Christmas at the Chalet Read online

  “Your father and I planned a surprise wedding.” Todd beamed. “You don’t have to do anything except put on that dress and walk down the aisle.”

  “You talked to my father without asking me?” she demanded.

  “I had to—I didn’t want to get married without his blessing,” he said cheerfully. “My parents are here, and Christopher and Amy, and your roommate from UCLA. There will be a garden ceremony, followed by a lobster dinner and pomegranate wedding cake.”

  “I’m pregnant, I can’t eat seafood! Fruit gives me stomach acid, and the scent of flowers makes me nauseous. Even if I wasn’t covered in a rash, the last thing I want is to stand outside in the heat.” She glowered. “Please tell everyone to go home.”

  “They can’t leave! Your father rented out every cottage,” he pleaded. “There’s a dozen bottles of expensive wine in the barrel room, and a golf cart decorated with tin cans.”

  “If I wanted a wedding, I would have planned one myself. I’m going to take a bath.” She walked angrily to the bathroom. “Go enjoy yourself and give everyone my regards.”

  The wedding planner had timed the ceremony so the evening light would reflect on the hills. Afterward the guests would mingle under the loquat trees, and there would be appetizers of pan-seared abalone and Spanish octopus. And the wedding menu! Alistair had paid extra for the choice of lobster tails or spiced chicken with roasted cauliflower florets.

  Todd stripped off his shirt and unbuckled his belt.

  “What are you doing?” Patty asked. “If you think I want to have sex, I’d rather jump out of a plane without a parachute.”

  “You need someone to wash your back.” He helped her into the bath. “And I’ll ask the maid for calamine lotion for the itching. It worked wonderfully on mosquito bites when I was a child. There must be a cold soup on the room-service menu. We can order ice cream and watch television.”

  “What about the guests?” she said, her resolve wavering. “Aren’t you going to join them?”

  “The only person I need to celebrate our wedding with is my wife.” He finished undressing and climbed into the bath. “Anyway, there’ll be more wine for everyone. After a few bottles of pinot noir, they won’t miss us.”

  “It was very thoughtful, and I should be thankful,” Patty sighed. “But you can’t imagine what it’s like being pregnant. The morning sickness never goes away, and I’m uncomfortable all the time.”

  “I’m the one who should be grateful. You’re doing all the work.” He kissed her. “I’m just the lucky guy along for the ride.”

  * * *

  “The rash lasted all weekend, and we never had the wedding.” Her father sipped his buttered rum. “Your mother wore the dress to a charity function and put it in the attic. It’s probably still there; you should ask her if you can borrow it.”

  Nell gazed out the window at skiers taking the last run of the day, and anger welled up inside her.

  “How you can be so unfeeling?” she said, turning to her father.

  “I didn’t mean to upset her,” he said, waving his hand. “What woman wouldn’t want a surprise wedding? And the pomegranate cake was delicious. I took it home and ate the whole thing.”

  “I don’t mean your wedding. I’m talking about my wedding,” she said. “You understood how important it was for her parents to be there, but you refuse to attend my wedding.”

  “That was different. We were so young, and we were living in her father’s house,” he faltered.

  “It’s not different at all. Most fathers would do anything to see their daughter walk down the aisle,” she fumed. “You’re too busy harboring some grudge to know what’s important.”

  “I explained it to you,” he pleaded. “I’m afraid if I say yes, your mother won’t come.”

  “You haven’t even tried.” Nell jumped up and grabbed her gloves. “Parents make sacrifices for their children; that’s what parenting is about.”

  “Nell, wait.” He stood up. “Sit down and let’s talk about it.”

  “All we’ve done is talk.” She turned and tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m going back to the hotel. I’ll see you later.”

  * * *

  Nell stepped out of the elevator and knocked on Felicity’s door.

  “Nell! Come in.” Felicity opened the door. “Are you all right? It’s five-thirty and you’re still in your ski clothes.”

