She looked out of the window. ‘I love Christmas—especially when it snows. It makes it just a little more magical. I love when night falls and you can look out across the dark city and see snow-covered roofs. I always automatically want to watch the sky to see if I can spot Santa’s sleigh.’
‘Aren’t you a little old for Santa?’ Her eyes were sparkling. She really did love the magic of Christmas. The thing that for the last five years he’d well and truly lost.
It made him realise how sad he’d been. How much he’d isolated himself. Sure, plenty of people didn’t like Christmas. Lots of people around the world didn’t celebrate it.
But, when it had been a part of your life for so long, and then something had destroyed it, the reminder of what it could be circulated around his mind.
She set down her knife and fork. ‘Finlay Armstrong, are you telling me there’s no Santa?’ She said it in such a warm, friendly voice that it pulled him back from his thoughts without any regrets.
He pushed his plate away. ‘Grace Ellis, I would never say something like that.’
She wagged her finger at him as her phone beeped. ‘Just as well. In that case I won’t need to tell you off.’ She glanced at her phone. ‘Oh, great, the light bulbs have arrived.’ She reached around for her pink coat and woolly hat. Her eyes were shining again. ‘Come on, Finlay. Let’s light up The Armstrong!’
How on earth could he say no?
CHAPTER FIVE
‘I HAVE THE perfect dress for you.’ Mrs Archer clapped her hands together. ‘You’ll love it!’
‘What?’ Grace was stunned out of her reverie. She’d spent the last few days in a fog. A fog named Finlay Armstrong.
He’d managed to commandeer staff from every department and they’d spent two hours—Finlay included—replacing the light bulbs on the external display. Five specially phoned-in maintenance men had hung the purple and white strips down either side of the exterior of The Armstrong.
As they’d stood together on the opposite side of the street to get a better look, Finlay had given her a nudge. ‘It does look good, Grace. You were right.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Thank you.’
The closed-off man who apparently had a reputation as a recluse was coming out of his shell. Except Finlay hadn’t been in a shell. Grace got the impression he’d been in a dark cave where the only thing he’d let penetrate was work.
He was smiling more. His shoulders didn’t seem quite so tense. Since their first meeting he’d never shouted, never been impolite. Only for the briefest second did she see something cloud his eyes before it was pushed away again. Even Frank had commented on the changes in the last few days.
She nudged Finlay back. ‘Just wait until next year. I’ll pick a whole new colour scheme and bankrupt you in light bulbs!’ She’d been so happy, so excited that things had worked out she’d actually winked at him.
Winked. All she could do right now was cringe.
But the wink hadn’t scared him off. Every time she’d turned around in the last two days, Finlay had been there—asking her about something, talking to her about other pieces of interior design work she might be interested in. Getting her to sit down and chat.
They’d had another lunch together. Around four coffees. And a makeshift dinner—a Chinese take-away in the office one night.
She’d even found herself telling him about the Elizabethan-style chairs she’d found in a junk shop and spent weeks re-covering and re-staining on her own.
Last night she hadn’t slept a wink. Her brain had been trying to work out what on earth was going on between them. Was she reading this all wrong? Had it really been that long since she’d dated that she couldn’t work out the signals any more?
‘Ta-da!’
Mrs Archer brought her back to the present day by swinging open a cupboard door and revealing what lay behind it.
Wow.
It glimmered in the early-morning winter light. A full-length silver evening gown in heavy-duty satin with a bodice and wide straps glittering with sequins. Around the top of the coat hanger was a fur wrap. She was almost scared to touch it.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Alice Archer. ‘It’s not real fur. But it probably cost ten times as much as it should.’
Grace’s heart was pounding in her chest. She’d forgotten Alice had offered to find her something for the party. When Finlay had given her that exorbitant cheque the other day she’d almost squealed. Bills had been difficult since her grandmother had died.
Her grandmother and late grandfather had had small pensions that had contributed to the upkeep of the flat. Keeping up with bills was tough on her own. There was no room for any extras—any party dresses. She’d actually planned on going to some of the charity shops around Chelsea later to see if she could find anything to wear tonight.