Snowflakes and Sapphires Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Kristina Beck

  About the Author

  Snowflakes and Sapphires

  Copyright © 2019 Kristina Beck

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-3-947985-06-7

  To Babette

  May God bless and guide you through good and bad times.

  Chapter 1

  Sophia

  I rest my elbows on the edge of the skating rink wall and sigh with content. The view in front of me is just like the movies and postcards I’ve seen of Central Park in New York City during the holidays. A fresh coating of fluffy snow covers the expansive grass and trees. Skyscrapers peek over the trees to watch the throngs of tourists and residents who wander through the park each day.

  I arrived in New York City four days ago. The first thing I did was treat myself to a new haircut. I haven’t had a chance to get my hair done in months, due to my tight business travel schedule. It’s amazing what a fresh cut and highlights can do for someone. I feel like a new woman.

  I glance to the right, and then I see him. “Wait. No!” I stand tall, and my back becomes ramrod straight. “Stop! What are you doing?” I screech, and wave my arms around. “Those are my boots! Someone, stop him. He stole my boots!” I’m a decent skater, but right now, it’s a wonder I stay upright. I smack the side of the ice rink several times, trying to catch the attention of anyone on the outside of the rink. Of course, the woolen mittens I’m wearing muffle the sound to the point that they wouldn’t hear it even if they were standing next to me. “Please. Stop him!” I continue to yell.

  A few people halt and look in the direction I’m pointing, then shrug and go on their merry way. No one runs after him, and it’s not like I can run after him with ice skates on, even if I could get off the ice from here. Skaters continue to glide by like this is an everyday occurrence. Maybe it is, since I’m in New York. This is certainly not my hometown in Germany.

  Now he’s so far away that I can’t see where he is anymore. “Shit.” I drop my head and shake it.

  I was being careful to skate close to where I’d left my boots, and just when I stop to suck in the scenery, some guy snatches them faster than Spiderman could with his webs. He must’ve been watching for the most opportune time. I have a brain but no common sense sometimes.

  My hometown builds an ice rink every year. My sister and I used to go skating as much as we could. We never had to worry about leaving our shoes on the side. It’s been years since I’ve gone ice skating—I’m not home long enough to enjoy anything anymore. But how could I pass up an opportunity to skate at the Wollman Rink in Central Park at Christmas time? I didn’t expect this nonsense.

  I grip the side of the rink wall with one hand and kick the ice with the toe pick on my left skate. What do I do now? My eyes dart back and forth, and my heart pounds. This isn’t the time to panic. But my shoes are gone! How the hell am I supposed to get back to my apartment? I’m not going to walk home in rented ice skates. I’ll look ridiculous and probably be arrested for stealing them too.

  A girl slams into the wall near me, and I jolt to the side.

  “I heard you yell and saw your arms flailing about.” She imitates me, then catches herself before she wipes out on the ice. “Are you okay?”

  I chuckle, even though I’m still pissed off. “Maybe I should be asking you. You hit that wall pretty hard.”

  She removes the fluffy pink earmuffs she’s sporting. Then shakes out her long blond hair that has light streaks of pink swirling through it. A knitted pink scarf is wrapped tightly around her neck. It kind of looks like a boa constrictor.

  Actually, I might need one of those for the brutal temperatures that are forecast this week.

  The girl laughs. “I’m the biggest klutz. Why do you think I wear this bulky winter jacket that covers my butt? It’s not just because of the cold. I suck at skating, but it’s fun. I come here a lot with my seven-year-old niece. She’s better than me. My sister-in-law just picked her up though. I thought I’d stay a little longer. So what happened?”

  “Some guy just ran off with my damn boots.” I point in the direction he ran. “I bought them before I came to New York. And not one person tried to help me,” I say with disgust.

  She gapes. “You didn’t rent a locker? You can’t leave things lying around in New York City. You’re basically giving them away.”

  I look down, suddenly embarrassed. I may be business savvy, but I don’t always have street smarts. “I forgot to ask for a locker when I rented my skates, and the line was too long to go back. I saw other people leaving their shoes on the ground. It’s Christmas. Isn’t it supposed to bring out the best in people?”

  “Yeah… it brings out the worst too.”

  I stretch a foot out in front of me and wiggle the skate. “Now I need to figure out how to get home.”

  “What’s your shoe size?”

  “Umm.” I’m blank. What is my American size? I’ve traveled to so many cities, I can’t keep my shoe size straight.

  Her forehead crinkles. “You don’t know your size?”

  It hits me. “Seven,” I blurt out. “I’m from Germany. The shoe sizes are different.”

  “Wow, you don’t have a foreign accent at all. I would’ve never guessed. I’d ask you more questions, but my feet are killing me. I need to take these disgusting skates off.”

  She looks me up and down, then tilts her head. “Are you a tourist?”

  “No. I arrived a couple days ago. I’ll be working here for six months.”

  Her eyes squint. “You’re here alone?”

  I crinkle my nose and pull my head back. “Yes.”