  “I’m fine.” Nell opened her bag and took out a bottle of brandy. “Can you pour a shot of this? I bought it at the gift shop.”

  “You’re buying alcohol in the afternoon?” Felicity raised her eyebrow.

  “Raj doesn’t want us to drink from the minibar, and this is an emergency.” Nell sank onto the sofa. “I spent the afternoon on the slopes with my father.”

  “Don’t tell me your parents ran into each other.” Felicity poured two glasses and handed one to Nell. “I was afraid that would happen. St. Moritz is a tiny village.”

  “It’s not that.” Nell sipped her brandy. “He told me this long story about holding a second surprise wedding so their family and friends could be there. But he still can’t see that having my parents at my wedding means everything to me.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him. It seems all men are irrational,” Felicity said bleakly. “You’ll never guess what happened. Adam is in St. Moritz.”

  “What did you say?” Nell gasped.

  “He showed up in the hotel lobby,” Felicity replied. “I couldn’t have been more surprised if it was Santa Claus.”

  “Adam is much better looking than Santa Claus,” Nell laughed. “Oh God, am I interrupting? Is he in the bedroom, or taking a shower?”

  “Of course not.” Felicity shook her head. “He went to his hotel room.”

  “The boyfriend you’ve been trying to get back together with flew five thousand miles to see you, and you’re not in bed having wonderful make-up sex?” Nell said in surprise.

  “Adam wants to discuss our future, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing,” Felicity said. “I have to do a few things in the village, and I’m going to ask Gabriel’s advice first.”

  “You really think a stranger should keep giving you relationship advice?” Nell asked quizzically.

  “At first I told Gabriel what was going on with Adam by accident. When I slipped and hurt my ankle, the whole story spilled out. But he was right about telling Adam how I felt, and I think more clearly when I get an outsider’s opinion,” Felicity said. “It’s like writing to the advice column in the newspaper. He’s been quite helpful, and I don’t want to make a mistake.”

  Nell suddenly recalled something her father said. “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “That’s why my parents got divorced.”

  “What are you talking about?” Felicity asked. “Did your mother have an affair?”

  “I don’t think either of them did. I just remembered my father said he felt like a human ping-pong ball between my mother and her father,” Nell said excitedly. “What if something terrible happened between them, and he got caught in the middle?”

  “It’s possible, but how will you find out?” Felicity asked. “Your grandfather died a few years ago.”

  “I’ll find a way to ask my mother.” Nell stood up. “It’s a long shot, but it’s the only one I have.”

  “Good luck, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Felicity said as she walked to the door. “Don’t forget your bottle of brandy.”

  Nell turned and smiled. “You’re going to need it more than me. Why don’t you keep it?”

  “I think I will. Christmas is supposed to be a time of miracles,” Felicity said darkly. “Why do I feel like everything is falling apart?”

  “There’s still three days until New Year’s Eve,” Nell reminded her. “Maybe it will work out and all our Christmas wishes will come true.”

  Twelve

  Three Days Before the Fashion Show

  7:00 p.m.

  Felicity

  A LIGHT SNOW WAS FALLING on the cob
blestones, and Felicity wrapped her coat around her. The church spire was dusted with snow, and fat snowflakes blanketed the rooftops. It was early evening, three days before the fashion show, and Felicity was late to meet Gabriel at the Segantini Museum.

  It would have been wonderful to spend Adam’s first evening in St. Moritz together. They could have gone to the bobsled race with Raj and the models, and then had a cozy dinner at a traditional Swiss restaurant. She pictured them offering each other bites of fondue and sharing apple strudel for dessert.

  Instead she’d told Raj she had to go to the village to buy garters, and she was hurrying to the museum to meet Gabriel. Her stomach turned over and she felt uneasy, like the time Raj came down with the flu and she had to meet an important client alone.

  Felicity had sat in the lobby of the Plaza and listened to the mother of the bride list the other designers they were considering: Carolina Herrera for her romantic silhouettes, Oscar de la Renta for his impossibly long trains, and Jenny Packham because she’d designed Kate Middleton’s gown.

