Will

The next morning Will stumbled out of bed. It was Christmas Eve and his level of regret had reached an all time high. What the hell had he been thinking last night? He still couldn’t quite believe he’d sent Emma home without kissing her. He knew it was the right thing to do, but sometimes he really wished he wasn’t the guy who always did the right thing. Where had it gotten him?

Alone on Christmas, that’s where. Well maybe not totally alone. Emma had invited him to spend Christmas with her family last night. But then again, that was before Will stupidly shut her down and sent her home when she was finally looking at him the way he’d always wished she would.

After a quick breakfast, Will dressed and decided to go knock on Emma’s door. It was the only way he’d get rid of the nagging feeling in his gut that he’d royally screwed up. Plus, he didn’t much feel like spending another minute alone in his apartment. It felt emptier than usual since he’d already sent the entire staff home to enjoy the holiday with their families. They at least deserved to be with family and loved ones even if Will couldn’t.

Sharon had been the hardest to convince, but he persuaded her after saying he’d be spending Christmas with Emma. Sharon was practically gushing as she served him breakfast and showed him where all the meals she’d prepared were. After a few more minutes of motherly fussing, she seemed satisfied that he would manage without her for a few days and headed out the door wishing him luck.

Will checked his reflection in the foyer mirror before stepping out into the hall. Was it ridiculous that he was this nervous to knock on Emma’s door? He suddenly wished he had one of her silly Tic Tacs. Get a grip, Will. She’s not gonna open the door and kiss you.

Will shook his head at himself. He seriously had to stop watching so many girly movies with Sharon. He mustered his courage and marched down the hall, knocking loudly on the door before he lost his nerve. It opened a moment later and Will was met with Colin’s glowing smile. “Hi, Will!”

“Hey, Colin. Is Emma here?”

He shook his little head and pouted. “She’s gone.”

Will’s stomach dropped twenty stories to the lobby. “Gone? Where did she go?”

Colin’s pout deepened. “She wouldn’t say.”

Shit! Why the hell didn’t he just kiss her last night? What if shutting her down had sent her running again? Christ! It was last year’s winter formal all over again.

“Colin,” a cheerful voice called from inside the apartment. “What did I say about answering the door for strangers?”

“It’s not a stranger, Mom. It’s just Will.”

Tara appeared behind Colin. She was a sight in a red dress with a plunging neckline. “Will, honey, how are you?”

“Hi, Miss Emerson. I’m well. And you?”

“Please call me Tara, honey. And we’re fabulous,” she said patting her baby bump. “How can I help you?”

“Oh, I was just stopping by to speak to Emma but it appears I missed her.”

Tara grinned. “Oh yes, she and Teddy left early this morning. Something about a Christmas surprise? They were both being quite mysterious. It was adorable.”

Will’s heart leapt. “So she’s not gone?”

“I should hope not. She told me she’d watch Colin while Teddy and I attend the Christmas Eve garden party tonight.”

“Oh, that’s great. Thank you, Miss Emerson, I mean, Tara.”

Will was already hurrying down the hall when Tara called after him. “I’ll tell her you stopped by.”

“Thank you!” Will jogged down the hall, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. It wasn’t over yet. He still had a chance. And he might even have a plan.

Emma

“Dad!” Emma gasped when they walked into the new penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue. “It’s phenomenal.”

The place was massive and nearly finished. It seemed the kitchen was the last piece of the puzzle. The dazzling marble counter tops and rich cabinets were installed, but there were wires and pipes sticking out where the appliances and sinks should be. As they walked further into the massive luxury suite, Emma noticed things were further along. She recognized pieces of furniture and art under layers of clear plastic and her heart leapt. They were from her old home. Her father hadn’t gotten rid of them after all.

Emma turned and threw her arms around his neck.

Her father’s stern face creased with a rare smile. “I take it you approve?”

“It reminds me of home,” she said beaming at him.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Come on, I can’t wait till you see your room,” he said leading the way.

Emma followed her father into a massive bedroom with an en suite bathroom and walk-in closet the size of her whole bedroom in Boston. Her old canopy bed and dresser were already set up inside. “This is for me?” she asked in awe.

“Yep. It’s all yours,” her father answered. “And this,” he said opening a door to an adjoining room, “is your studio.”

Emma’s mouth fell open as she stared into the room. She felt like she was staring into a dream. There were mannequin forms, sewing machines, bolts of muslin and fabric, and an entire glittering wall of accessories. And on a drawing table in the corner, was a brand new MacBook Pro adorned with a red bow.

Emma couldn’t hold her tears back. Her trembling hand flew to her heart as she took in the designer’s paradise. “Dad . . . how did you know?”

“You’re my daughter, Emma. How could I not know?”

Emma ran into her father’s arms and sobbed into his chest. She let him stroke her hair until she could compose herself. When she stopped shaking, her father put his steady hands firmly on her shoulders.

“Emma, ever since we bought you your first sewing machine, you wanted to be a designer. I know a lot has changed since then, but not everything. I still know my daughter.”

She nodded bleary-eyed.

“I also know you have some big decisions regarding college next fall. And I’m not going to try to influence that decision. But if you want to choose a school in New York I want you to know we’d be thrilled to have you.”

Emma grinned through a hiccup. “And this isn’t supposed to influence my decision?” she asked sarcastically as she gazed at the design studio.

Her father chuckled. “You can’t blame a father for wanting to give his daughter the best, can you?”

Emma laughed. “I guess not.”

“I love you, Emma. And whether you choose a school here or half way around the world, that’s not going to change, okay?”

“Thanks, Dad. I love you too. And this means so much to me.”

Her father frowned. “Why do I sense a but coming?”

“It’s just, I don’t need all of this.”

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

Emma stared into her father’s warm blue eyes. They reminded her of Will’s and she felt a knife twist in her heart. She threw her arms around her father again to stave off the pain. “I just need you, Dad.”

“Oh sweetie, you have no idea how good it is to hear you say that.”

Emma pulled back. “Dad, I need to tell you something?”

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“It’s sort of a long story. Maybe I can tell you over breakfast?”

“How does Jean-Georges sound?”

Emma grinned. “Perfect.”