“Dear Father Christmas…”
What would be the sweetest Christmas gift of all?
The elevator doors closed on the last of the partygoers, and my shoulders slumped. “Are you okay, Mr. Williams?” I forced a smile and turned to look at my executive assistant – who was, of course, the last one to leave. “I’m fine, Justine, just tired. You have to admit, it’s been a busy time. I’ll look forward to getting some rest.” But I couldn’t quite meet her eyes, then covered it by laughing. “And now, it’s time for y...