The Christmas Eve Carol.

Detroit's biggest gathering of the year.

People packed every inch of the city square, bundled in coats and scarves, rosy-cheeked from the cold and filled with holiday cheer. Laughter echoed through the streets, the air thick with the scent of cinnamon, roasted chestnuts, and fresh snow.

But my insides were in knots.

I was supposed to be sipping mulled wine with Jayden, kissing under twinkling lights, pretending our relationship wasn't already on fire. Instead, I was here, wrapped in my thickest coat and lonelier than I had ever been.

"Why do you look like you're about to open the dam of tears?" Stacey nudged me, handing over a cup of hot chocolate. Snow sat pretty on her lashes, like she was part of a postcard.

I tried to smile, failed, and exhaled instead. "Because my life is about to end."

She snorted. "Dramatic much? Carol is dense, we all came to that conclusion the first week of college." Her breath misted in the air. "Still, what she did was next-level backstabbing."

I didn't respond. There wasn't much to say. I'd walked in on my boyfriend having sex with my friend... no amount of therapy or tequila would unsee that.

Stacey looped her arm through mine. "Look on the bright side. She saved you from ending up with a misogynistic manchild, you landed the biggest job of your career, Ellie got discharged early, and you get to spend Christmas with her."

She smiled, warm enough to melt the ice that had nestled in my chest. "Next year, you're starting out as a whole new woman. Fiercer, sexier, and maybe, just maybe you'll finally go for the silver fox."

I laughed despite myself. "I'm not going after my ex's father, Stacey. That's a mess waiting to happen."

"Just think about it," she fanned herself dramatically. "Hot, steamy office romance. It's giving power play."

I groaned. "Please. Can we not?"

"Fine, fine," she said, grinning like the devil. "But if he ever pulls a Christian Grey on you, just know I told you so."

I shook my head, smiling as we waded through the crowd to get a better view of the stage. A trio of elves... okay, teenagers in velvet costumes started strumming their guitars, and then the singing began.

The voices of hundreds joined in. It was beautiful, in a chaotic kind of way. And for a second, I felt lighter. Maybe Stacey was right. Maybe next year would be better.

Halfway through the second song, she leaned close. "I'm gonna grab us some candles."

I nodded, watching her disappear into the sea of people. I was still smiling when a voice from behind knocked the wind right out of me.

"Catherine."

My heart stuttered and I snapped my head back.  Blue eyes like winter sky, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He looked maddeningly calm despite the noise and color and movement around us.

"Mr Turner," I breathed. A bystander shoved past, pushing me forward, I stumbled, but he caught my arm, steadying me with alarming ease.

"Call me Ronald, Catherine," he said, that smooth tone making my spine straighten. "We'll be working together for a while. Might as well get comfortable."

"In a business sense," he added.

"Sure... thing. Mr. Turner... I mean, Mr Ronald." I stammered, pulling gently away from his grasp.

"Just Ronald is fine."

I nodded too fast. "My friend's been gone a while. I should... probably go check on her."

I didn't wait for his response, I bolted like a deer escaping headlights. God, why couldn't I be as cool as Stacey? My cheeks burned as I reached the candle stand and scanned the crowd.

No sign of her.

I pulled out my phone, texting her as I walked, weaving through bundled-up bodies. I hadn't taken two steps when I slammed into someone.

"Ah... I'm sorry I-" the words died in my mouth as I laid eyes on the last person on earth I wanted to see. 

"It seems you can't stay away," He drawled, flashing a sleazy smirk, the same one he pulled every time he was drunk out of his mind. There was a girl hanging off his arm... brunette, glitter makeup, dead in the eyes.

I rolled my eyes, despite the way my heartbeat thundered. There was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me down. He was the one who messed up.

"This is a public space, Jayden. Not everything revolves around you."

He scoffed. "We're already over, Catherine. No need to keep pretending you didn't want it to happen."

I took a breath. "I didn't want to walk in on you screwing Carol on my couch, Jayden." My voice was louder than I intended and heads turned.

His grin faltered. The girl on his arm blinked.

I gestured to her. "If you have two brain cells, you'll run now and never look back. He doesn't know the first thing about commitment. And the sex?" I leaned in with false sweetness. "Wasn't that good. I had to fake every moan so his pride wouldn't cry itself to sleep."

The girl snorted. Jayden's face twisted. He yanked his arm away from her and stepped toward me. "You crazy b-"

He swung aiming for my face but the slap never landed. A hand gripped his wrist mid-air. My eyes snapped. Mr. Turner.

His usually calm expression was gone, replaced with something terrifyin... fury burning in his eyes.

