The Italian Billionaire's New Year Bride

She turned to the door where Al, one of the joiners, was standing. His tool chest was in his hand and he was already wearing his jacket. She looked at her watch.

“Seven o’clock? Really? I had no idea. Al, I’m sorry. It’s New Year’s Eve. You should have gone home an hour ago.”

Al shrugged. “I was in the middle of things, but I’m going to head off now. Family party. The snow is getting worse. Where do you live? I’m in Hoboken. Can I drop you somewhere?”

Phoebe shook her head swiftly. “No, of course not. I’m fine. I have my car.”

Al raised his eyebrows. “Be careful out there. I’m not sure your car is designed for roads covered in snow. And it already looks as if some of the New Year revelers are out.”

She gave a smile and nodded. “No problems.”

Al disappeared and thirty minutes later Phoebe had finally decided on a plan for the library. She’d never been a fan of New Years. Her mom had let her know well in advance that she was having a glass of wine with a neighbor, then going home to bed. Phoebe had no reason to rush back into the city and experience the Times Square madness. She walked through to the kitchen with her sketch pad in her hands. The window ledge of the kitchen was stacked with snow. Phoebe wrinkled her brow and sat the pad down on the large kitchen table. Maybe she should head home—that snow was deeper than she’d expected.

She grabbed her bag and jacket and headed to the front door. The sky was already black and the snow was swirling around. Her Mini was coated in a thick layer of it. She smiled. Most New Yorkers saw no need for a car. Transport in the city was good. But Phoebe’s interior design job meant she frequently needed to travel further afield.

She’d watched a movie years ago that featured three of these cars and had dreamed of one ever since. When she’d found a second-hand one—that came from the UK—a few months ago, she’d had to buy it.

The driveway was thick with ice and Phoebe practically skidded as she headed to the car. She jumped inside and started the engine. The car was always reliable and turned over first time. But as she moved the car into first gear—she’d finally got used to the stick shift—the wheels spun in the snow. She tried again, and again, but the car didn’t move.

Somewhere in the distance fireworks exploded in the dark sky. It seemed that the Hampton parties had started already. People weren’t waiting for the stroke of midnight for the fun to start. She could only imagine the chaos around Times Square right now with people crushing in, waiting to see the famous ball drop. Did she really want to head back there?

She sighed and leaned back in her seat as the thick flakes of snow continued to fall. She stared back at the house. Just as well she loved the place—looked as if she’d have to stay.

Phoebe scrambled back out of the car and into the house. Now the work crew had all left it was amazing how much her footsteps echoed through the house. She pulled out her phone and searched for the nearest pizza place—thank goodness it was still open. Two minutes later she’d ordered, warning their delivery driver about the driveway.

She glanced at her phone and sent a quick text to her mother. It would be so easy to sit down and spend all night on social media, but it wasn’t really what she wanted to do. None of the TVs in the house was currently working. The satellite company wasn’t scheduled to arrive until next week.

She smiled. Of course. The library. The perfect place to spend a snow-filled evening. It was stacked with multiple shelves of books, accessible by an old-style set of moving steps. In a way, it was the perfect place for her to see in the New Year.

She grabbed the bag she carried with her. Unlike some interior designers she always had a change of clothes so she could do as much physical work as possible. It only took ten minutes to head upstairs and shower and change into the gray sweatpants and long-sleeved pink top she had with her. Comfort first. The bed that she’d made up earlier looked good. Only thing was, the room was a little cold. The heating system was something she’d have to look at the next day. It might be a bit chilly, but staying here wouldn’t be such a hardship.

She headed back down the stairs and spent fifteen minutes trying to light the fire in the library. Eventually she conceded defeat and did an Internet search and watched a video that showed her how to do it. Five minutes later she finally had the flicker of flames, followed by the arrival of her pizza. The delivery guy gave her a wry smile. “Just as well we have a four-by-four. Your driveway doesn’t take any prisoners. And I’m heading home now.”

Phoebe nodded and smiled as she paid him and gave him a big tip. “Thanks so much for this. Happy New Year. Drive safely.”