The Promise - By Danielle Steel Page 0,36

magnificent She had printed it herself and enlarged it, and then had it handsomely framed. It was as expressive as a painting.

“You're incredible, Nancy. What a beautiful, beautiful gift.”

“I had a good subject.”

The two women exchanged a hug, and Nancy regretfully shrugged back into her coat “Have a wonderful ski trip.”

“I will. I'll bring you some snow.”

“Smartass.” Nancy hugged her again and they wished each other a Merry Christmas as she left There was a tug at Faye's heart after she was gone. Nancy was a beautiful girl. Inside. Where it mattered.

Chapter 12

“Mr. Calloway's on the line for you, Mr. Hillyard.” The snow had been falling for five or six hours on the already slush-ridden streets of New York, but Michael had noticed nothing. He had been at his desk since six that morning, and it was after five o'clock now. He grabbed for the phone while signing a stack of letters for his secretary to mail. At least the job in Kansas City was off his back. Now he had Houston to worry about, and in the spring he'd be getting ulcers over the medical center in San Francisco. His job was a never-ending stream of headaches and demands, contracts and problems and meetings. Thank God.

“George? Mike. What's up?”

“Your mother's in a meeting, but she asked me to call and tell you that we'll be back from Boston tonight, if the snow lets up. Tomorrow if it doesn't.”

“Is it snowing there?” Michael sounded surprised, as though it were June and snow was preposterous.

“No.” George sounded momentarily confused. “They said there was a blizzard in New York … isn't there?”

Mike looked out his window and grinned. “Yeah, there is. I just hadn't looked. Sorry.”

The boy was killing himself, just as his mother always bad. George wondered for a moment what it was about the breed that made them so hard on themselves, and on the people who loved them. “Anyway, now that we've gotten that settled.” George chuckled for a moment “She wanted me to call you and make sure you're home for Christmas dinner tomorrow night. She has a few friends coming and of course she wants you there.”

Michael took a deep breath as he listened. A few friends. That meant twenty or thirty, all of them people he either disliked or didn't know, and the inevitable single girl, from a good family, for him. It sounded like a stinking way to spend Christmas. Or any other day. “I'm sorry, George. I'm afraid I owe Mother an apology. I've got a prior commitment.”

“You do?” He sounded stunned.

“I meant to tell her last week and I totally forgot. I was so busy with the Houston center that I just never got to it. I'm sure she'll understand.” He'd been working miracles with the Houston client so she'd damn well better understand. Michael knew he had her on that one.

“Well, she'll be disappointed of course, but she'll be pleased to know that you have plans. Something … uh … something exciting, I hope.”

“Yeah, George. A real knockout.”

“Anything serious?” Now George sounded worried. Christ; there was no satisfying them.

“No, nothing to worry about. Just some good clean fun.”

“Excellent Well, Merry Christmas and all that.”

“Same to you, and give Mother my love. I'll call her tomorrow.”

“I'll tell her.” George was wreathed in smiles when he hung up, pleased that the boy was finally recovering. Michael had been leading a very strange life for a while there. Marion would be relieved, too, though undoubtedly she'd be mad as hell for a few minutes that he wouldn't be home for dinner with her friends. But he was young after all. He had a right to a little fun. George grinned to himself as he took a sip of his Scotch and remembered a Christmas in Vienna Twenty-five years before. And then, as always, his thoughts wandered back to Michael's mother.

In Michael's office, the phone continued to ring. Ben wanted to be sure he had plans. Michael assured him that he would be at his mother's, boring but expected, and assorted clients called, alternately to complain, congratulate, and wish him a Merry Christmas. As he hung up after the last one he muttered to himself, “Ah go to hell,” and then looked up in surprise when he heard unfamiliar laughter from the doorway. It was that new interior designer Ben had hired. A pretty girl, too, with rich auburn hair that fell in thick waves to her shoulders and set off creamy skin and blue eyes.