Ripped (Miller Sisters 1)

> ‘He arranged for a car to drive us home from the wedding so you didn’t have to face the guests. That must have cost him a fortune.’

And I’d already tucked the money into the pocket of his Tom Ford. I didn’t want to be in debt to Nico. ‘He did it because he wanted to get us out of there. I’d already ruined the wedding.’

‘He rescued you when everyone else stood around gawping.’ My sister had stopped, too. Snow settled on her blonde hair. ‘He gave you his jacket. He didn’t have to do that.’

I frowned. ‘He didn’t want me naked in a church.’

My sister bent gracefully and scooped up a handful of snow, forming it into a snowball. ‘Who gave you a lift home the night you invited a load of us to celebrate your new job and Charlie proceeded to ignore you and get wasted?’

‘Nico.’ That evening had been the beginning of the end for Charlie and me. He’d proposed the day after, as an alternative to taking the job. I’d thought he was still drunk and kidding. Turned out he was sober and dead serious. He saw marriage to him as a preferable career option. ‘Nico, but he was driving past my house anyway.’

I waited for her to say ‘yes, you’re right’, but instead she watched me steadily and suddenly I wondered what explanation Nico had given his sister. Maybe he’d told her it hadn’t been his fault, that he’d been assaulted by my bare breasts and had merely been defending himself. He was a lawyer. I was pretty sure he could plead self-defense better than anyone.

On the other hand he didn’t strike me as the sort of man who made excuses.

Take him or leave him.

I’d tried to take him and look where that had got me.

I slid my arm through Rosie’s and resolved to stop thinking about him. ‘Let’s talk about something else.’ I’d never spent so long thinking about a man I wasn’t even in a relationship with. ‘So far my resolution to have emotionless sex isn’t turning out so well. Maybe I should have just gone for something more traditional like losing weight and getting fit.’

‘You’re already fit, and you’re not supposed to start your resolution until the New Year. Perhaps you’ll meet someone cute tomorrow.’ Something in the way she said it made me turn my head suspiciously.

‘Who have you invited? Please don’t tell me it’s that journalist guy.’

‘Just all our usual friends and a few others.’ She was studying a gingerbread house in the window of our favorite bakery. ‘Should we buy that?’

‘If you buy any more food there won’t be room for the guests. Rosie, who exactly is coming tomorrow?’

‘I never know until they knock on the door. You know what it’s like—not everyone confirms.’ She didn’t look at me. The year before she’d invited an entire class from her gym. They were all kicking in our living room.

We wandered on, staring in windows. I thought how much I loved London. We lived in a great area, with shops, markets and lively restaurants on our doorsteps. Our apartment was on the top floor of a beautiful red-brick Victorian house in the trendy part of Notting Hill. The streets were really pretty here and we were round the corner from Portobello market and an easy walk from Kensington Gardens. Loads of our friends lived nearby.

I wondered where Nico lived. Had he gone home to Italy for Christmas?

I hoped he didn’t need his jacket.

‘Hey, wake up. It’s been snowing all night.’

I burrowed under the covers, resenting my sister’s energy levels. ‘It’s too early.’

‘It’s Christmas. We have to open our stockings and there’s loads to do.’

‘Only because you insist on inviting half the world to lunch.’ I emerged from under the covers and looked out of my attic window.

London was covered in another deep coating of sparkling snow. It almost was a fairy tale, except I had to get up and cook Christmas lunch for a bunch of people I’d probably never met before when all I wanted to do was lie in a heap, watch back-to-back TV and try to forget about the disastrous wedding.

Rosie sprang onto the bed and crossed her legs, her daisy pajamas a cheerful, springlike rebellion against the winter weather. ‘Do you mind? Would you rather I didn’t do this?’

I was about to confess that one year it might be nice to just eat turkey sandwiches and flop in front of the TV when I saw the look of excitement in her eyes and knew I would never, ever, stop her doing this. And anyway, I understood why she did it. We couldn’t have a proper ‘family Christmas’ so she had a ‘friend Christmas’ instead.

Rosie was determined to create the life she wanted to live and I admired that.

‘I think it’s great.’ And I did. Because of my sister, no one we knew spent Christmas on their own. Everyone with nowhere to go was invited, which meant that some years our apartment was pretty crowded, but I didn’t really have a problem with that.

‘Are you sure?’ She dragged the stockings onto the bed. ‘I wondered whether you wouldn’t rather just have a quiet day.’

‘Not in a million years.’