One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story) by Mandy Baggot

heavily speckled with white – appearing like an oasis in a grey desert.
    He had been stupid to go out with Tony tonight. He’d gone out looking for something – anything – as some sort of punishment by proxy for Clara and his mother. It served him right for ending up at a table with someone keener than a teenager in an Apple store.
    Oliver walked over to the windows and stood close, watching the constant stream of snowflakes drifting past the glass. A thickening stack was piling up on his balcony. Like the big fat layer of misery he was living in.
    He hated the fact that everything in his life was pre-ordained. It was his lot, because of who he was, just like with the company. That wasn’t his dream, it was his father’s and Ben’s. And now it was his burden to bear whether he wanted it or not. Along with the short life expectancy he probably wasn’t helping with the Scotch. Perhaps Tony was right, drowning himself in bourbon would be a relatively painless way to go.
    He closed his eyes remembering his dream, the one so different to Richard and Ben’s. Football. He’d been nothing short of the best, destined for a career with one of the big teams. It had felt so good being able to strike out on his own, a job path all set, a future secured that didn’t involve the family business. And then it had just been ripped away from him, snatched right out of his hands, his trail turning back towards Drummond Global after all. He hadn’t wanted it. He’d wanted something of his own, not just a legacy to fulfil. And that was where the Globe came in. By creating something that was going to revolutionise the tablet market he was finally going to get his moment. It wasn’t winning the Super Bowl for his team but it was the closest he was going to get.
    Oliver slugged back some more whisky and watched the lights reflecting from the other buildings’ windows. It was time for change. It was time he took full ownership of his role. There was no shirking it so he may as well make the most of it. His mother and Clara had both clawed their way into his psyche today but only because he had let them. Why should he feel so freaking guilty about not wanting to go home for Christmas? Why was he letting himself get cornered into situations? He couldn’t do the church and the carols and the celebrating Jesus’ birth because it meant nothing to him now. What had God ever done for his family except wipe half of them out?
    Tomorrow he was going to go into the office and make everybody remember who the boss of Drummond Global really was. And he was going to prove to himself that that boss didn’t wear a designer dress suit or a statement necklace.
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    Dean Walker’s Apartment, Downtown Manhattan
    Angel had fallen asleep in the back of the car as soon as it had set off from the Chinese restaurant. Now, laying in a pinker than pink bed in one of the spare bedrooms of Dean’s apartment, she was barely awake as Hayley brushed her hair.
    ‘Do we have to do my hair?’ The words were hardly audible through a giant yawn.
    ‘If we don’t do it now it will be in knots in the morning and you’ll moan and groan and I’ll get cross … it’s just easier if we do it now.’ Hayley ran the brush through her daughter’s brown hair. ‘You can close your eyes.’
    She watched Angel’s eyes shut and her shoulders relax.
    ‘So, did you enjoy the Chinese food?’ Hayley asked.
    ‘Can we go there again?’ Angel asked, lips barely moving apart.
    ‘I guess so. But we’re in New York now. There are thousands of other restaurants we can try.’ She smiled. ‘Reasons Christmas is better in New York number 9 – much more than Pizza Hut, McDonald’s and Nandos.’
    She ran the brush through Angel’s hair again. In this moment, when it was late, when her stomach was full and her brother was in the kitchen making hot chocolate, what she was here to do really hit her. She was going to make her daughter’s wish come true. She was going to scour