Sophie Pembroke - The Unexpected Holiday Gift

Except...she knew his family. She knew his father, and could already picture exactly the sort of Christmas he’d want.

Maybe Jacob wasn’t so crazy after all. But that didn’t mean she had to say yes.

She had her own family to think about this Christmas—her and Ivy, celebrating together in gingerbread-man pyjamas and drinking hot chocolate with Merry on Christmas Eve. That was how it had been for the last four years, and the way it would be this Christmas too, thank you very much. She wasn’t going to abandon her daughter to go and arrange Christmas deep in the Highlands, however much Jacob was willing to pay. Especially not with the Harrisons’ gala coming up so soon afterwards.

‘No,’ she said again, just to make it doubly clear. ‘I’m sorry. It’s impossible.’

Except...a small whisper in the back of her mind told her that this could be her chance. Her one opportunity to see if he’d really changed. If Jacob Foster was ready to be a father at last. If she could risk telling him about Ivy, introduce them even, without the fear that Jacob would treat his daughter the way Clara’s own father had treated her.

Even twenty years later, the memory of her father walking out of the front door, without looking back to see Clara waving him goodbye, still made her heart contract. And Jacob had been a champion at forgetting all about his wife whenever work got too absorbing, walking out and forgetting to look back until a deal was signed or a project tied up.

She wouldn’t put Ivy through that, not for anything. She wanted so much more than that for her daughter. Clara might work hard but she always, always had time for her child and always put her first. Ivy would never be an afterthought, never slip through the cracks when something more interesting came up. Even if that meant she only ever had one parent.

But Jacob had come here to organise a family Christmas. The Jacob she’d been married to wouldn’t have even thought of that. Could he really have changed? And could she risk finding out?

‘This Christmas I’d like to have a dad, please.’ Ivy’s whispered words floated through her mind.

She shook her head again, uncertain.

‘What if I promise you a divorce?’ Jacob asked.

For a moment, it was as if the rain had stopped falling outside, as if the world had paused in its turning.

A divorce. She’d be completely free at last. No more imagining a life she no longer possessed. Her new life would truly be hers, clear and free.

It was tempting.

But then reality set in. That divorce would cut the final tie between them—the last link between Ivy and her father. How could she do that before she even told Jacob he had a daughter?

Clara bit the inside of her cheek as she acknowledged a truth she’d long held at bay. It hadn’t just been Jacob holding up their divorce for five long years. If she’d wanted to push for it she could have, at any time. But she’d always known that she’d have to come clean about Ivy first...and she was terrified.

The risk was always, always there. Jacob might reject them both instantly and walk away, but she could cope with that, she hoped, as long as Ivy didn’t know, didn’t hurt. But what if he wanted to be involved? What if he wanted to meet her, to be a part of her life—and then ignored Ivy the same way he’d kept himself apart from Clara after they were married? What if he hurt Ivy with his distracted, even unintentional, neglect? Nothing had ever meant more to Jacob than his work—not even her. Why would Ivy be any different?

So even if he thought he wanted to be a father...could she really risk Ivy’s heart that way?

No. She had to be sure. And the only way to be certain was to spend time with him, to learn who he was all over again. Then she could decide, either to divorce him freely, or to let him into Ivy’s life, whichever was best for her daughter. That was all that mattered.

But to spend time with him she’d have to organise his perfect family Christmas. Could she really do that? With all her other clients, the Harrisons’ Charity Gala—and her own Christmas with Ivy? It was too much. And she was still too scared.

‘I’m sorry, Jacob. Really I am.’ She was; part of her heart hurt at the thought of James Foster suffering and her not being there to ease it. An even larger part, although she hated to admit it, stung at the idea of Jacob going through this without her too.

That’s not my place any more. It’s not my life.

She had to focus on the life she had, the one she’d built. Her new life for her and Ivy.

‘I can’t help you,’ she said, the words final and heavy.

Jacob gave her a slow, stiff nod. ‘Right. Of course.’ He turned away but as he reached the door he looked back, his eyes so full of sorrow and pain that Clara could have wept. ‘Please. Just think about it.’

I can’t. I can’t. I won’t. I... She nodded. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she promised and instantly hated herself.

This was why she’d had to leave. She could never say no to him.

* * *

I’ll think about it.

One year of marriage, five years of estrangement and now she was thinking. He supposed that was something.

Jacob paused briefly on the corner of the street, rain dripping down his collar, and watched from a distance as Clara locked up the offices of Perfect London and hurried off in the opposite direction. She was a woman on a mission; she clearly had somewhere far more important to be. Things that mattered much more in her life than her ex-husband.

Well. So did he, of course.

The office was deserted by the time he’d walked back across the river to it, but the security guard on duty didn’t look surprised to see him. Given how rarely Jacob made it to the London office, he wondered what that said about the legend of his work ethic.

But once he had sat at his desk he found he couldn’t settle. His eyes slid away from emails, and spreadsheets seemed to merge into one on the screen. Eventually, he closed the lid of his laptop, sat back in his chair and swung it around to take in the London skyline outside the window.

Was it just seeing Clara again that was distracting him? No. She didn’t have that kind of power over him any more. It was everything else in his life right now, most likely. His father’s illness more than anything.

His mobile phone vibrated on the glass desk, buzzing its way across the smooth surface. Jacob grabbed it and, seeing his younger sister’s name on the screen, smiled.

‘Heather. Why aren’t you out at some all-night rave or something? Isn’t that what you students do?’

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end of the phone.

‘We’re having a Christmas movie night at the flat,’ Heather said. ‘Mulled wine, mince pies, soppy movies and lots of wrapping paper. I was halfway through wrapping my stack of presents when it occurred to me that there was still one person who hadn’t got back to me about what they wanted...’

‘You don’t have to buy me anything,’ Jacob said automatically. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t buy whatever he wanted when he wanted it, anyway. And, besides, Heather, more than anyone, never owed him a gift. Her continued existence was plenty for him.

‘It’s Christmas, Jacob.’ She spoke slowly, as if to a slightly stupid dog. ‘Everyone gets a present. You know the rules. So tell me what you want or I’ll buy you a surprise.’

Only his sister could make a surprise gift sound like a threat. Although, given the tie she’d bought him last year, maybe it was.

‘A surprise will be lovely,’ he said, anyway. ‘Anything you think I’d like.’

‘You’re impossible.’ Heather sighed. ‘While I have you, when are you heading home for Christmas?’