His pen hovered over the document as he paused to listen. The sentimental words about home and family stabbed at his scarred heart. “To each his own.”
She swept her dark bobbed hair behind her ear. “Although it never feels like the holiday season until that first snowflake falls. Don’t you think so?”
He frowned at her. “How long have you known me?”
“Almost eight years.”
“And by now I’d have thought you’d realize I don’t do holidays.”
“I...I just keep hoping—”
“Don’t. It’s not going to happen.” An awkward silence ensued as he glanced over a disbursement and then signed it.
“Oh. I almost forgot. These came for you.” She handed over two tickets for the Mistletoe Ball.
He accepted the tickets. Without bothering to look at them, he slipped them in a side desk drawer with other tickets from years gone by. When he glanced back at his assistant, unspoken questions reflected in her eyes. “What?”
Clara hesitated, fidgeting with the pen in her hand. “Why do you order tickets every year but then never use them?”
“Don’t you think it’s a worthy cause?” When Clara nodded, he continued. “I want to do my part.” His voice grew husky with emotion. “If everyone does their part, maybe they’ll find a cure for leukemia. The damn disease steals lives far too soon.” His hand tightened around the pen. “It leaves nothing but devastation in its wake.”
Clara’s eyes widened. “I...I agree. I, um, just can’t afford the tickets.”
Finn realized he’d said too much. No one knew he was the sole sponsor of the ball and that was the way he intended for it to remain. But he just couldn’t attend—couldn’t face the guilt. If it wasn’t for him and his actions, his mother and father would still be alive. They’d be attending the ball each year just like they’d always done in years past.
Finn pulled open the desk drawer and removed the tickets. “Here. Take them. It’d be better if they were used rather than sitting around gathering dust.”
Her gaze moved from the tickets to him. “But I couldn’t. You should give them to someone else.”
When she rattled off the names of people who headed up his various divisions and departments, he said, “I want you to have them.”
“Thank you.” She accepted the tickets with a hesitant smile.
“Now back to business. I hope this is the last of what I need to sign because we have a trip to prepare for.”
“A trip? When?”
“Tomorrow morning.” This wasn’t the first time he’d sprung a spur-of-the-moment trip on her. “And I’ll need you there—”
“But...” Clara worried her bottom lip.
“But what? Surely you can reschedule anything on my calendar for some time after the first of the year.”
“It’s not that.”
Color stained her cheeks as she glanced down at the tickets. She remained quiet, which was so unlike her. Something was definitely amiss and he didn’t like it, not one little bit. They were set to leave in the morning for his private island in the Caribbean for a secret business meeting. When it concluded, Clara would return to New York while he remained in the sun and sand until after the New Year—when life returned to normal and people were no longer gushing with the holiday spirit.
Clara’s continued silence worried him. He leaned back in his chair, taking in the worry lines bracketing her eyes. “What’s the problem?”
“I got engaged last night.” She held up her hand. A sparkly diamond now resided on her ring finger.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m sure you’ll have lots of planning to do after our trip—”
“Well, um...that’s the thing.” Her gaze dipped again. “We’re eloping this weekend.”
“What?” She couldn’t be serious. He had everything worked out. His business associates were meeting them on his private island in two days. “You can’t back out on me now.”
“I’m really sorry. But Steve, my fiancé, he, um...surprised me with tickets to fly to Vegas.”