"You've had too much to drink," he said evenly, but the threat in his voice was razor-sharp. "You're not thinking straight. Walk away before we both do something you'll regret."

Jayden yanked his wrist free, looking between me and his father.

"Is this some kind of 'good cop' moment?"

He shrugged, glancing at me. "Translate it however you want. Besides... she's not the one swinging fists."

Jayden sneered. "Whatever." He turned, grabbing the girl roughly by the wrist. "Let's go." She hesitated, then followed him.

The moment they were gone, Mr. Turner looked at me. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's fine," I said, even though it wasn't. "I think I've had enough drama for one night. Just need to find Stacey, then I'll head home."

"I'll stay with you until you're in a cab," he offered.

"I'll be fine."

"I insist."

I hesitated... then nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

We barely moved a step before the world split open.

A thunderous blast exploded in the center of the square with bright light, flames, people screaming, chaos blooming like firecrackers.

My ears rang like someone had set off a bomb inside my skull. The air was thick with smoke, a burnt chemical tang that clung to my throat and made it impossible to breathe properly. Screams tore through the air, people stumbling over each other like dominoes in a blind panic. My heart pounded so violently I thought it might burst.

I turned around in the chaos, disoriented. Then I felt a strong hand gripping my wrist.

"Come on," Mr Turner said, his face tight with tension. "Stay close to me Catherine."

I could barely hear him through the ringing in my ears, but I caught enough. Still, I shook my head. My eyes frantically scanned the crowd. "Stacey... she -"

"I'll make sure she's okay," he shouted through the screams, cutting me off. "I promise. But first, we need to get you out of here."

Something in the way he said it made me believe him. I took one last desperate look through the smoke and nodded. He didn't hesitate. With one arm still around me, he bulldozed through the crowd like a possessed man, pushing people aside, shouting orders, clearing a path.

We didn't stop until the chaos dulled behind us. Sirens were growing louder, slicing through the haze of panic. Mr. Turner turned to me, gripped my shoulders firmly.

"Catherine," he said again with his eyes searching mine. "You with me?"

I blinked a few times, nodded slowly. "Stacey..."

"I'll find her," he promised, softer this time. "As soon as the fire service gets here, help guide people. Anyone you see, send them to the trucks. Can you do that?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a nod. "Yes. I can."

He took off before I could say anything else.

When the fire truck screeched into view, I ran straight to the first officer, spitting out everything I knew, the layout, the estimated number of people, where I last saw smoke thickest, where I lost Stacey. Orders were barked and within minutes, there was structure in the madness.

I grabbed towels, water bottles, anything I could find. People were crying, coughing, bleeding. I handed out whatever I had, pressing cloths to heads, pouring water into open hands. Sweat rolled down my temples as I bent to help another girl when I saw them... Mr. Turner, with Stacey in his arms.

She was pale, clutching at him like her legs couldn't hold her weight. Blood streaked the side of her face.

"Stacey!" I shouted, running to them. "Oh my God... are you okay?"

Her dazed eyes found mine. "Just... lightheaded. I think I hit my head."

Tears blurred my vision. I reached for her but had to step back as medics swarmed her, lifting her gently onto a stretcher. Mr. Turner rested a hand on my shoulder.

"They're taking care of her," he said. "She'll be fine."

I couldn't speak. I wrapped my arms around myself and just nodded. The firefighters got the flames under control quickly after that. Mr. Turner came up beside me once again, this time with a tired but soft smile.

"You did good, Catherine. Real good."

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

He pressed a cold water bottle into my hand. "Your friend will be okay. You did everything you could."

I took it, finally managing a watery smile. "Thank you."

Four long hours later, most of the square was cleared out. Injured people had been taken to hospitals, and Stacey's sister had arrived in a flood of tears, hugging me and sobbing thank-yous before helping Stacey into the car.

The adrenaline was fading. All that was left was the weight in my limbs and a dull ache behind my eyes. I was just starting to consider how I'd get home when Mr. Turner reappeared at my side.

"Come on," he said quietly. "I'll give you a ride."

I wanted to say no. I should've said no. But my body had other plans. I nodded, too tired to argue. The moment I stepped into his car, I regretted it.

The air inside was warm and smelled like him... clean, woodsy, a hint of spice that made my stomach flutter. I hugged myself tightly, trying not to think about anything except the dark streets outside the window.

He slid in beside me and started the engine. "The media's going to have a field day tomorrow."

I winced. "Right. I hadn't even thought about that."

"Might actually be good for the campaign," he added after a moment. "A candidate on the ground. Present. Helping."

