Chapter 11
A bemused smile crossed Tabitha’s face as the Christmas wrapping dropped to the floor to reveal an over-sized tea cup. Since moving to London from Brooklyn, New York, Tabitha hadn’t been able to overcome her coffee addiction nor embrace the Brits’ love of tea. It seemed her work colleagues noticed her unwillingness to succumb to the lure of the constant cups of the tea they downed throughout the working day.
Her PA, Yvonne, was the one person present in the company who knew Tabitha inside out. From the pleased expression on Yvonne’s face as Tabitha acknowledged the humor behind the gift, she knew exactly who her Secret Santa was. Unable to resist teasing her personal assistant, Tabitha flashed an exaggerated wink to signal she knew the gift was from her. Yvonne immediately appeared crushed that Tabitha had accurately discovered the person responsible for her present. Huffing, Yvonne slunk around the external circle of her team’s colleagues to make her way to her boss’s side.
“You don’t know for certain it’s from me,” the eighteen-year old whispered heatedly.
“I do now!” grinned Tabitha. “That might have been a conspiratorial wink to let you know I thought it was a suitable choice given my coffee addiction. You stomping over here frustrated, assuming I’d correctly deducted the identity of my Secret Santa has confirmed my suspicions.”
“You sound like Sherlock Holmes,” hissed Yvonne.
“I think a feisty, but classy black woman from New York may have made a very good Sherlock Holmes.”
“You’d look silly in a deerstalker cap,” muttered Yvonne.
“I don’t think smoking a briar pipe would’ve been particularly cool either,” agreed Tabitha.
The girls giggled.
“It’s a great present,” said Tabitha sincerely.
“Even if you will only use it for coffee.”
“You knew that before you selected it.”
“I wonder who got me these reindeer socks?” mulled Yvonne.
“Let’s just hope it was a thoughtless gift, rather than someone from our department subtly telling you that you suffer from smelly feet.”
Yvonne’s blue eyes widened and her heart shaped mouth formed a perfect o.
“Joke,” asserted Tabitha.
“I hope so,” replied Yvonne, wrinkling her nose. “Anyway it’s nice to see you smiling. Laughing at my paltry attempts to remain incognito, and speculating that someone is offended by the whiff of my shoes seems to have put you in the high spirits. You’ve been the embodiment of the Grinch since the 1st of December.”
Tabitha’s face set in stone again.
“Sorry,” pacified Yvonne, patting her boss’s arm.
“It’s fine. It’s just been a really hard six weeks, that’s all. I’ve no idea when he’s due back and I’ve no idea what’s happening with Christmas, either. I just have this sinking feeling it’ll be me, alone in my one bedroom flat on Christmas Day, with no one to share the day with. I hope McDonald's is open because I’m not going to be cooking Christmas dinner for one; that’d be depressing beyond words.”
“If it gets to that point, then you’ll be having Christmas Day with me and my family,” said Yvonne earnestly, “but I don’t think Freddie will leave you in the lurch like that.”
Tabitha shut her eyes momentarily to let herself picture the impossibly handsome Frederick Ravensdale. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered the fire in his touch. Shaking her head to return to the present, she studied her friendly and faithful PA. She was lucky to have a friend in the big-hearted girl. The invitation was lovely. However the thought of imposing on strangers on a family day, when she was heartsick for her currently absent boyfriend, would make for an uncomfortable environment all round. Tabitha had no intention of spoiling Yvonne’s Christmas on account of her own heartache.
“I’m not sure Freddie will have much choice.”
“Is it really that unlikely he’ll be back for Christmas?”
“It’s a possibility I can’t afford to rule out. It transpires there’s an abundance of red tape involved in setting up a branch of Hastings-Bass in South Africa. It’s as if the government officials don’t want to be wearing Hastings-Bass suits.”
“That’s unheard of,” Yvonne announced in mock outrage.
“I know. He’s been there over a month now. A snail could’ve made better progress than Freddie has. Not that it’s his fault, but--”
“But you miss him, ‘cause you’re in love.”
Yvonne dragged the word “love” out, eyes rolling and tongue poking out as she said it.
“Shut up,” moaned Tabitha, giving her PA a hefty shove.
The blonde, blue-eyed girl laughed. She was incredibly pretty in her simple, short black dress adorned with glittery sequins on the dress’s hem and neckline. The younger boys in the office would be making a beeline for her later on. Tabitha suddenly felt protective of her PA. She wasn’t looking forward to the pending Christmas party, but at least keeping an eye on her innocent PA gave her some sense of purpose for attending.
“I do hope you cheer up a bit before now and when the taxis arrive to pick us up,” bleated Yvonne half seriously.
Tabitha wanted to stay in the doldrums, but there was no denying her PA’s ability to lift even her darkest of moods.
“I’m sure after a few drinks I’ll be the life and soul of the party.”
Tabitha joined her marketing department in consuming the champagne and orange cocktails the company had laid on as part of a celebratory breakfast before their official Christmas party started at lunchtime. By the time the receptionist announced the transport had arrived, Tabitha was more relaxed and engaging easily with her colleagues and subordinates.
Traipsing down the stairs to the line of black taxis waiting outside the front of the Heritage office building, Yvonne stuck close to her boss’s side. She admired Tabitha’s bold taste in fashion. The tight-fitting bodice of the one sleeve dress was made entirely of beaded sequins and showed off every curve of Tabitha’s ample cleavage and tiny waist. The halter neck, designed to accommodate the one sleeve and alternate bare shoulder, resulted in the back of the dress exposing the flawless chocolate tones of Tabitha’s skin. The sequined bodice ran into a pastel blue chiffon, floor length skirt which contained a slit running to the mid thigh of Tabitha’s toned left leg. Unlike the majority of her female colleagues who opted for a safe and slimming black number, Tabitha loved a splash of color and stood out because of her boldness.
With eyes only for Freddie, Tabitha was oblivious to the admiring stares from the men and envious glances from the women. She was focused on making sure she wasn’t a party pooper and seizing the opportunity to get merry and enjoy the company of her PA outside the workplace.
As the cars drew up at Cafe de Paris off Leicester Square, Tabitha was unimpressed with the frontage of the venue. Next door to the Grosvenor Casino, the gold writing on a black background gave no hint of what was in store upon entry.
Following the throng of employees from Hastings-Bass down the stairs, Tabitha could hear coos of approval as to the inside of Cafe de Paris. When she was finally afforded a view of the club her eyes were distracted from the plush interior with tones and decor associated with traditional French cabaret and burlesque. Standing by the bar, studying the trickle of people tentatively stepping in after leaving their coats in the cloakroom, was Frederick Ravensdale.