Page 28

“We’re going to the Christmas market downtown,” Zander says. “We thought you might like to join us.”

“It’s going to be very festive,” Jarek adds, like he’s trying to twist my arm.

“And cold,” Pascal says. “So, dress warmly.”

I don’t need to be asked twice. I grab my coat, and we’re off.

The market is straight out of a Christmas movie. Rosy-cheeked vendors, twinkling lights, the smell of soup and melted chocolate in the cold air. Pascal gets us hot chocolate, and I wrap my freezing fingers around the cup.

He narrows his eyes when I shiver. “I told you to dress warmly.”

I shrug. “I thought grabbing my coat would be enough.”

Pascal rolls his eyes lightly and takes off his own coat to drape over my shoulders.

“Thanks, but you don’t need to do that. Now you’ll be cold.”

“I’ll survive,” he says. “I’m used to the cold.”

He takes one of my hands and wraps his palm around it. Instantly, my frozen fingers start to warm up.

“Somehow I doubt that, Pascal. You don’t fool me.”

He pulls his hand away like it’s no big deal. It is to me. I’m starting to think none of these guys want anyone finding out they’re actually good men under the alpha-hole act. They have private jets and New York penthouses, but around me, they don’t act like it.

They treat me like I matter, which is wild, considering I’m a struggling small business owner who’s several tax brackets below them.

Everywhere I look, there’s something I’d love to buy and can’t. Handmade jewelry, carved ornaments, candles that smell like pine. I window-shop anyway.

“These are so lovely!” I tell one of the artisan vendors as I try on a handcrafted bracelet.

She thanks me and tells me how much it costs.

“It’s definitely worth the price. The craftsmanship is stunning.” I take it off and hand it back to the vendor, not wanting to tell her that I can’t afford it.

“Do you want it?” Zander asks abruptly from beside me.

“No, no, it’s okay.” He can tell I’m broke, and it’s embarrassing. “I just think it’s pretty.”

At the next booth, I pick up a little rabbit figurine holding a wreath. It reminds me of the woods around the house.

“Want me to get that for you?” Jarek asks. “Something to remember us by.”

“That’s sweet, but no thanks,” I say, setting it down. “I just like looking.”

Eventually they stop asking, but I catch all three of them watching everything I pick up. I can’t accept gifts from them. They’ve already given me more than my contract covers. It’s not about the money. I just don’t want to owe anyone.

By the time we leave, my toes are numb and my cheeks hurt from smiling.

Back at the house, I sit by the fire in the study until I’ve thawed out. Then I go looking for the guys to thank them.

On the way, I pass my bedroom. The door is open. I’m sure I closed it before we left.

I poke my head in. The bracelet lies neatly on my bed. The rabbit holding a wreath. And every other thing I picked up at the market, like a charcuterie board of gifts.

I don’t know what to say, or even how to feel. They must have bought it all when I wasn’t looking and snuck it upstairs while I was by the fire.

A corner of paper sticks out from under the rabbit’s foot.