  “Prison record of any kind?”

  I guffaw. “Absolutely not.” What’s with the interrogation?

  “Okay.” She shrugs. “You seem pretty harmless. I have an extra pair of shoes in my locker. They’re size eight, but it’s better than your toes falling off before you get home.”

  I follow her out of the rink. “I can’t take your shoes. You don’t even know me.”

  She points to an empty bench. “You can, and you will. I have to go to work in a little while, but we’ve got enough time to find you a new pair of boots. I’ll be right back.”

  I plop down and almost jump back up. It’s like sitting on a glacier with no pants on. Trying to ignore the sting from the cold, I think about her offer. Should I borrow a stranger’s shoes? She seems normal and friendly. What if she has a foot fungus? But it’s worth the risk and better than frostbite. Right?

  Wait. What am I thinking? If I’m going to get a fungus, it’ll be from these grotesque blue skates I rented, not from her.

  She co
mes back and sits next to me. “My name is Lacey, by the way.”

  “I’m Sophia. Nice to meet you.” We shake mittens.

  “I love that name. Nice to meet you too, Sophia from Germany.” She removes her mittens, then pulls a pair of worn Nike sneakers out of a backpack and places them by my feet. “Here you go.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’m glad to help.” She pulls on her pink snow boots in a flash. “Let’s get out of here. I’m freezing my ass off. It hasn’t been this cold in December in years.”

  We head out to the street and start walking. Within minutes, she stops in front of a fancy store entrance. “This is where I work. I’m sure you can find something in here.”

  I look up at the sign and get shoved a few times from customers going in and out of the entrance. “Bloomingdale’s? You work here?”

  “Well, I volunteer here for a few hours every Saturday. I wrap gifts for free during the holidays. It’s my third year now. I love it.” She elbows me, then whispers, “The tips are great too. And Bloomingdale’s donates their share to a homeless shelter. Damn, it’s hot in here.” She shucks off her coat and tosses it over her arm.

  I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone so nice and generous. These days, it seems like most people are in on everything for themselves. I know there are good people out there, but I haven’t met many lately, especially in the business world.

  She leads me to the crowded shoe department and has me try on tons of boots. It’s fun, but I only need a replacement. Anyway, thirty minutes later, I’m wearing a new pair and carrying a bag with another in it that I don’t need but love.

  I’m learning how to treat myself once in a while. I was tempted to buy a sapphire-and-diamond necklace yesterday, until I saw the price. It was so out of my league—but my favorite part was the salesman. He could’ve sold me a bag of used cat litter just with his kind hazel eyes alone.

  He didn’t look like a typical salesman for such a high-end jewelry store. More like someone who’d live in a log cabin as a lumberjack. Flannel shirt and boots, a slightly scruffy beard. I don’t usually like facial hair, but it fit him. His dark brown hair was a little unruly but sexy in its own way. Then there were his large hands—I couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel against my skin. I even got a glimpse of his perfect ass in his jeans. And when he put his glasses on, I was a goner. Am I weird to think glasses are sexy? Maybe it’s my inner nerd speaking.

  And he was so attentive! He couldn’t be a sleazy salesman even if he tried. His eyes sparkled as much as the jewels under the lights in the store. Butterflies were throwing a New Year’s Eve party in my stomach. And then he placed this stunning necklace on me, and his fingers brushed the back of my neck… My heart hammered so hard, I could hardly breathe. Goosebumps tickled my skin and, I swear, my cheeks felt like they were sunburned. But that’s where it ended. He got a phone call and never came back. I hung around for a little while, looking at more jewelry with a salesgirl who came out. I kept hoping he’d come back, but he didn’t.

  Lacey bumps my elbow, and I realize she’s still talking. “You have great taste in boots. I should’ve bought a pair, but I have way too many already.”

  I give her a quick grin. “I can’t thank you enough for your help today, Lacey. I guess you have to work now, huh? I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Oh, nothing to it. ’Tis the season, right? And you’re not in my way. I’ll go downstairs with you. Want to see where the wrapping station is? It’s pretty cool. It’s on the first floor near the side entrance. Not the one we walked in. Come on!” She steps on the escalator first and almost falls forward. She yelps, and I grab hold of her bright pink cashmere sweater to steady her.

  “Whoa. That was scary. Thanks for the save. I told you I’m a klutz. My brothers have been making fun of me since birth.”

  Should I be wary of this girl? I don’t get a negative vibe from her, and she’s really sweet. She’s a disaster waiting to happen though. It’d be nice to make a friend since I’ll be in New York for a while. I usually don’t spend Christmas alone. My sister said she’d try to come, but she hasn’t been able to arrange it around her work schedule. The novelty of being in New York City will wear off once the holidays are over too, I’m sure.

  “Look over there.” Lacey points to the right as we step off the escalator. “That’s where we need to go.”

  The crowd in here is vicious. It doesn’t help that I’m carrying around this bulky shopping bag with my boots in it. I feel like a ping-pong ball.