  The woman showed her a photo of the bride, and Felicity had pictured the perfect dress: a strapless bodice to accentuate the bride’s slender neck, and a slit in the skirt to show off her legs. The most important piece would be the veil.

  She grabbed a napkin and sketched a point d’esprit veil attached to a diamond tiara. The diamonds would look like stars against the bride’s black hair, and the whole effect would be sexy and elegant. The mother of the bride took one look at the sketch and said that Felicity understood her daughter completely. Felicity had practically run to the studio to show Raj the deposit check.

  A tray of diamond rings sparkled in the window of Harry Winston, and she stopped to admire them. Adam had come all the way to St. Moritz and said that he loved her. Maybe the Christmas miracle she wished for was about to happen, and Adam would propose. He’d open a bottle of champagne and they’d feed each other chocolate-covered strawberries and snow would fall softly outside her suite.

  “There you are.” A male voice interrupted her thoughts. “I thought you stood me up.”

  Felicity turned and almost didn’t recognize Gabriel. He wore a dark suit under a cashmere overcoat and wingtip shoes. A scarf was wrapped around his neck, and he wore a watch with a leather band.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. It took me ages to find a hooded jacket.” Felicity took off her dark glasses. “Why are you all dressed up? I thought we were just looking at paintings.”

  “Later I have to attend a private function for one of my father’s patients,” he explained. “He’s British, and spends an inordinate amount of time in St. Moritz. I think it’s because of the proximity to his Swiss bank account.”

  “Well, you look handsome.” Felicity was suddenly in a good mood. The air smelled of pine trees and the store windows looked so pretty. “You should change out of your doctor’s coat more often; some gorgeous tourist will fall in love with you.”

  “No thank you. The scarf is itchy, and wearing a tie reminds me of medical school.” He walked toward the museum. “Let’s go—I haven’t eaten dinner, and I don’t want to miss the canapés.”

  The museum was in a stone building perched above the village. The walls were covered with gold frames, and above them stretched a wide dome with intricate frescoes.

  “Giovanni Segantini was one of the most influential artists of the Realism movement in the late nineteenth century,” Gabriel said as they admired the paintings. “He died while he was painting his Alpine Triptych, and the museum was built in his honor.”

  A man had followed them inside and Felicity was suddenly afraid he was a journalist. She covered her face with the brochure and tried to see if he was watching them.

  “You’re not listening.” Gabriel stopped. “Either I’m terribly boring, or you have no interest in art.”

  “You’re not boring.” Felicity flushed. “I was studying the brochure.”

  “I doubt that, since it’s upside down.” He pointed to the brochure.

  “I got worried.” Felicity closed the brochure. “I think that man might be a journalist, and I don’t want him to see us.”

  “You’re the one who wanted to meet like Bonnie and Clyde,” Gabriel responded. “The spy look suits you, but don’t get any ideas. I have no desire to steal a painting and go on the lam.”

  “I don’t want to steal anything. But I do need your help.” She pointed to an anteroom. “Why don’t we go somewhere quiet?”

  “That sounds serious.” He followed her. “What’s wrong, Felicity?”

  “I’m perfectly healthy. But you’ll never guess what happened. Adam is in St. Moritz.”

  “Your boyfriend flew all the way to St. Moritz?” Gabriel asked nervously. “I hope he didn’t come to punch me out. I’m a terrible fighter. If I see a fist coming in my direction, I tend to duck.”

  “I told him nothing is going on between us,” Felicity assured him. “He asked me to dinner, and I don’t know what to do. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing.”

  “Tell him how you feel. Do you want to get back together with him?” Gabriel asked.

  “Of course, I do. I’m in love with him,” Felicity said. “I’m just afraid…”

  “Afraid is a word you use to describe glacier hiking, or careening down the bobsled track. It’s not supposed to describe your feelings for your boyfriend.”

  “I’m worried Adam will never ask me to marry him,” she said slowly. “More than that, I’m afraid he never loved me in the first place.”

