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of a console table. I threw it against the wall, shattering it into tiny pieces. The blooms exploded, and red and yellow petals floated down to the floor and nestled amongst the broken glass.

Chapter Eight

    M y head pounded as I sat up – the after–effects of half a bottle of whiskey I’d downed the night before in attempts to drown my sorrows. I moved slowly. With each step the contents of my head sloshed around inside my skull.
    I looked out the window at another miserable winter’s day, just like every other. And just like every year previous, snow had failed to make an appearance on Christmas day.
    Dammit! I could’ve been on a sandy white beach, surrounded by women, and yet I’d stayed in the hopes Aimee would return, waiting for her to walk back in through the door.
    I told myself I wouldn’t go after her, but my resolution was quickly crumbling away. After three days I decided enough was enough. I had to see her, for a moment at least, to make sure she knew all the facts. Not to mention, I did after all have a Christmas gift to give her… one she’d never forget. One that would solve practically all our worries. At least that’s what I hoped.
    After tidying myself up to look semi–respectable, leaving a full day’s worth of stubble covering my cheeks, I had Steve pull the car around.
    “Chamberlin Tower, sir?”
    “You read my mind, Steve,” I said as he pulled open the car door for me.
    I almost felt a pang of guilt keeping Steve on staff for Christmas Day, but then I remembered how much I was paying him.
    “I left the file on the back seat for you. It contains everything you need.”
    “Good work. I think you’re due a bonus.”
    “Not at all, sir. Just doing my job.”
    I nodded, slipped into the car and picked up the file. I flipped through the documents, studying each one as we drove to our destination. Perfect, I thought. If this all worked out as I planned, Steve would be getting that bonus, whether he liked it or not.
    ***
    “You’re late,” my father said in greeting, rising from his seat on wobbly legs.
    Loretta put down her fork and looked up. “We didn’t think you were coming.”
    They could’ve been posing for a catalogue. The three of them sat around the main dining table that brimmed full of Christmas cheer; a cosy little family, perfect in every way, and here I was, about to shatter that pretty picture.
    “Sorry to disappoint you, Loretta. Time got away from me. Please accept my apologies for my tardiness,” I said as I sat down in the chair directly opposite Aimee. She stiffened visibly, straightening in her seat as my eyes swept over her. I caught my breath as I took her in; she looked amazing in a body–hugging red sweater–dress, tiny crimson bows dotted all over the sparkly material. She studiously avoided my gaze.
    “Oh not at all, Lex. We’re glad you could make it. I’m surprised you didn’t bring Adrianna,” Loretta shot back.
    “Mom!” Aimee said and glared at Loretta.
    “What? I thought they’d gotten back together? They’ve been in all the tabloids lately,” Loretta replied. “Can’t help but see their names together, splashed all over the place.”
    “You know damn well they haven’t,” Aimee scolded.
    “Loretta, my dear…” My father’s hand reached across the table to rest upon his wife’s arm, clearly demanding that she drop the subject.
    “My mistake, you know I just look at the photos; I don’t pay attention to the story,” she continued, fluttering her hands in the air.
    Loretta, you’re playing a dangerous game, I thought, and smiled at her. On the surface she seemed genuine, but beneath that glossy exterior there was nothing but lies, deceit and pure deviousness. Which would soon come to an end if I had my way.
    Changing the subject, addressing me as if I were a child, Loretta asked, “So, Lex. Get anything good for Christmas?”
    God, how I despised this woman. I bit my tongue; I couldn’t reveal my true intentions too