A Christmas Romance in the Scottish Highlands (Scottish Highlands #6)

Chapter 26

26

ALEX

Alex’s stomach was in knots as his father stood beside him in Henry’s studio studying his landscape. He tried to quash the stirrings of foreboding as his father frowned.

Why had Ella thought it would be a good idea to invite him to the pantomime? Surely he’d told her enough about their relationship for her to understand it was a mistake.

He heard the sound of vehicles crunching on snow and guessed Henry and Ella were about to park. In a few moments, they’d join them, but he wanted his father’s take on his painting while they were alone.

‘What do you think?’ he asked, his voice more eager than he’d intended, knowing any hints of emotion could prove a mistake.

His father took a step closer to the canvas, his top lip curling. Alex’s body felt like it had been wrapped in rubber bands – someone was pinging each of them in turn, making everything hurt from the top of his head to his toes. He scrubbed a hand over his face and dislodged a spray of glitter which fluttered to the ground.

Michael noticed and shook his head. ‘You’re ridiculous.’ His gaze returned to the painting and then back to Alex again. ‘This isn’t what I expected from you, Alexander.’

Alex felt his blood thicken and slow as shame got the better of him.

Sprout’s barking and the patter of small feet indicated that he’d missed any chance of privacy. Of absorbing the impact of his father’s reaction to his work without an audience. When the dog immediately made his way towards Alex, he took a step away as his father let out a muffled curse.

‘Pets are a waste of energy,’ his father murmured under his breath, pulling a face at the terrier who was sporting snowman headgear tonight.

‘How are you getting on?’ Henry asked as he wandered up the stairs and made his way towards them. Ella followed, more tentatively, her freshly scrubbed face a picture of guilt as she glanced between Alex and his father, clearly not liking what she saw.

‘This is Ella McNally.’ Alex garnered his manners as she approached. A part of him wanted to reach out and hug her, wanted to tell her everything was all right. But another, spikier side of him was furious. He’d been blindsided and everything he’d been working towards was ruined. All because she’d invited his father – had interfered. This is why you didn’t make connections – this is why you didn’t let people in. ‘She’s playing Cinderella in the pantomime.’

‘Ah,’ his father said, his tone disinterested. ‘My mystery inviter.’

‘This is my father,’ Alex said, out of politeness because he hardly needed an introduction. Michael held out a hand and shook Ella’s, dropping it almost the instant they touched. Making it clear he had no interest in getting to know her.

‘Do you like the lad’s work?’ Henry tried again, walking to stand beside Michael so he could study the landscape too.

‘I suppose,’ his father said. ‘I’ve seen a similar thing in a couple of chain hotels I frequent.’

Alex flinched as the barb hit.

‘It’s so much better than that, it’s amazing,’ Ella jumped in, sounding shocked.

Alex tried to catch her eye, tried to signal for her to stop. He knew Michael would like the picture even less if it was praised.

‘Alex has done such an amazing job on the shadows and colours,’ she continued, moving closer to him. ‘I can almost imagine stepping into that snow.’ The trees and lochan seemed to shimmer under the lights in the studio – taunting Alex with their playfulness. He’d added a tiny robin on one of the branches and felt his insides curl into themselves when his father leaned forward to study it. How had he let himself get seduced into producing such foolishness?

He thought he heard his father mutter something about frivolity under his breath.

‘I love it, don’t you, Mr Charming?’ Ella gushed.

‘Love isn’t the word I’d use.’ His father’s voice was flat.

‘Your lad is talented, there’s a lot in that picture I’d be proud of if I’d painted it myself,’ Henry said, his forehead crinkling in the centre as he studied Michael. ‘He’s good – and I’ve seen such a marked improvement since he arrived. You should be impressed.’

The words seemed to hang in the air as if waiting for his father’s agreement, or at least an acknowledgement that they could be true – when neither came, they evaporated as if they’d been snuffed out by Mae’s wand.

Michael sniffed and paced away from the picture, almost tripping over Sprout, ignoring the dog when he let out a warning howl. He moved until he was standing in front of Ella’s easel. The sheet, which she’d placed over her work every evening, was back in place. Ella had told Alex she wanted the work to be a surprise, so he hadn’t seen it, but watching his father eye the mystery canvas had all his senses tingling.

‘That’s mine,’ Ella cautioned.

