SUSAN MEIER - One Winter's Night - The Twelve Dates of Christmas / Frozen Heart, Melting Kiss / A Cadence Creek Christmas

She glanced around. “Look, just go alone. You’ll be fine. And I’ll be fine. I can get myself home. I’m not sure where the subway is, but I can find it.”

Before either Norman or Ricky could react, she shoved open her car door and jumped out.

He scrambled out after her. “Whoa! Whoa! Wait!”

“Forget it.”

The whole situation closed in on her. Smiling for people she didn’t know. Spending time with a guy who clearly didn’t like her back. And missed opportunities. Obvious times he could have kissed her or been kind to her that he’d backed away from. She’d poured her heart out to him, not just because the conversation lent itself to her being honest, but because she wanted him to know her.

But he didn’t want her to know him, and he certainly didn’t want to know her. He’d listened to her story with bare minimum curiosity, and when she was done talking he hadn’t consoled her. Leaving her empty. Feeling like no one. Nothing.

Who’d have thought going out with someone could make her so lonely?

Her arm suddenly jerked back and she was spun around.

“I made a mistake by not calling today to tell you what to wear. I’m sorry. We’ll go home. You can change.”

Her ridiculous tears spilled over. “It’s too late now. By the time we’d get back, they’d be halfway through dinner.” She swiped at her tears. “Just go. Go see your friends. Have fun.”

He tugged her arm to bring her closer. “At least let Norman take you home.”

Fresh tears flooded her eyes. Somewhere deep inside her, she’d hoped he’d take her home. Ignore what she said about going to the party without her and comfort her instead.

But that was stupid. He didn’t like her. He didn’t want to like her. She was a hired date. It was okay to be upset that she was in the wrong outfit, but she couldn’t be upset that he wasn’t giving something that wasn’t part of their deal.

Once again, she probably looked insane to him.

They walked to the car in silence, across the shiny rain-wet pavement. White Christmas lights adorned the trees lining the exclusive street. Huge evergreen wreaths with red and green plaid ribbons and shiny red Christmas balls decorated the double-door front entrance of Binnie and Dennis’s building.

When they reached the car, Ricky opened the door for her. She slid inside and he closed the door behind her.

The sound was so final that her heart beat out a fearful tattoo. What had she done? By not going to this dinner party with him, she was proving he didn’t need her anymore. He could go alone.

She groaned. She needed the job going out with him could provide. She needed his connections. And now she was throwing it all away because she’d worn the wrong dress?

She leaned back on the seat. That wasn’t it. His not telling her about the party was a symptom of the bigger thing he wouldn’t tell her. His tragedy.

He’d called her a friend.

But he didn’t share his secrets.

And she liked him.

But most days he was only nice to her because he had to be. And he hadn’t cared when she’d told him her secrets.

Yet she liked him.

A lot.

Felt some kind of soul connection that he obviously didn’t feel.

That was the real humiliation. Longing for something that he didn’t see.

The limo door suddenly opened. Ricky slid inside.

She sat up. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you home. I called Binnie and explained you weren’t feeling well and bowed out.”

“What?”

“I bowed out.” He studied her face. “I can see something’s really wrong.”

And he cared?

She sniffed. Hope tried to nudge in, but she reminded herself of the truth and quashed it. If he didn’t care that her husband had died and her parents had disowned her, he certainly wouldn’t want to know that she felt left out, rejected, because he wouldn’t confide in her. And she absolutely wouldn’t tell him that she was falling for him. That would be the ultimate humiliation.

Wiping her eyes, she stuck with the convenient. “It’s pretty bad to be the only woman in a gown at a dinner party. It would make me look stupid...clueless about social conventions.”

He winced. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.”

Norman started the car and pulled out into the street.

Ricky settled back on the seat. “It feels weird to be going home.”

It didn’t to her. The sooner she got away from him, the sooner she could cry, call herself every kind of fool and splurge by drinking one of the precious cups of hot cocoa she’d squirreled away for nights like this.

“I mean, I’m dressed and you’re dressed.” He turned and caught her gaze. He smiled slightly. “Seems like a waste.”

“I can wear this dress tomorrow.” She glanced out the window, then faced him again. The crying might have been her fault. Might have been an overreaction. Might have made her look even more foolish than she already did to him. But forgetting to tell her how to dress? That was his fault. “Unless we’re going to a dinner party tomorrow.”

“I’ll check the invitation when I get home and call you.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

He cleared his throat. “I still don’t think we should just go home.”

“The deal was twelve parties.”

“I know. But missing one is sort of reneging on the deal.” He glanced at her. “If you enjoy them.”

She picked at her cape. “Sometimes I do.” When he was himself. A normal guy. Which, lately, wasn’t often.

“At least let me buy you dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

But even as she said the words her stomach growled.

“I think you are hungry.”

“Stop feeling sorry for me!” The shout was out before she could stop it. “For Pete’s sake! You hate people feeling sorry for you, so you should damn well understand I hate people feeling sorry for me!”

He grimaced. “Got it.”

Shame filled her again. She didn’t know why she was so emotional tonight, but she was. And she needed to get away from him.

She turned to the window and looked out at the city decorated for the holidays, the festive lights that seemed to be mocking her.

“So if you could go anywhere you wanted to tonight, where would it be?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re not going to drop this, are you?”

“I always try to make up for my mistakes.”

So now she was a mistake? “Terrific.”

“Where would you want to go...if you could go anywhere you wanted?”

She was halfway tempted to tell him Paris just to shut him up. But what if he actually took her there? She wasn’t risking that. Imagine how much she could embarrass herself across the pond? No, thanks. Enough New Yorkers thought she was a sad girl with puppy dog eyes. She didn’t need to add Europeans to the list.

She scoured her brain for somewhere reasonable to tell him but somewhere he’d nonetheless refuse.

When it came to her, she smiled.

“What I’d really like is a carriage ride in Central Park.”

He sniffed. “It’s raining.”

“I know. Drat. Stupid suggestion.” She sighed. “Might as well just go home.”

He pulled out his cell phone. “Now, hold on. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He hit a button. “David? Can you do me a favor and arrange a carriage ride?” He paused, then laughed. “Right now, actually.” He paused again, waiting a minute or two before he said, “South entrance? Great. Thanks.”

“So it looks like we have a carriage.”

She gaped at him. “It’s raining!”

“It’s also what you want.”

She sighed. The one time she really and truly didn’t want him to be nice to her, when she wanted him to be his usual self-absorbed self so she could just go home and wallow in her own misery, he decided to be nice.