The Magic of Mistletoe

“Kristina.” Duke’s warm voice had turned icy cold.

Kristina Barclay was as glamorous in person as she was on television. She was close to six feet tall with legs that went on for days. Obviously she didn’t know it was an ugly sweater party; otherwise she wouldn’t have poured herself into the black cashmere dress that stopped barely below her thighs and worn thigh-high black leather boots. She wore a black-and-white houndstooth coat to shield her from the dropping temperature. Macy bit the inside of her lip and studied the woman whom Duke had been so popularly linked to.

“Oh, you don’t know how glad I am to find you here!” Kristina cooed. “I thought for a second that you might have actually flown home to that little village of yours. You always were talking about spending the holidays with your parents.”

Macy had never been to Mao, but she took great offense at the way Kristina spoke of Duke’s hometown. Knowing how much Duke cared about his family, she also didn’t appreciate her dismissing Duke’s love for them, either. How long had they known each other?

“Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“It’s not my party, Kristina.”

Unfortunately, Mario didn’t catch the tension. “Kristina Barclay.” He practically drooled as he pushed his way to the door. “Come in, come in!”

“Thank you,” Kristina said, sauntering into the room. The music was still playing, but no one was dancing. Pablo had made his way across the room with Mario. “Pablo, haven’t you been giving Duke my messages?”

“Now is not the time,” Pablo said under his breath. Monique appeared at her husband’s side.

“You knew she was coming?” Monique’s question was more like a sentencing from a judge. Macy felt sorry for him because she knew Pablo was going to get an earful later.

“Now is exactly the perfect time.” Her upper lip curled in a sneer as she looked at Pablo. “That senator from Tallahassee is stepping down. I would have thought you—” she turned and looked over her shoulder at Duke “—would have been all over it, seeing how you’re in his hometown.”

Pablo looked down at his phone. Macy looked around and noticed that everyone working for the station was checking their cell phone for the text messages. But not Duke.

Macy felt Duke tense again. “Not now, Kristina. Go away.”

“I can’t go away. The station has sent me down here to this godforsaken town to cover the story. And Oscar wanted me to remind you that you’re on loan here. Didn’t you read the fine print?”

Duke spoke through clenched teeth. “I was rather preoccupied when I left.”

“Well, your contract here is null and void with the station if there is a story. And—” she slipped off her coat, which Mario eagerly caught “—obviously there’s quite the scandalous story here.”

There was a gasp in the room. The front door, which was still open, began flashing with lights from the ground to the top of the door. Macy knew that a senator stepping down would certainly cause a stir, but she couldn’t understand why it would call for the paparazzi to come out like hounds. She looked up at Duke. His eyes were now slits of anger. She cast a glance at Kristina and her mouth gaped in shock. There she was, dressed in her pearls that hung down between her breasts and rested peacefully on her perfectly round pregnant belly.

* * *

The last thing Duke wanted to do was subject Macy to his former lifestyle. The bulbs were going off. His heart ached at the sight of her face, her eyes wide and glued on Kristina’s shape. He cursed under his breath. Macy left his side and stepped away. He reached for her, but she pulled back.

Behind her, Kristina cackled in her menacing way. “Oh dear, Duke, did you find yourself someone to keep you occupied for your time here?” She narrowed her eyes on Macy, her upper lip curled in a jealous rage. “Sweetie, did he tell you that when he’s done here, he’s leaving and coming back to me?”

“Get out of here, Kristina,” Duke lashed out at the woman standing in the doorway in the center of this mayhem.

“Duke, maybe you and Kristina can talk in the other room,” Pablo suggested. Duke didn’t miss Monique pinching his arm.

“Or she can just leave,” Monique snapped.

“Gee, Monique, I thought we were friends.” Kristina’s voice lacked conviction.

Monique shrugged her shoulders. “Duke is my friend. And that right there—” she pointed toward Kristina’s belly “—is some straight-up bullsh—”

“Mo,” Pablo hushed her. He wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Monique mumbled. “But you know you’re wrong for coming up here like this.”

In desperation to speak with Macy, Duke shook his head no. He looked back around for her, but she was gone. Thinking he spied her being escorted through the kitchen doors by that Lawrence guy, Duke turned an angry stare at Kristina, who was still giggling there, enjoying the spotlight. Choking her right now would not be the right thing to do. The paparazzi were shouting out questions left and right.

“Duke, is that why you left her?”

“Duke, who’s the new lady in your life?”