Christmas with Her Ex. Fiona McArthur
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some reason he didn’t like the sound of that, or the way she’d said it. She glanced out the window and then back again and a horrible premonition hit him just before her next words.
‘So it should be fine with you that while you were admiring the view I sent her an invitation to join us for lunch.’
Kelsie’s golden envelope arrived, along with her glass of champagne, its embossed VSOE paper and the spidery writing giving a clue to its origin. She’d bet it came from Winsome.
Wolfgang hovered as she opened it and glanced at the bottom. Sure enough, the flamboyant W rolled into an exuberant salute. ‘Please. Come!’
An invitation to join them for lunch at the first sitting. Fun. Not! How the heck did she answer this?
‘Perhaps I should return for your answer in a few minutes?’ Wolfgang wasn’t slow on the uptake.
She guessed he’d been exposed to many such missives and their impact.
Kelsie smiled gratefully. ‘Thanks, Wolfgang.’ His head disappeared from the door and Kelsie looked down at the embossed paper again. So how did she decline politely?
She sipped her champagne, the golden fluid so surprisingly light and dry that the bubbles jumped and tickled her nose until she took it away from her mouth and looked at it. So this is what the other half drank?
Like drinking golden sunshine—no hardship at all—and she needed the courage to make a decision so she took a bigger gulp.
Or maybe she should go? Maybe that was what needed to be done. Surely inside Connor Black there was still a vestige of the hero she’d admired as a young girl and that man might understand her adolescent thinking all those years ago. He’d been her best friend and she had let him down.
The perennial questions of youth had been so important back then.
The indecision of it all. Who does he think I am? Who do I want to be? And if I went with him would I have any choices left to me? That had been the big one.
She still believed she’d done the right thing, but she shouldn’t have been such a coward about it.
Maybe it wasn’t too far-fetched that they could reconnect as friends. She hated the constraint she’d caused between them and the added bonus was she genuinely liked his grandmother.
If she sincerely apologised then surely a lot of the ill feeling would be over? It seemed he didn’t mind if she came to lunch so that was a good sign.
And afterwards she could get on with enjoying her trip. Soak it all up in the way she hadn’t yet started to do because of remembering her youth and Connor and her last-minute aborted wedding.
The whole trip would be over by tomorrow evening and she would have wasted it dwelling on the past.
She felt a strange sense of settlement as the decision was made. Funny how things worked out.
Wolfgang returned with the bottle of champagne and offered her a refill. She appreciated his generosity in the circumstances. ‘You can tell her, yes, thank you.’ She looked at her brimming glass. ‘Just make sure I don’t fall over on the way to lunch.’
He nodded with a smile. ‘My pleasure, madam. I will return at five minutes to the hour to escort you to the correct dining car.’
‘Lovely, thanks.’
Kelsie put down the glass and glanced at her watch. Eleven-thirty. And how long would lunch go on for? It couldn’t be too long because the second sitting had been set for an hour and a half later and they’d have to reset the tables.
She glanced at her satchel, still unpacked. Clothes!
As the magnificent scenery of the white-capped Italian Dolomites passed, Kelsie refreshed her make-up, brushed her hair, and with a certain excitement hung up her clothes for the meal after this one.
Her aunt had always stressed it would be black tie for the evening meal on the train when she’d first mooted the idea of realising her dream, and Kelsie wanted everything to be ready when she came back after lunch.
They’d often laughed about Kelsie wearing off-the-shoulder velvet on the Orient Express, and while it wasn’t velvet or off the shoulder, the black uncrushable gown was suspended by gold links of chain above her breasts and fell from beneath her bust to the floor.
Keslie studied the gown as it swayed gently on its hanger, almost Grecian in appearance, the accompanying chain belt dangling loosely at the side. the saleswoman had said it accentuated her height. She might need that if she was going to be passing Connor in the bar car.
Kelsie brushed the creases from her suit and changed the fine pale pink silk scarf for a Nile-blue one that made her smile and gave her confidence.
Her aunt had always promoted blue scarves or necklaces. ‘Excellent for the throat chakra, you know. Allows conversation to flow.’ Well, Kelsie thought, she certainly wanted to ensure her communication skills were premium. This could be a good day for blue.
She dived back into her jewellery bag and added blue earrings and a necklace, a little over the top, she conceded, but she wanted her mouth to function well and every bit helped.
Wolfgang arrived as she’d retouched her lipstick so she squared her shoulders and picked up her purse.
‘Please follow me, madam.’
‘Thank you.’ I’d love to, she thought sarcastically as nerves fluttered in her stomach. No. This was going to be fine.
She wobbled a bit on her heels as they walked, though she did improve the further she went. Wolfgang didn’t seem to have any problems with the slight swaying of the carriage but every now and then Kelsie raised her hands for balance, just in case, as they rattled from side to side, and placed her feet carefully on the blue carpet.
At the end of each car the wood panelling reached new heights of intricacy, with the inlaid parquetry glowing with colour. Someone, maybe even Wolfgang, was handy with the cedar oil and polishing, but she had to admit the decorations were truly beautiful examples of a bygone era.
And then she saw the bar car. ‘Oh, my.’
An absolute delight, the long curved bar was lit softly by lamps, and there was an ebony baby grand piano, the white ivory keys silent but, like the young passenger standing at the bar nursing his glass, waiting for the time it would be played.
Wolfgang inclined his head at the man, and Kelsie smiled as well. It wasn’t hard. He was young, extremely good looking, with an admiring smile. Maybe she could spend some time in the bar before dinner.
Of necessity the carriages were all narrow, and the bar car was no exception. Tiny window seats for two slim people huddled together on one side of the narrow walkway, and on the other side a lengthwise set of couches that allowed people to sit side by side and look across the aisle and out to the magnificent scenery opposite. Tiny tables with ice buckets and wine or dishes of nuts were scattered along the length of the car.
They passed into and through the first dining car—plush velvet, crystal glasses, white-coated waiters—and into the next, which was just starting to fill with well-dressed patrons. And everywhere Christmas decorations had been discreetly tucked into unexpected corners and there was a muted background of carols playing.
Connor and Winsome were already there and Connor stood as she entered, tall, broadly jacketed, and austere as Wolfgang stopped beside their table.
Then her new friend turned and deserted her, or it felt like desertion, and she fought the urge to follow Wolfgang as Connor indicated she should take the seat next to him. She hadn’t expected that. She gulped.
Kelsie stiffened her spine and slid across to the window opposite Winsome, trying not to shrink away as her ex-fiancé sat back down beside her.
It was a good thing she didn’t have to look at him, a very good thing, but the warmth from his leg radiated heat her way even though