On the ninth day...

There had been nothing all day – not at home, not on her desk in the morning, and not magically appearing during the day. She was almost worried the game was over too soon because of what had happened yesterday when she opened the front cover of the next manuscript in her in-pile and was astounded to find a Christmas Card.

          Grinning, she snatched it up, ignoring the ballerinas on the cover, and flicked right to X’s latest message.

          On the ninth day of Christmas, your true love gives to thee: a gown pimped to the nines, eight maidens in your favourite movies, seven swans for your favourite ballet, six aspirin and a decent lay-in, five golden trinkets, GTA on PS4, three French pens, two turtle gloves and a partridge named Frosty. I know you get stressed on what to wear, so I picked something you’ll knock the socks off of everyone in. Don your gay apparel – X.

            After that the manuscript was temporarily forgotten as she turned her office upside down trying to find the promised outfit. It wasn’t until a courier with a big white box with a black ribbon knocked on the door, a look of poignant fear at the hurricane she’d created in the room, that Abby realised the outfit wasn’t in the office. Yet.

          “Delivery for Miss Abigail Leightley?”

          Abby auspiciously dropped the empty takeaway box she was holding – seriously she had no idea how long it had been there – right into the bin she was hovering over and wiped her hands on her jeans.

          “Er, yes – that’s me.” A lightbulb went off in her head. “Hey,” she murmured conspiratorially as she took the sign sheet from him. “The guy that sent this package – what did he look like?”

          The courier shrugged. “Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t see him. He phoned in and I wasn’t the one to take the call.” She handed him back the clipboard numbly and he smiled at he, tipping his hat. Really. “Have a nice day, ma’am. Merry Christmas.” And he left.

          “Dammit,” Abby muttered under her breath, more than a little peeved that her plan had been foiled.

          Well it had been worth a try, but it sure seemed like her secret admirer was covering his tracks to ensure that his identity really did stay a secret. Either that or Abby was bad a sleuthing. Poirot would have figured it out on day two.

          With a sigh, Abby pushed the thought aside and returned to the black and white gift box perched happily on her desk just taunting her with its perfect wrapping. She tore into it with gusto and gasped at what she found.

          Jess left about a half hour earlier to help the last minute set up at the club their work had hired in Shaftsbury avenue to host their annual Christmas function. Abby, who wasn’t ready at the time had had to admit to her best friend that Raj was picking her up and that it was a date.

          Jess hadn’t exactly reacted the way she’d expected; whilst Abby thought she’d be excited Abby wasn’t just pining over Damien, who she was sure had some nameless blonde lined up for the event, Jess had been practically raging. She’d gesticulated widly that Abby should have been waiting to find out who the admirer was and how could she be certain it was Raj.

          Abby wasn’t certain, but who was she to refuse a date from a smart, kind and attractive man like Raj after years of waiting around for someone else to realise she was there. When Jess had left, she’d left with a look of disappointment that Abby hadn’t expected.

          But by the time Abby finished getting ready and Raj turned up on the doorstep she was feeling a little less crappy. In fact Abby, in the dress the secret admirer who could have been Raj sent her, looked amazing and was starting to feel the same.

          The dress, or gown pimped to the nines, was probably one of the most gorgeous things she’d ever seen. It was exactly her size with the tags taken off so she didn’t try to pull them off and therefore from some mystery location or designer. Not that she was too into designer stuff.

          It was a tea length dress with a full white satin skirt and petticoat of black tulle, and black satin bodice that blended downwards from the thick off the shoulder straps. It was amazing – it was like someone had taken a classy white satin dress and glitz-ed it up with some black paint. The effect was stunning and Abby had never felt prettier.

          She even had some black pumps and a winter coat to go with them.

          “Wow,” Raj breathed as she opened the door to see him. “You look gorgeous! I’m going to be the luckiest guy at the party.”

          The party was manic when they got there. Drinks were flowing like water, people were laughing, a buffet table was set up to the side with a selection of mouth-watering goodies and a top of the range karaoke system was set up on stage. Abby decided to steer clear of that considering how well she couldn’t sing, and not for lack of trying.

          Jess ignored them at first, seemingly still mad, but Abby and Raj piled their plates with food and ordered a round of drinks regardless. They had a great time.

          “So, did you end up finding something perfect for Jess?” Abby asked, brows rising expectantly to let him know without words she knew he had fibbed.

Raj gave her a sheepish look. “You caught me, I didn’t really have Jess as my secret Santa.”

          Abby’s mouth popped open, faking surprise that she didn’t really feel since she’d already known the answer. Then smiled. “I know, I figured it out – but why make it up?”

          Raj took her hand and traced little circles on the back. “You sure have a habit of making men shy around you, you know, Abigail? I didn’t want to come busting in and scare you off too soon. A man can only take so much rejection so I had to play it a little bit sneakier.”

          Sneakier?

          “Oh my god – it is you, isn’t it? You’re my secret admirer! You’re the one who’s been sending me those Christmas cards every day, aren’t you?”