‘So you’re a painter too. Why the big secret?’ Michael asked, bending and picking up the edge of the sheet and tossing it off as Ella leaped forward trying to stop him.

‘No!’ she shouted.

‘Oh!’ his father gasped, his face rearranging itself into what passed as a smile. ‘Now that’s good…’ His eyes widened as they explored Ella’s work.

Alex watched the look of absolute awe take over his face. This is what he’d wanted and he’d worked so hard over the last few weeks, hoping for this exact reaction.

‘It’s brilliant,’ Michael said, almost lost for words. ‘You’re very talented for such a young lass. Far more talented, it appears, than my son.’ He glanced at Alex, his face emotionless. ‘Or perhaps you simply work a lot harder than him.’

‘That’s not true…’ Ella said, her voice filled with a combination of indignation and shock. ‘I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as him.’

Alex took in a stiff breath, working to still his disappointment, trying to defeat his feelings and find the iceman again. He knew he was in there, buried under the thin layer of hope that had grown since he’d arrived in Mistletoe. It was easy enough to tear through it. Then he paced around to the other side of Ella’s canvas so he could look at it too.

What he saw made what was left of his heart crack. His eyes skidded over the drawing – it was brilliant of course, but so much more. Ella had recreated in perfect detail the picture from the Charming Capital Management logo. The three dogs sniping, yapping and vying for attention, but she’d added others too. One sitting at their feet, another that looked like Sprout was nibbling a carrot, Wyatt sat in the centre wide-eyed and magnificent, his ears flapping. It was filled with life and colour, packed with emotion and meaning – and it was utterly brilliant.

Alex felt sick.

‘It’s a dog-eat-dog world. You’ve caught that exactly. How much for it?’ Michael said, turning to Ella.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, glancing from Alex’s father to him, her eyes skimming his face and widening when she read Alex’s expression, realised he knew exactly what she’d done.

‘I want to buy it.’

‘It’s not for sale – I was drawing this for Alex.’ Her eyes were shining, and Alex could see the crocodile tears waiting to fall.

‘I’ll give you whatever you want,’ Michael continued as an odd calmness settled over Alex – as all his remaining feelings and emotions seeped away. ‘This is perfect. It’s the only picture that could possibly suit the reception area of my company. Don’t you think so, Alex?’

‘Aye,’ Alex said flatly. He should have seen this coming. Should have known if he got close to someone, they’d turn on him in the end.

It was a dog-eat-dog world, after all; his father was right. But somehow since coming to Mistletoe, since meeting Ella, he’d forgotten.

‘I’m not selling,’ Ella insisted, glancing back at Alex as one of the tears spilled over and trickled down her cheek. ‘You need to take Alex’s – it’s so much better,’ she pleaded, her expression almost wild. If Alex didn’t know she was lying, he would have believed she was upset.

‘I’m sure Ella will come up with an appropriate figure if you give her time,’ he said. All emotion gone from his voice. ‘She’s obviously got your contact details.’ He gave her a hard look. ‘Why don’t you give her a day or two to get back to you?’

‘I’m not selling.’ She gaped at him.

His father shrugged. ‘I’m a businessman, so I understand about needing time, Ms McNally, it’s an excellent way of driving up the price– so I’ll give you some. You have until tomorrow to send me a figure. Believe me, I’m willing to be generous.’ He gazed at her picture again. ‘I’m very impressed. I’m going to leave now. It’s getting late and I think I’ve seen all I need to.’

He gave Alex a long look before picking up the coat he’d placed over one of the chairs in the studio when they arrived. ‘I’ll expect to see you back at work by lunchtime on Christmas Eve. We can discuss what’s happened and ensure you’re sufficiently prepared for our client meeting the following day.’

‘But— the pantomime…’ Ella trailed off as Alex gave her a dark look. Michael nodded at them both before heading towards the stairs.

‘I’ll see you out,’ Henry said, following him.

The room remained silent as both men left. Alex could hear his father’s footsteps as he got further away. The heavy thump of them pounding a death knell on his dreams.

‘Well, I suppose you got your happily ever after,’ he said tonelessly as he turned to face Ella.

She looked dumbfounded. ‘What do you mean?’ she croaked. ‘I didn’t mean for that to happen. I told you, I’m not going to sell.’

‘You can stop now, Ella.’ Alex swallowed. ‘I should say bravo.’ He clapped his hands and watched her face crumple. Gritted his teeth when he felt a corresponding crush in his chest.

