The Billionaire's First Christmas - A Sweet Christmas Romance

I let another week go by without contacting Robyn. I owed her a huge apology for not showing up to dinner. Well, as far as she knew, I didn’t show up. I was ashamed of myself for not following through with calling her to at least apologize. I kept telling myself that if I let enough time pass between us the feelings would go away. I don’t know when I suddenly became a coward. It wasn’t like me at all. I’ve never been hesitant to ask a woman I found attractive out and I’d never met one that intimidated me in the least. When it was time to stop seeing her because it had become unpleasant for me for whatever reason, I just told her the truth. I’ve dated some of the richest women in the world as well as a lot of poor ones. I’d never met one that affected me the way that Robyn did, and it scared the hell out of me. I wasn’t used to being scared either and I didn’t like it. So what have I done about it? Absolutely nothing. I kissed her and she brought me cookies and invited me out, and I haven’t so much as called her. When or if I finally do, I doubt that she’ll believe I waited so long because I didn’t know what to say, but that was the honest to God truth. I’m the CEO of a multi-national company. I’m rich and I’m powerful and I’m confident. Why can’t I just pick up the phone and call her? I think deep down that it’s because I don’t understand what I’m feeling, so I have no idea how to explain it to her. If I tried, it was probably just going to come out sounding stupid. I hated to sound stupid. It was probably a moot point anyways. I’m sure she despises me by now.

“Mr. Winters?”

Janice had just stuck her head in the door. She’d been timid with me this week; I’m guessing that she sensed my mood. Janice knew me well enough to know when to keep her distance. My bite wasn’t so fierce, but sometimes my bark could get out of control. She was great at diverting me when that happened, but she often just tried to avoid it altogether.

“Yes, Janice?”

“I have your mail. Would you like me to open and go through it?”

“No, I have time to do it, Janice, thank you.” She brought in a bundle and laid it on my desk.

“If there’s anything you need me to do with it, I’ve finished the reports for the day and I have a free afternoon.”

“You know what, Janice? I’m sure there’s nothing here that can’t wait until Monday. Why don’t you go home early? I’m sure you have some Christmas shopping or something to do, right?” I wasn’t a complete ogre.

“Are you sure, sir?”

“I’m positive, Janice. Go home. Enjoy your weekend.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome.” I watched her leave and close the door. With a sigh I picked up the first piece of mail. I could tell what it was without opening it, a Christmas card. I slid the envelope open just to be sure. It was in fact a card from one of my clients. I threw it in the wastebasket. I shuffled through, picking out all of the ones that looked like cards. I opened them one by one and threw them away. This was why Janice offered to do my mail… the big reason, anyways. She knew that I always threw my cards away and never sent any out. I suspected that she kept them and sent cards out to those that had sent me one. She’d tried to tell me once that it was rude to just throw them away. That was one of the times she’d endured my bark. Since then, I think she tried to intercept as many as she could.

I finally slid open the last card in front of me. This one didn’t have a return address, so it must have been dropped off in the mail room, which I thought was odd. I pulled it out and on the front it said, “Believe” and there was a picture of an old fashioned Santa Claus sitting in a chair in front of a hearth. I started to dump it with the rest of them, but something about it reminded me of Robyn. I smiled when I thought about her Santa Claus obsession and the sweet story she’d told me. But she knew I didn’t do Christmas. I’d been clear on that. Surely she hadn’t… I opened it and it said, “Keep Christmas in your heart now and always.” At the bottom was Robyn’s signature. I tossed the card down on the desk in frustration. Why can’t she get that I don’t want anything to do with Christmas? Why can’t she understand that I don’t want to get close to her for that reason? My head was throbbing by the time I left to go home. I couldn’t have explained it if someone had put a gun to my head, but for some reason I put her card in my briefcase and took it with me. I thought it was best if I didn’t see her until I got back from my trip, but what could keeping the card really hurt?



ROBYN