  I catch a view of the expansive counter. It’s not only a table with wrapping paper, scissors, and tape. It’s like a winter wonderland. Two exquisitely decorated Christmas trees with white lights and gold-tipped white flowers and balls stand tall and proud on either side of the wide counter. The angels on top look like China dolls. Garlands wrapped in white twinkle lights, strands of golden beads, and crystal snowflakes hang from the ceiling. Against the wall is a massive cabinet with several drawers overflowing with wrapping materials. The sound of Nat King Cole singing Christmas carols lends a perfect finishing touch to the holiday atmosphere.

  I would’ve loved to have had all this for the packages I used to wrap for my parents when they had their bakery back home. We wrapped every order to perfection, and not only for Christmas.

  “Wow, this is amazing. Bloomingdale’s takes wrapping to a whole new level.”

  “They sure do. I had to interview for this job, and it’s only volunteer. Not just anyone can wrap gifts apparently.” She glances at her watch. “Time for my shift. Stay around awhile.”

  Lacey embraces the other volunteers warmly and chats for a few minutes before they leave. She pulls her hair away from her face, then braids it at the bottom. I stand to the side and remove my coat. She was right––it’s like a sauna in here.

  Her first wrapped present looks like a piece of art that I’d be afraid to open. A Chinese woman and her little son walk up to the counter. I’m close enough to hear what she says to Lacey. She has a thick accent and doesn’t speak English very well. She turns to her whining son and tells him to calm down in Mandarin. Lacey glances my way with help written across her forehead.

  I actually can help Lacey. Time to repay her for her generosity.

  I step in and ask the woman in Mandarin how she would like her gift wrapped. I translate everything for her and explain to Lacey what she wants. The lady thanks me profusely when she leaves and drops a twenty-dollar bill in the ceramic box that looks like a toy chest.

  Lacey’s eyes are wide. “Okay, what the hell was that?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I’m fluent in Mandarin.”

  Some people are born with gifts. Mine is learning and speaking languages. I speak ten of them, fluently. From the moment I started to learn a foreign language in elementary school, it was second nature to me. I was a sponge. Like math equations to a mathematician, languages were my obsession. Teachers were always astounded by how quickly I’d pick up the structure, grammar, and pronunciation. They called me a prodigy. I enjoyed learning them too, so I knew early on that my future would revolve around languages. The chance to utilize my talent in the melting pot of New York City is a dream come true. It’s music to my ears when I hear different foreign tongues circulating through the air like a gentle breeze. I haven’t been here in a couple of years.

  “That was so cool. I wish you worked here with me. New York is bustling with tourists from all around the world during the holiday season. That wasn’t the first time I couldn’t understand a customer.”

  “Well, I overheard that the other volunteer isn’t coming. I don’t have any plans. I can stay and help. If you think my first present isn’t up to Bloomingdale’s quality, you can fire me,” I joke.

  Her smile widens. “You have a deal. At this point, I wouldn’t care as long as you can translate for me, regardless of what my boss might say. I haven’t seen her yet today, so it doesn’t even matter.”

  I help the next cus
tomer that comes to us. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Now it feels even more like Christmas. I’m amazed at the huge variety of paper, ribbons, beads, gems, tiny jingle bells, dried flowers, silver or gold pinecones—whatever you want to decorate your package, they have it.

  Lacey pats me on the shoulder. “You speak different languages and wrap like a professional. You’re hired. Let’s get busy.”

  We work together steadily for the next few hours. My feet hurt from standing in my new boots. Now I know why Lacey put her sneakers on. I wipe perspiration off my forehead with the back of my arm. Where is a bottle of water when I need it? Someone should prop open an entrance door.

  An older man, impeccably dressed, comes to the counter. He asks if I speak Italian. Yes, I do. He hands me a paperweight in the shape of a whale spouting water out its hole. He explains to me that his grandson is obsessed with whales. It’s hideous, but I’m just the wrapper.

  I inspect a couple of nearby boxes to see if any would fit. None of them do. I step away from the table.

  “Hey, Drew,” Lacey calls to someone nearby just as I find the perfect box. “Why are you standing there with that goofy grin on your face? Come meet my new friend, Sophia.”

  I look up to see who she’s talking to. I do a double take. No. It can’t be! The box slips from my fingers and topples to the floor. He quickly comes to my rescue, picks up the box, and hands it to me.

  “Hi, Sophia,” he says softly. “We meet again.”

  The corners of my mouth tug higher and higher. I have never been so happy to see someone I hardly know. This can’t be a coincidence.

  Chapter 2

  Drew

  This damn lobster clasp is a pain in the ass on this delicate bracelet. I need my flat-nosed pliers, and of course, they’re nowhere to be found. My tools always seem to disappear. I walk out front to search for them and see the store is empty. That’s strange because we’re usually busy at this time of day. Lily stepped to the back to put the glass cleaner away, and I know the other salesclerk called out sick. But where’s the new security guard, Anthony? Someone should always be in the front. I’ll have to stay up here now, till someone else comes out.