The Twelve Nights of Christmas Read Free Page A

‘—catch a bus. The buses are mad because of Christmas, but I’m on my way now.’ All she ever did was tell lies, Evie thought, struggling with the bag. She lied to protect her grandfather from more worry and she lied to Tyrannosaurus Tina because, until she’d found something better, she couldn’t tell the woman where to stick her job. Maybe she should suggest to scary Salvatorio Zaccarelli that the first person he should fire was the manager of his flagship hotel.
    As she sat on the crowded bus, jammed between stressed out Christmas shoppers, Evie wondered if she should have just told her grandfather the truth. That London was lonely. That she missed him. That she’d been demoted after just days in her new job by a boss who hated her. Apparently, she’d been too friendly.
    Evie sighed, well aware that she’d probably been a little too desperate for human company. But she still didn’t understand why that was a crime. As a receptionist in a hotel, how could you be too friendly? Anyway, she had no opportunity to be friendly now because, as a member of the housekeeping staff, she didn’t often meet any guests. She didn’t meet anyone. She’d taken to talking to herself as she cleaned bathroom mirrors.
    Trying to take her mind off it, Evie picked up a discarded magazine and flicked through the pages, staring gloomily at the slender models wearing the magazine’s recommendations for glittery dresses perfect for the party season. Apparently, silver was bang on trend. Absently, she picked the one she would have worn if she had money and had actually beeninvited to a party. Shimmering silver, she thought, with diamonds and swept up hair. Except that she’d look ridiculous dressed like that.
    Face it, Evie, you’re a bit of a freak.
    Hearing Jeff’s voice in her head, she dropped the magazine back on the seat, jumped off the bus and walked towards the back entrance of the prestigious hotel that provided a bolt-hole for the world’s rich and famous. She was just wondering where she was going to hide a rubbish bag when a sleek black Mercedes drove through a puddle and muddy water sprayed over her tights and shoes.
    â€˜Oh, for—’ Hopping to one side, soaking wet, Evie glared after the expensive car, imagining the warm, luxurious interior. ‘Thanks a lot. Just as long as you’re comfortable in your cosy, rich cocoon.’ Her eyes widened in disbelief as she read the number plate. ‘TYCOON.’ Drenched and shivering, she wondered what it was like to live a life of luxury, filled with diamonds, shimmering silver dresses and ostentatious car accessories.
    â€˜Hi, Evie, you’re late.’ A colleague hurried past her in a cloud of perfume and hairspray. ‘You’ve already missed the staff briefing. Tina said you were to go straight to the Penthouse because she doesn’t have time to waste with you. The big boss is arriving tomorrow. Rumour has it that he is going to axe anyone who doesn’t fit. Even Creepy Carlos is nervous. Personally, I can’t wait to see Rio Zaccarelli in person. He’s the most stunningly good-looking man I’ve ever seen.’
    Chilled to the bone, Evie sneezed. ‘You’ve never seen him.’
    â€˜I’ve seen him in pictures. Red-hot Rio, that’s what we’re calling him.’
    â€˜Ruthless Rio is what I’m calling him,’ Evie muttered and her colleague frowned at the bag in her hand.
    â€˜Since when have you been responsible for dealing with the trash?’
    â€˜Oh, I like to be helpful. Versatile, that’s me—’ Evie pinned a rigid grin on her face, refusing to admit that she was carrying her home around. Like a snail, she thought, as she followed the girl through the glass door and into the plush, privileged warmth of a different life. Maybe there was a number plate that spelled out DISASTER. She could stick it on her back to warn people