Children run past with red noses and chocolate-covered fingers.
Slowly, but steadily, the holiday spirit begins toease Ember. I’ve been watching her as discreetly as I can, because I can sense Calypso’s hostility toward her. After all, she knows my eye is wandering.
I feel like a pervert. I’m forty-five years old. A grown man. I have a woman with me, but I’m leering at Ember.
Freja and Jonathan are wrapped in each other as they part from our small group in search of a cashmere shawl she wants to buy for a friend back home.
Aksel and Ember walk a little ahead of Calypso and me. She’s holding on to me for dear life. I know we’ll have to have a conversation. I know I made a mistake asking her to join me. Now, in the stark light of snow and moonlight, I know I brought Calypso along as a defense in case Ember was in Chamonix. The realization wraps itself around me like a vice. Each time I saw Ember since we ended, I’ve been like this, waiting to catch glimpses of her. The fact that I ended us, lulled me into thinking I was over her, but I’m not. The evidence is right there for anyone who’s looking. Calypso, apparently, is.
“I’m so glad you asked me to come along,” Calypso says, her cheek resting against my arm while I watch Ember, who is examining a hand-painted ornament.
She buys a tiny wooden owl for Anika, who, according to Aksel, is obsessed with them.
I look away when Ember laughs at a vendor with a long white beard in the next stall. I look back to see her accept a cube of nougat that he offers for her totaste.
“Merci beaucoup.” Her French accent is fluid, Parisian-clean.
The vendor beams.“Vous êtes trop gentille, mademoiselle.”
“What do you think of Chamonix?” I ask Calypso, wanting very much not to bethatman, the one who is interested in the woman who isn’t hanging on his arm.
“It’s lovely. And the chalet is…well, gorgeous.” We wait by a soap stall while Aksel and Ember rummage around.
“Do you want to buy something?” I ask, releasing my arm from her death grip, feeling slightly suffocated.
“Maybe you should buymesomething,” she challenges.
Yep! We need to talk. I’d been clear with her that this trip was for fun and meant nothing. And yet…here we are.
“The lavender one,” I hear Ember say. “Latika loves lavender.”
“Are you getting anything for yourself or only for others?” Aksel asks his sister.
I let out a long breath, shaking my head slowly, and drop my gaze to Calypso. “You’re an independent woman. You don’t need a man to buy you fuck all.”
She sends a glare my way that could light a fuse. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’refriends, Cali.” I keep my voice down, both to prevent Aksel or Ember from hearing us and as a warning to Calypso to do the same.
“And? Friends can’t buy friends presents?”
“We’re notthatkind of friends.”
“You mean like you are with Ember?” There’s something harsh in her eyes. I don’t like it.
I can’t see what reason she has to be jealous.
We’re not even exclusive—not officially. I haven’t been with anyone else, but that’s less about commitment and more about logistics. I barely have time to manage one woman, let alone two.
“The Rousseaus are like family. I’ve told you that.”
“And you brought me here, so what am I supposed to think?” she hisses.
“Hey, Ransom, isn’t your mother a big fan of opals? They have a whole antique jewelry collection here,” Aksel calls out.
I wave to him and look at Calypso pointedly. I don’t want to hurt her feelings or create a scene. She’s going to be here through the fucking New Year, and I need this to go smoothly. “Calypso?—”
She bites her bottom lip, eyes clouded. “Just tell me, Ransom, are you using me?”