‘How did you even know what our company logo was?’ he asked, scouring her face, trying to find all the things he must have missed when he’d decided to trust her. She was good – he had to admit that. Then it suddenly fell into place and he nodded. ‘Of course, I asked you to hold my cufflinks when I was changing your tyre.’

‘Alex…’ Ella paled. ‘The picture was always for you.’ More tears spilled as she watched him.

‘Then inviting my father to the pantomime – you must have guessed it was the best way to get him to the studio.’ His forehead pinched as he tried to track back, tried to mentally find all the clues that had led them here.

‘I didn’t know he was coming tonight, I invited him to the performance on Christmas Eve – I thought he’d be proud of you. You were brilliant. Everyone said so,’ she choked.

‘Michael certainly didn’t,’ he shot back. ‘I wonder, was that the icing on the cake?’

‘Alex, I don’t understand why you’re saying this.’ She gazed at him as tears continued to fall, staring at him blankly like she was trying to see inside his head.

Alex could feel whatever was left of the man he’d found in Mistletoe flake away. He’d be back in Edinburgh soon – and then Ella, the pantomime, and everyone else would become a dim and distant memory. He’d have to work even harder to earn his father’s respect and approval, but he’d do it.

He shut his eyes as he imagined walking into the reception area of the company and seeing Ella’s picture every day.

‘I’m so sorry…’ she repeated. ‘I don’t know how to put this right. I don’t know how to make you believe me.’ She twisted her fingers together, tangling and untangling them. ‘You must know I had no reason to trick you.’

‘I think we both know that’s not true.’ Alex paused as she looked at him blankly. Did she really think he was this stupid? ‘What about the money you need to clear Magic Mops’ debts?’ he asked, remembering he’d almost offered to pay them off himself. The thought crushed him – he’d been totally taken in by her. ‘My father will pay whatever you want for your picture. You’ll be able to pay off your stepmother and leave the business like you want.’

Ella gaped. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

‘You needed to get away from your family, to get back to your art and now my father’s delivered that to you on a plate.’ He sighed. ‘Make sure you ask for plenty of money. He’s good for it. But I’m sure you already know that.’

‘Alex. You know that’s not?—’

‘If they’re not expecting you to knife them in the back, they won’t see it coming,’ he told her, his heart crumbling a little more. ‘My father’s been teaching me that for my entire life. This is the first time I’ve realised how right he is…’

The devastated look on Ella’s face had Alex’s insides tumbling, proving he wasn’t totally over her. But he would be.

Ella seemed to wilt then – it was as if she couldn’t handle the weight of his words, the guilt of all that truth. She swallowed. ‘I need to go now.’ Her voice was wobbly. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow when you’ve had time to sleep on what’s happened. I’m going to prove that nothing you’re saying is true.’

‘I’ll see you out,’ he said as she half ran, half stumbled towards the stairs.

Alex was so angry and hurt, it made no sense that he wanted to reach for her. He knew he had to stamp these feelings out of his heart, and he would – just as soon as Ella had gone.

She was sobbing by the time she reached the porch. Alex watched dispassionately as she tugged on a pair of pink wellington boots, then turned to face him, taking in a long shuddery breath.

‘Alex, I care for you,’ she said, her eyes shining. ‘I understand why you’re upset with me, but I’d never betray you.’

‘Goodbye, Ella,’ Alex said as she gave him one last look before opening the door and stumbling out. He couldn’t stop himself from watching as she began to run towards her van.

‘What’s the lass doing?’ Henry gasped as he appeared from the hallway and stood beside Alex. Heavy snow was falling again, and swirls of wind gusted through the open doorway, the cold slicing its way under Alex’s clothes. But he didn’t flinch, didn’t want to feel anything.

When Ella reached her van, she flung open the driver’s door. She quickly threw herself into the seat, but as she did, one of her wellingtons caught in the snow. Alex watched her glance over her shoulder to where he was watching. Saw her sob, then shake her head and slam the door.

‘What’s the lass thinking, she’s leaving her boot?’ Henry asked, tugging on a pair of shoes before heading out into the storm.

‘She’s leaving.’ Alex shook his head, ignoring Henry as he walked in the direction of the pink wellington which was still stuck.

Instead, he watched as the van slid jerkily from where it was parked. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as it drove slowly down the bumpy driveway, before disappearing into a squall of ice and wind – taking Ella and his broken, black heart along with it.