“Four.”

“Hmm, me too, but it looks like the lift’s out. I think we’ll have to go up the stairs.”

“What?” She’d heard him; she just hoped he was kidding. Jules looked up at the display above the elevator and where she expected numbers, there was just a bunch of red dots rolling across the screen. He wasn’t kidding. The thought of dragging her luggage up all those flights of stairs to the fourth floor hit hard.

“Yeah, apparently it happens quite a bit. My friends are always complaining about it.” He shifted the weight of the box in his arms. It seemed heavy.

“Oh, your friends live here?” So, he wasn’t a delivery guy. Maybe she’d get to see some more of him then.

“Yeah, just dropping this wine off. We’re doing the Chrissie orphan thing.”

“Hang on, then you know Chloe and Ash?”

“Yeah! Oh, you’re the friend from America.”

So, I’m spending Christmas with the hot guy, she thought as she imagined him standing nude under a sprig of mistletoe. She flashed her excellent example of American orthodontia and said, “I’m Jules.”

“Matt.” He smiled back, then seemed to remember they were both standing there with heavy things. “Oh, sorry, I was going to offer to take your bag upstairs for you.”

She looked down at her luggage. “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. It weighs, like, fifty pounds.”

He grinned again. “Yeah, that’s okay. I’ll manage. So, how ’bout I head up with your bag, then come back down for you and the wine?”

There was no sense in arguing. He had offered and she had no desire to lug her luggage up all those stairs. “Sure,” she said, surrendering it.

Matt placed the box of wine on the floor, retrieved his phone from the front pocket of his jeans, swiped a couple of times, then pressed it to his ear. “Hey Ash, the lift’s out. Can you meet me at the top of the stairs? Yeah, she’s here. I’m bringing up her bag. Cool, ta.”

Then he pocketed the phone, took the handle of her luggage and disappeared through the door to the stairwell. “Be right back,” he called as the door swung shut.

As she waited, Jules settled on one thought. Christmas far from home and far from her dad, was definitely looking up.

Chapter 7

Chloe

“Stop right here, thanks.”

The taxi driver pulled to the kerb, cutting off another car. Chloe ignored the long horn that sounded and handed over her credit card. She was running uncharacteristically late and waited impatiently for the driver to tap it.

“Receipt?”

“No thanks.” She took her card and opened the car door, throwing a look over her shoulder. “Can you get my bag out of the boot?” The driver huffed out a sigh, but she ignored that too. Surely, he didn’t expect her to lift that massive thing.

It was too hot to be wearing ankle boots, jeans and a jumper, and a thin sheen of sweat prickled her brow. She’d be fine once she got in the terminal—if the driver would hurry up.