Getting up to pour another glass of wine seemed like a much better idea, so that was exactly what she did.
Then, tossing her red dress on the bed and slipping into the hotel’s fluffy robe (instead of the sexy little negligee placed neatly on Gary’s pillow), she remembered the bag of clothes from the hospital and decided she should check his stuff was in order.
She didn’t like the way everything was bundled away in a bag on the floor; it almost made it seem like he was dead or something. No, much better to tidy it up and have all his clothes washed and ready for him when he got back.
Rachel picked up the plastic hospital bag and settled back on the bed. Taking everything out, she set his wallet on a nearby bureau, then hung up his leather jacket, which looked clean and undamaged, putting it neatly into the wardrobe.
His shirt was dirty and bloodstained from the head wound, as were his jeans, so they needed to go into the laundry. Rachel checked the pocket for anything that might be ruined in the wash. From his jeans, she pulled out a list, which, judging by what was scribbled on it, looked to be a Christmas shopping list.
In true Gary fashion, she thought, smiling as she read through it, there was one column for names and one column for corresponding stores, presumably where he’d either bought or intended to buy gifts.
Hmm…where was he planning to buy hers? Then, suddenly conscious that she was prying, Rachel set the list down on the nightstand beside her.
She switched on the TV, turned off the bedside lamp, and took another taste of wine, this one more akin to a gulp than a sip.
She glanced toward the list again, her interest well and truly piqued about what Gary had in mind for her. Oh, what the hell, she reasoned, reaching for it again; it was just a list of stores. So what could it hurt?
Before Rachel knew it, the list was in her hands, and she had clicked the lamp back on to have a better look. At first glance, she didn’t see her name written down. At a second more careful look, she still didn’t see it. Frowning, she set it down.
Then it hit her. Ofcourseher name wasn’t on the list. Gary would no doubt have known exactly what he wanted to get her for Christmas, so why would he need to write it down? Silly.
With that, Rachel poured herself a second glass and a more generous serving. It was essential, really, since she was alone and worried in a New York hotel room on Christmas Eve.
Going back to the bed, she climbed under the covers, gently plopping the gifts she’d bought for Gary one by one onto the floor next to the bed.
First went the negligee, next the heavy box with the leather motorbike trousers in it, and third went the handcrafted wallet monogrammed with his initials.
Her gaze moved then to the pile of bags not more than twenty-five feet away from her. Inside one of those was presumably her unwrapped Christmas gift.
“No, I’m not going to look,” she said out loud, grabbing the television remote and starting to click through channels. Some of the show titles looked rather intriguing, and others not so much. “Yikes, glorified porn on Christmas Eve?” she muttered and kept clicking until she came uponIt’s a Wonderful Lifeabout halfway through.
Perfect.
By the time George was hearing bells ringing and believing, Rachel had the empty wine bottle in one hand and Gary’s list in the other. With tears streaming down her face (as they did every time she watched that film), she headed back to the couch, whereupon she promptly started matching gift bags with the names and stores on the list.
With each matching set she found, she moved the corresponding bag to a pile.
When she reached the end of the list, there was still a bag from Bergdorf Goodman with men’s clothes and some expensive-looking cuff links in it.
And then, more conspicuously, one small but gloriously familiar blue gift bag…
“Oh my goodness!” Rachel cried aloud. Her heart pounding in her chest, she checked the list again, turning the paper over and over in her hand.
Could this be hers? Had Garyreallybought her something from Tiffany’s?
He must have.
Rachel’s eyes sparkled even brighter than the festive lights outside. Checking her watch, she swallowed hard. Well, itwasnow officially Christmas, wasn’t it? She peeked expectantly inside the bag.
Only to spy the world-famous little blue box.
Chapter 7
Unable to sleep, Ethan got up at dawn and was standing at the window watching the sun come up over Central Park and the surrounding buildings.
In fact, he was up before Daisy on Christmas morning for the first time since she’d been old enough to be excited about it. Snow was gently falling, and he was sipping coffee, thanks to the Plaza’s in-room coffee maker. It was a picture-perfect New York Christmas morning, even if he was yawning after tossing and turning all night.
Ethan thought again about Daisy’s mother and smiled a little as the aroma took him back in time. Jane wasn’t enamored of his habit and had always insisted that if hehadto drink coffee, it should be organic beans or nothing. In turn, all the baby food for Daisy had been homemade and, yes, organic too. Jane had been an amazing mum, and he had a healthy, happy daughter because of her.
