One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story) by Mandy Baggot Read Free Book Online Page B

should have told me you were coming. I would have been more organised,’ Oliver said, moving behind his desk and sitting down. He picked up his pen and rubbed his thumb over the barrel.
    ‘Nonsense, Oliver, you would have found a reason not to be here,’ Cynthia said, sitting back down and picking her Gucci handbag up off the floor. She placed it on her lap.
    He let out a laugh. ‘I wouldn’t have done that.’ The words came out a little too quickly.
    ‘You’ve been avoiding my calls,’ Cynthia carried on.
    The second she said the sentence all he could see were the pile of yellow notes Clara had been sticking to his desk for the past couple of weeks. He swallowed. ‘It’s been very full on here and …’
    Cynthia cut him off. ‘I know what this is about, Oliver. It’s what it’s always about.’
    It didn’t sound like she required him to give an answer. He sat still, his thumb working overtime on the pen until it started to hurt.
    ‘It’s December isn’t it. You’re always like this in December,’ Cynthia said. It didn’t sound like she wanted to be interrupted.
    He put the pen down on the desk and picked up his baseball stress ball, squeezing it in his palm. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
    ‘One word.’ She paused for a breath before continuing. ‘Christmas.’
    He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise up like she’d said something really offensive. Why did he have such a problem with the word? How could nine letters make him want to crawl under his desk and not come out until it was all over?
    ‘I need to know if you’re coming home.’
    His mother’s voice started to fracture just a little and it got to him. He squeezed the stress ball harder.
    ‘I thought you could spend some time at the house. Sophia and Pablo miss you.’ She stopped for a moment, as if to recollect. ‘And so do I.’
    He squeezed the ball until it disappeared into his palm completely. Christmas wasn’t the same without his father and brother. The family home in Westchester wasn’t the same. It was cold, empty, bereft, despite his mother’s attempts to make it into some sort of stately show home. There were new drapes every second month, urns of flowers everywhere, any frill and frippery to fill the gaps. And he definitely wasn’t being blackmailed by her use of the housekeeper who had been around since he was a teen and her ten-year-old son who played a mean game of hockey.
    ‘Mom, it’s always difficult around Christmas, you know that.’ He put the ball down and laid the flats of his palms on the desk. ‘I’m in the middle of a hard negotiation right now that’s going to go right down to the wire.’
    ‘I know all about the Regis Software merger, I am a member of the board.’ She let out a sigh. ‘I’m not asking you to take the next two weeks off work, Oliver. I’m asking for one day, maybe a couple of nights.’ Cynthia unfastened her bag and removed a handkerchief. ‘Bring Tony if you have to.’
    ‘Tony’s going to Italy,’ he responded.
    ‘With his family?’
    ‘I guess.’
    ‘Because family’s important.’
    ‘Mom, don’t get upset,’ he said as she dabbed at her eyes.
    ‘You’re giving me no other option.’ She sniffed. ‘Since your father passed …’
    ‘Stop.’
    It was one short word but he’d said it with enough power to call a halt to anything.
    Oliver sprung from his chair. He headed towards the full-length windows, leaning one arm against the pane of glass, looking at the buildings surrounding the Drummond offices. The pain in his chest was making itself known again as he tried to concentrate on the metal and steel in his sightline. The Chrysler Building. Art Deco like the Empire State but completely unique with its ornate arches leading to the spire at its pinnacle. Spikes of industry, sharp shards of ironwork – the ache in his torso stabbed harder.
    His mom had no idea how he felt. None whatsoever. It wasn’t just the memories, it was his future, or rather