Not another Christmas Carol

Chapter One

It was a Christmas I would never forget, marked by the brief return of my nearest and dearest—long since deceased.

Not a morning person by any stretch, but it was crucial to arrive on time at work. As the CEO of a major pharmaceutical company, certain expectations came with the role, especially from myself. Setting a good example for colleagues mattered, though there were no concerns about their performance. With a stellar team, it wouldn't look good to apply a different set of rules for myself. Eager to get to the office, the festive season promised everyone would be in as cheerful a mood as I was.

A final check in the mirror ensured my black bodycon dress wasn't tucked into thick opaque tights. Grabbing the hairbrush, a hurried sweep through unruly knots made the best of my riotous brunette hair. It had certainly seen better days, but time was short. A stray strand clung to my dress; it was gingerly pinched off and blown away, with a wish made. Though this tradition was meant for loose eyelashes, covering all bases didn't hurt—a quirk my late dear friend Lilian used to laugh at.

Winter's miserable weather made it easy to get away with a windswept look. Makeup was considered but dismissed—weather would likely ruin any effort before arrival. The company chauffeur was on standby, but walking was preferred. People-watching and soaking in the sights of New York were morning highlights. The city was breathtaking during Christmas, my favorite time of year.

Bundled in a red wool coat and cream snood, purse in hand, and AirPods in place, the uptown apartment was left. Strolling through New York streets while listening to Won't Fade Away was awe-inspiring.

Storefronts competed for the best festive display, each one enticing with holiday charm. Passing my favorite bookstore, a book signing event for Mistletoe Under the Stars caught my eye. The cover, with a darkened sleeve illuminated by stars, intrigued me. A love-struck couple stood under a starry night sky, with flecks of light scattered across the aurora. The book's synopsis was equally captivating:

Against a backdrop of celestial beauty, Lily, a free-spirited photographer, finds herself unexpectedly drawn back to her childhood home for the holidays. Determined to capture the magic of the Aurora Borealis, she never expects to stumble upon more than just stunning scenery when she finds herself under the mistletoe.

The scent of mulled wine, rich with cinnamon, wafted from the bookstore, tempting a visit. One can never have too many books, but finding time to read them is always a challenge. With a flight to Scotland upcoming, new reading material was needed. Despite the temptation, entering the bookstore was resisted to avoid being late. Besides, the ever-growing to-be-read pile at home already awaited attention. A Christmas Carol, meant to be read to get into the holiday spirit, remained in the drawer, gathering dust. It would accompany the Scotland trip instead. The surprise at my never having read the classic was always evident, with looks of disbelief from others.

Since founding the Lilian Day Pharmaceutical Company, time has been a luxury rarely afforded, though it's a trade-off I willingly accept. Every day brings a sense of gratitude for running my own business. Yet, it wasn't the same without Lilian. Renaming the company after her passing honored Lilian Day, my dear friend and co-partner. Her memory is ever-present, alongside the others lost too soon. Lilian's loss was profound; it felt like the ground had been pulled from under my feet.

Lilian and I founded the company together. Meeting at university, our friendship quickly blossomed into a shared dream of business ownership. After graduation, we combined our resources and took the plunge.

Like me, Lilian came from a medical background, though hers focused on management. Losing her meant not only losing a best friend but also the business acumen she imparted. Thankfully, some staff from her father's former workplace joined our company and helped fill the gaps. Their decision to stay on with me, despite the risk, was a testament to their commitment.