  “We went over this before,” Gabriel reminded her. “He wouldn’t have stayed with you if he wasn’t in love with you.”

  “Does he love me enough to spend the rest of his life with me?” Felicity asked urgently. “And how do I find out without ruining everything?”

  “You tell him the truth about your feelings. What else can you do?” Gabriel turned and looked intently at a painting. “If you’re meant to be together, that will be enough.”

  They walked out of the museum, into the square. Snow was falling softly on the window boxes. Children were playing under the Christmas tree. A couple rode by in a horse and carriage.

  “Will you do something for me?” she asked.

  “That depends. I’m not going to wrestle the journalist at the museum and take away his cell phone,” he replied. “He had the muscles of a bodybuilder, and I’m on the skinny side.”

  “I don’t think he noticed us.” She rubbed her hands to keep warm. “This might sound silly, but could you tell me one of your folktales?”

  “You want me to tell you a story now?” Gabriel glanced at the couples strolling along the pavement.

  “Please. They make me more relaxed,” she said. “It will calm me down before I meet Adam.”

  “I suppose I can.” Gabriel rubbed his brow. “Once there was a beautiful princess who lived in a castle in the forest. She loved to sew, and all the important women in the land came to her for their ball gowns. Her father the king loved her very much, and was afraid she might end up in an unhappy marriage. He asked a good witch to cast a spell on her. She would never sew her own wedding dress until she was kissed by a man who was worthy of her beauty.

  “The princess had a large dowry as well as beauty, so every man in the kingdom courted her. After a suitor left, she would take out her needle and thread and begin to sew her wedding gown. But the needle would prick her finger and the thread would get knotted and she’d have to give up.

  “One day, a suitor came from a kingdom far away. He rode a white horse and said all the right things. When he kissed her, she was sure he was the one. She took out her needle and a bolt of white silk and began sewing. But the needle pricked her finger and left a spot of blood on the fabric.

  “She took it to the laundry in the village and begged the young man to remove the stain. They talked while he worked and he was warm and charming. The stain came out and he offered to walk her back to the castle. When they arrived, he kissed her before she w
ent inside.

  “All night she couldn’t sleep, thinking about the kiss. In the morning she remembered the bolt of silk, and picked up the needle and thread. The needle darted over the fabric, and she sewed the most beautiful wedding dress. She showed it to her father, and he asked the identity of the man who kissed her.

  “The king summoned the young man at the laundry to the castle. He came and promised the king he would take good care of his daughter. The king gave them his blessing and threw a magnificent wedding. The bride looked beautiful in the silk gown, and the good witch made a bouquet of magical wildflowers to ensure they would live happily ever after.”

  “Where did you hear that folktale?” Felicity asked. “It’s not like anything you told me before.”

  Gabriel was silent, as if he was trying to figure out what to say.

  “It must have been something my mother told me.” He shrugged. “I haven’t thought of it in years, and it just popped into my mind.”

  “I’m going to run in and change before I meet Adam,” Felicity said as they approached the Christmas tree in front of Badrutt’s Palace. “Thank you for meeting me. It really helped.”

  “I hardly said anything important.”

  Felicity inhaled the scent of pine needles and smiled. “For some reason, just being around you makes me feel better.”

  * * *

  Felicity entered the King’s Club and searched for Adam. The nightclub was even more spectacular than in the brochures. The walls were flecked with silver and there were mirrored ceilings and suede booths. Disco balls illuminated the dance floor, and the cocktails were served in colored glasses.

  Adam was seated at the bar, and Felicity gulped. He looked incredibly handsome in a leather jacket and corduroy slacks.

  “You’re already here.” She joined him at the bar. “It’s so crowded, I was afraid we wouldn’t find each other.”

  “You look beautiful.” Adam kissed her on the cheek. “I would have picked you out of the crowd. You’re the loveliest woman here.”

  “Thank you.” Felicity beamed, glancing down at her red wool dress and heels.