We drank our cider, talked and laughed, and passed around presents. My father gave me a long, dark-gray wool coat—very pretty—with a matching black-and-white herringbone scarf. I stood and tried on my new coat and then handed my dad a bunch of presents I’d wrapped up to give to him, all practical items —dress shirts, ties, socks, a new suit. My mother had passed away years earlier, and I long ago took up the task of making sure my father was one of the best-dressed mayors in the state.
After my dad was done opening the gifts from me, Adam handed the mayor a slickly wrapped box. The mayor laughed and passed a gift to Adam at the same time. The boxes were identical. As they both unwrapped, it became apparent my father and Adam had chosen the exact same gift for one another—thirty-year Glenfiddich. The same scotch they’d been drinking earlier. I had to smile, seeing that they had more in common than either cared to admit.
Adam and I had promised not to go too crazy with our gifts for one another, so my present to him was a unique, handcrafted pair of cufflinks, nothing overly flashy or expensive. He said he loved them nonetheless. I was sure he liked his present, but he and I both knew we’d already given each other gifts that were truly priceless—our hearts.
With the cider long gone and wrapping paper strewn across the living room floor, there was but one final gift under the tree, the one from Adam to me. He handed me the ivory-wrapped box and then glanced uneasily at my father as I slid the cherry-red velvet ribbon and bow off.
“Oh,” I murmured as I flipped up the lid. Now I understood why Adam had given my dad that look.
The box contained a very sexy silver evening gown, the material silky and fluid. The dress promised to cling to my every curve. And I’d be showing off some skin, as the material draped dangerously low in the back. I held the dress up and noticed that it was long, but there was a rather high-cut slit up one leg. It was certainly slinky, but it was also incredibly beautiful, so I told Adam, “I love it.” I gave him a hug. “It’s stunning.”
“I remembered you saying you had nothing to wear for New Year’s Eve. I’m glad you like it, but I am quite sure it will be even more stunning when you wear it.” Adam’s eyes met mine suggestively, a smirk on his lips. I had a feeling he was imagining taking it off of me after the party. I felt my face heat up, and my dad coughed…loudly. I tore my gaze away from Adam and hurriedly placed the dress back into the box.
“Well,” my father began, “I’m sure glad I gave you that coat, honey. I expect you’ll be wearing it over that, er, dress.” He cleared his throat and shot Adam a pointed glare. “Weather like the kind we’ve been having, you could end up with frostbite in something that flimsy.”
Adam, mischievous as always, started to say something about how he’d make sure I was kept warm, but I hurriedly spoke right over him. “The party’s down in Boston, Dad. Not up here. It’ll probably be a little warmer than up here.”
My father either didn’t hear Adam or chose to ignore him. In any case, he continued right along, “Hell, it’s just as cold down there, sometimes even colder depending on the jet stream.”
Oh, goodness.
Adam appeared to be suppressing a chuckle, so I shot him a look. But he just winked at me. Impossible man! Certain my cheeks were flaming red by now, I ignored him and his flirtations, and solemnly promised my dad I’d wear something over the dress. Perhaps a wrap but not the heavy winter coat. However, I kept that to myself. The rest of the evening went well, the one little bump forgotten. It was all lively conversation, lots of good-natured laughter, just the three of us enjoying the holiday.
Once Adam and I returned to the island, the week passed quickly. There were visits to Nate and Helena’s bungalow, more gift giving and receiving, and, of course, preparations for the upcoming trip to Boston. By Thursday, everything was set for Trina and Walker’s New Year’s Eve party. But I still needed to confirm the other plans I’d made for the day after. Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve, and Adam and I were leaving in the morning.
From the privacy of my cottage, I called Joy to make sure we were still on. My young contact at the paper said yes, things were still a-go. I was to wait for her in front of the building where the office was located. She confirmed the address and told me to be there no later than eight, same plan as before.
Adam’s morning meeting was still on. I’d heard him discussing it with Nate when we’d visited. I foresaw no obstacles arising to prevent me from going to Cambridge, perusing the old newspapers in the back, and making it back to the hotel before Adam returned. Just in case, though, I planned to leave a note explaining that I stepped out to run a quick errand. Exactly what kind of errand I’d need to run in Boston on New Year’s morning I had not quite worked out. But hopefully Adam would never see the note and never have the chance to question it.
I sent up a quick prayer that the newspaper would match the one in Adam’s desk drawer. I just needed to know who was lying, Ami or Adam. And then I could move on…hopefully.
***
There was an electric energy in the air on New Year’s Eve. From the flight down—Nate and Adam in the cockpit, Helena and I cracking open an