I nodded slowly. "It'll look good. Even if it was awful."

He glanced over. "I'm not worried. I've got you."

My heart stuttered. He meant the campaign. Obviously. I tried to convince myself of that as I stared hard at my trembling hands in my lap.

But the tension in the car was growing thick and every breath I took felt like a mistake. Every shift he made in the seat sent heat running across my skin. I needed to get out.

Finally, we pulled up to my house. I reached for the door handle with shaking fingers. Why were my hands trembling this much? But I couldn't get it open. It was stuck, or maybe I was just too exhausted and wired to function. Before I could try again, Mr. Turner reached across, his arm brushing mine. My breath caught in my throat.

He opened the door for me but paused. Our eyes locked. And stayed that way. His gaze flickered to my lips and they parted unconsciously. And like a fool, I licked my lips. Heat flared up my spine. His eyes darkened.

Move, Catherine. Say something. Anything.

But I just sat there.

He leaned in, slowly, giving me every chance to stop him. But as the horny messed girl I was, I didn't. My eyes fluttered shut the second his lips grazed mine.

It was barely a kiss at first. A whisper. A question. Almost like he was asking for permission and I gave him the answer... tilting my head, opening my mouth and he took over. His hand cupped the back of my neck, deepening the kiss with a hunger that sent warm straight to my core.

I moaned softly, fingers curling into the collar of his shirt. His other hand tangled in my hair as he pulled me closer. It wasn't just a kiss. It was a dam breaking. Weeks maybe months of lingering looks, of "almost" moments and "maybe" touches. It all erupted in that kiss, hot and desperate and inevitable.

But the second it ended, the world came crashing back.

I gasped and jerked away like I'd touched a live wire. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

I didn't wait for a reply. I flung open the door and ran inside. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might knock the walls down from the inside.

Once the door slammed shut behind me, I collapsed against it.

What the hell did I just do?

A groan escaped me as I tossed in bed, blinking against the morning light. Wait...

My eyes flew open and I lunged for my alarm clock, the same one that apparently decided to retire without notice.

"Shit." I scrambled out of the sheets, half-tripping as I bolted to the bathroom.

Between breaking off my engagement, dodging my ex-fiancé's father, and the chaos after the bombing, I hadn't had a moment to breathe. Last night was the first proper sleep I'd gotten in days... too proper, apparently.

I got ready at record speed, rushing for Ellie's New Year's party at the hospital. It was a sweet idea, throwing a celebration for patients who couldn't go home for the holidays but right now, I was mostly focused on not arriving late enough for Ellie to kill me.

I grabbed my keys off the counter and rushed out the door. I hadn't even made it two minutes into the drive before my phone started ringing.

Groaning, I balanced it between my shoulder and ear while fumbling for my hospital pass.

"Catherine speaking."

"Miss Catherine," came Ronald's voice through the receiver, smooth, deep, and enough to momentarily knock the breath out of me.

"I'm calling to remind you of our date."

My brows drew together as I looped the pass around my neck. "Date?"

He chuckled, the low sound doing to me things I didn't want to admit. "It might have been a dream then. But since I have you on the line I'd like to ask you to accompany me to the New Years town gala."

My fingers drummed against the steering wheel. "I..."

"It's strictly business," he cut in. "With everything that happened at the town square, I want to announce my candidacy for mayor. Build some momentum."

I bit the inside of my cheek.

I mean... he wasn't wrong. As his agent, I was supposed to be there for announcements like this, spin the story, follow up with the press. It was my job. Still, after the other night, the night we almost kissed... I almost kissed him, I didn't trust myself around him. Not entirely.

But I couldn't run from him forever. I signed up for this project, and I wasn't a quitter.

"My sister's party is today," I said finally, "but I think I can carve out some time."

"Perfect," he said. "I'll pick you up from the hospital."

"No!" I blurted. "No, it's fine. I have a few things to take care of before then."

A bloody lie but who's keeping track?

"I don't mind," he said smoothly. "Maybe I can help with whatever it is you've got going on."

I laughed nervously. "That's my job, Mr. Tu-Ronald."

"I'll pick you up at five?"

I hesitated, cursed my inability to say no, then sighed. "Five is fine."

"See you then, Miss Catherine."

"Bye."

I pulled up at the hospital parking lot, literally running through the place. By the time I'd got to the top floor I was sweating and out of breath.

Ellie turned with her IV pole in tow. "I was starting to think you'd bailed."

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing. "Not a million years. How can I help?"

She grinned and held up a set of deflated inflatable letters. "Those lungs look healthy. Put them to work."