          Raj’s face melted into a cornucopia of confusion as she continued to ramble and about halfway through realised that her theory was wrong.

          “You are the one who’s been sending me Christmas wishes every day, right? My secret admirer? Who sent me this dress?” She gestured to herself. “You said you had to be sneaky...”

          “I’m sorry, Abby, but I’m not the one who’s been sending you cards and presents. I wish I was because I wanted to ask you out, but I can’t claim credit for someone else’s bright ideas.”

          Although she wasn’t too surprised, Abby felt a little crushed. That was her one suspect out of the running now and wave of guilt overcame her.

          “If not you, then who?”

          Raj shook his head, silky locks falling across his forehead. “I’m afraid I don’t know that, it’s a pretty closely guarded secret. Everyone in the office knows about it, but no one is quite sure who it is.”

          Closely guarded secret, she scoffed, more like time to call Poirot or Sherlock Holmes.

          Though despite her humour, Abby was a little more seriously concerned. So Raj wasn’t the admirer – that was unfortunate because of how lovely he was – but that should have been that. But Jess’ words from earlier that evening came back to haunt her a little and Abby’s guilt began to choke her.

          Someone who truly cared about her sent her the dress she was wearing, and here she was out with someone else. There was a code of conduct in life and love, and this did actually cross Abby’s. You didn’t wear one man’s corsage and fraternise with another, her mother would say.

          No wonder Jess had been so mad at her. She was acting too soon and had no business accepting dates just yet until the Twelve Days of Christmas were up.

          “I’m not sure I can do this, Raj.”

          “The steak? It’s delicious but a tad saucy for my taste. Don’t tell my mother though – she’s a lot more traditional than I and would probably keel over to know I eat beef.”

          With a chuckle, Abby shook her head. “I meant about our date. I think that we might need to leave it here – at least for now, until I sort out all this secret admirer business.”

          “Does this mean you’re saying no this being a date after all?”

          Abby smiled and kissed Raj on the cheek. “Yes, I’m sorry, Raj. You’re lovely but I’m afraid right now I’m not in the position to accept anymore dates except from my secret admirer. Friends?”

          His smile could have melted butter. “Friends. Dance with me?”

          Abby placed her hand in his and let him sweep her off her feet and pull her towards the dance floor.

          They had great fun, grooving to the beat, doing the YMCA and drinking flute after flute of champagne. Before long Jess, who seemed to have thawed out her attitude, and Damien, who was suspiciously minus one blonde-haired date, joined them on the dance floor.

          They danced as a unit for a few songs before others joined them and Raj swung Jess into a variant of a swing dance. Seizing the opportunity, Damien made a ridiculous bow and offered himself up.

          “Can I have this dance?”

          Abby took him on with a girlish giggle and let him tug her into a riveting fusion of salsa, tango and the Charleston.

          “You look amazing, Bee - hotter than July, for sure.”

          Abby blushed and tried not to stumble in the dance. “You really think so? My secret admirer sent this to me.”

          Damien shot her a look that could have melted butter...or the knickers of a lesser woman right off. “Your admirer has some pretty great taste. And in case you were wondering: I don’t just mean the dress.”

          As one would have predicted, flustered Abby equalled more champagne, more dancing, and a very valiant attempt to not throw herself at Damien who turned out to be the most charming dance partner.

          Things with Raj weren’t weird despite their failed date and she figured they were pretty well back to being just friends when he cut in, grasped her by the waist and hoisted her onto the stage.

          In front of the whole room.

          Someone made the mistake of cranking up the music on the karaoke box and handballing the microphone to Abby before she could say no. The room looked at her expectantly and the first bars of ‘Meet me at the Mistletoe’ began to play.

          Fear ignited – what if she screwed it up? What if she actually was as terrible as she thought? What if people laughed at her like she was Carrie White?

          “C’mon, Abby – you can do it!”

          “Whoo, Abby!”

          Loving to sing when you thought no one was around and being handed the microphone in front of about a hundred people and told to sing were two very different things. Abby was so scared she almost peed herself.

          Thank god she’d had all that champagne earlier.

          But once the initial terror started to subside, Abby found belting the lyrics out became easier and easier, and it really felt like it was coming from the heart.

          “Do you want me or not? Circle yes or no; baby, I’d go crazy if you meet me at the mistletoe.”

          And when the final notes ended, people actually applauded. Abby was delighted, waving a little and blowing kisses like she’d just finished a wonderful concert. She was enjoying it so much that she leant over the dj, shouted “Strike up, pipers!” and rolled right into ‘Jingle Bell Rock’.

          It was a total movie moment; everything was going so amazing, going so well even after the Raj incident, and she felt practically on top of the world.

          At least until she did a fun little twirl, wrapped the microphone cord around her ankles, lost her balance, and fell right off the stage and into the Christmas tree set up with everyone’s Secret Santa presents.

          Next time, Abby wasn’t going to play their reindeer games. 

Merry Christmas

Sam xox