It was purple.
Purple in a way he couldn’t even begin to find words for. He started to walk forward, straight towards the giant Christmas tree at the end of the foyer that was just pulling his attention like a magnet.
The traditional green tree was huge. It was lit up with purple lights and a few white twinkling ones. The large purple baubles and glass snowflake-style tree decorations reflected the purple light beautifully. The strange-style purple tinsel was wrapped tastefully amongst the branches. Along either wall were more purple lights. It was a strange effect. They drew you in. Drew your gaze and footsteps towards the tree. At intermittent points all along were snow globes of various sizes.
There was a choking noise beside him. Grace’s face was lit up with the purple lights, her hands clenched under her chin and her eyes looking as if they might spill tears any second.
‘What do you think?’ Her voice was pretty much a squeak.
He couldn’t speak yet. He was still getting over the shock.
Christmas had come to The Armstrong hotel.
She’d captured it. She’d captured the Christmas spirit without drowning him in it.
The tree was giant, but the effect of only having one colour made it seem more sleek and exclusive than he’d expected. The intermittent snow globes were focal points. Something people could touch, pick up and hold.
The dimmed lights were perfect. It bathed the whole area in the most magical purple light.
‘Finlay?’ This time there was a tremor in her voice.
He kept looking, kept looking at everything around him, before finally turning and locking gazes with Grace.
‘I think Santa got everything wrong,’ he said.
Her eyes widened. ‘What do you mean?’
Finlay laughed and opened his arms wide. ‘His grotto. Clearly, it should have been purple.’ He spun around, relishing the transformation of his hotel.
He didn’t just like it. He loved it.
Never, even in a million years, did he think he’d feel like this.
He picked up Grace and swung her around.
She was still in shock. She put her hands on his shoulders and let out a squeal. She was still looking for verification. She needed to hear the words out loud.
‘You like it? You think it’s good?’
He set her feet back down on the slate floor. ‘I don’t think it’s good—I think it’s fantastic!’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe you’ve done this. I can’t believe you’ve managed to capture just what I wanted for The Armstrong without...’
His voice tailed off. That wasn’t something to say out loud. That was part of his private thoughts.
She stepped in front of him again. This time the tension on her face and across her shoulders had disappeared. The expression on her face was one of compassion, understanding. She touched his arm. ‘Without taking you back to where you don’t want to be.’ She nodded. ‘I wanted this to be about something new for you. Something entirely different.’ She lowered her gaze. ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with memories. Not that there’s anything wrong with taking some time.’
His heart swelled. He knew so little about Grace. This woman, that he’d almost threatened to fire, that had stood up to him, teased him, and shown him compassion and made him feel things he hadn’t in years.
He was thinking things and feeling things that had been locked away inside for a long time.
He’d been so shut off. So determined not to let anything out—not to open himself up to the world of hurt that he’d felt before.
But things felt differently than he’d expected. The world outside didn’t feel quite so bad as before. He recognised things in Grace that he hadn’t expected to.
It was time to start making connections. Time to start showing interest in those around him. And he knew exactly where to start.
He reached down and took her hand. ‘I owe you more than a coat.’
She shook her head automatically. ‘No, you don’t. And that coat is beautiful. Completely impractical and the kind of thing I wear in one of my dreams. Thank you for that.’
Her dark brown eyes met his. ‘Every girl should get to be a princess some time.’
There was a little pang inside his chest. ‘Come to the staff party with me.’
She dropped his hand. ‘What?’ She looked truly shocked.
‘I mean it.’
Her mouth opened and then closed again.
‘Every year there is a pre-Christmas staff party at the hotel. I haven’t gone for the last five years. This year—it’s time for me to attend again.’ He shrugged. ‘I can’t promise I’ll dance. I can’t promise I’ll play Santa Claus.’ He gave her a serious nod. ‘But I can promise you there will be music, spectacular food and champagne. If you want to be treated like a princess, then come to the party with me.’