The lungs in question felt like they were on fire, but regardless of that, I took the letters and got to work while Ellie disappeared with some of her friends.

"Miss Catherine," Hannah, the head nurse, called, beaming as she walked over. "Always wonderful to see you. I see you're already pitching in, as usual. This year's party is going to be our best yet."

She pulled out a chair and added, "The board of directors and a few investors will be joining us."

I slid closer as my curiosity grew. "Is something going on?"

She giggled like we were sharing a secret. "No, dear. Just the usual donor check-in. They want to see where their money's going."

I hummed in response and before I could say anything else, she was called away. Now I noticed it, the slightly over the top decorations, staff in their brightest uniforms, the air was filled with excitement. A smile ghosted over my face but the moment was cut off by the rumble of my stomach.

That's what happens when you leave the house on adrenaline alone. 

I wandered down to my favorite vending machine, popped in some coins, and waited for my candy bar to drop. The wrapper crinkled loudly in the quiet hallway.

I took a bite and sighed. "You really need to get your life together, Catherine," I muttered to the chocolate.

"Don't be too hard on yourself."

I jumped, nearly dropping the candy as I spun around, my pulse thundering in my ears.

"Mr... Ronald." My breath caught. "What are you doing here?"

If I didn't know any better I would have thought he was following around like a stalker. But I did. Ronald didn't chase women, they chased him. 

"I'm here for the party." He announced like that much was obvious. 

My confusion must've shown on my face, because he added, "I'm an investor. Got the invite yesterday. Wasn't planning on coming... until I heard you'd be here."

My breath hitched. Did he just... admit to coming here because of me? Reel it in Catherine. Don't do that thing you usually do, where you overthink and end up getting way ahead of yourself. He probably came to talk about the campaign... yeah. That's probably it.

I forced a polite smile, crumpling the paper of the candy bar. "Enjoy the party Ronald."

I started to walk past him, but his hand gently closed around my arm, sending a wave of heat straight to my face. I looked up at him, his eyes gleaming with unspoken words.

It seemed like time slowed and nothing else existed apart from that moment. But then he slowly let go, clearing his throat.

"Forgive me," he said quietly. "That was uncalled for. I'll be at the main hall with the others."

I nodded stiffly, brushing past him with a weak smile and the crumpled candy wrapper clenched in my fist like it was holding me together.

Why did he always have to look at me like that?

I ducked into the staff lounge, shutting the door behind me as if that flimsy piece of wood could block out the chaos he left in his wake. I slumped into the nearest chair and buried my face in my hands. 

I just needed a moment to gather my thoughts before I could return to Catherine with the nerve of steel. Except the moment didn't come.

Instead, Ellie barged in with a silver paper crown on her head, and a twinkle in her eyes that made me immediately suspicious.

"Guess who's charming the socks off every investor in the main hall?" she said, sing-songing the words like a high school gossip.

I groaned into my hands. "Ellie, don't-"

"Too late," she interrupted gleefully, dropping into the seat beside me. "Your not-boyfriend just made a donation big enough to fund two new pediatric wards. Two, Catherine. I nearly choked on my juice box."

I looked at her sideways. "Maybe he actually believes in the cause."

"Oh, I'm sure he does. But I also think he believes in you," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "You should've seen how he was watching the door. Like some lovesick vampire waiting for his midnight snack."

"Ellie," I warned, fighting the heat creeping up my neck.

She held up her hands. "Fine, fine. I'll drop it. But don't come crying to me when he ends up in the gossip columns with some heiress and you're here pretending you never had a chance."

"I'm not pretending," I muttered. "There is no chance. I'm his agent. This is business. Strictly. Besides I just broke up with Jayden... his son."

Ellie gave me a long, knowing look. "Sure. Just keep telling yourself that."

She left me with that bomb and bounced back into the hallway, probably to terrorize another unsuspecting nurse with her blunt observations. I stayed a moment longer, letting the silence settle around me before finally standing and straightening my dress.

Business.

I kept chanting it like a mantra as I returned to the party preparations, past the cheerful chaos of balloons and sparkly decorations. I managed to avoid Ronald for the next hour, though I caught sight of him a few times, surrounded by donors, a polite smile on his face, but his eyes were always drifting.

It was almost five when Hannah waved me over with a clipboard and a beaming smile.

"Could you help me with the raffle announcements?" she asked. "We're short one volunteer."

"Sure," I said automatically, anything to take my mind off this. 

I was halfway through reading out ticket numbers when I caught a flicker of movement near the entrance. Ronald. He stood by the doors, watching me. Not the raffle. Not the cheerful crowd. Me.

And I hated how that made my heart skip.