps her hand and pulls a face. ‘Yeah, I was a bit hacked off when I saw myself on the telly, but after Amy, the HR manager, said I’m not getting sacked, so this bad boy is still out of here, I’m cool with it.’ And she pulls down her top to circle an index finger around the Flo Rida tattoo.
‘Err, good,’ I say, feeling increasingly like the biggest party pooper going. First Eddie, then Mrs Grace and now Annie – they’re all keen to do the show. But how do they know it won’t backfire, just like that old airport reality show with easyJet? The bit I saw was just a load of customers complaining, so what’s to say Kelly’s programme won’t do the same to us? They’ve already made out that the service in Women’s Accessories is rubbish. If they do that throughout the whole store, it could seriously damage Carrington’s reputation forever. Instead of restoring