Finding Mr. Christmas

Chapter 1

Serena

The familiar hum of an airplane engine fills my ears as I flip through emails on my tablet. Another city, another crowd hanging on my every word about love and connection. The irony isn't lost on me.

"Ms. Caldwell?" The flight attendant's voice breaks through my thoughts. "We'll be landing in New York in twenty minutes."

"Thanks." I smooth down my blazer, already planning the quick change I'll need before tonight's speaking engagement.

My phone buzzes with a text from my assistant: "Today's schedule: Book signing at 2, TV interview at 4, keynote at 7. Tomorrow's clients confirmed for virtual sessions."

The past two years flash through my mind like a highlight reel. From that first podcast appearance to now – bestselling author, sought-after speaker, relationship expert to the stars. My Instagram followers jumped from a few thousand to millions. It’s been one wild ride.

"Ms. Caldwell, can I please get your autograph?" The woman in the seat across the aisle leans over. "My husband and I were on the brink of divorce before we read your book."

"Of course." I reach for her proffered notebook, my signature practiced and flowing. "How are things now?"

"So much better. That chapter about rediscovering small moments of joy? Changed everything. We are so grateful."

My chest warms at her words, even as exhaustion tugs at my bones. This is why I do it – why I live out of suitcases and sacrifice my own social life. Every restored relationship, every couple finding their way back to each other, makes it worth it.

I open my calendar app, scanning the endless rows of commitments. Tokyo next week, then Sydney, followed by London. Virtual sessions squeezed between time zones. My latest book tour has gone international, and the demand keeps growing.

The captain announces our descent. I close my eyes, centering myself for what's ahead. Another city, another chance to help people find what I write about but haven't had time to pursue myself – love.

A few short hours later, a makeup artist dabs a final touch of powder on my face as the television studio buzzes with pre-show energy. My navy blazer feels crisp against my skin, the material cool in the dimmed room.

"Two minutes, everyone!" A production assistant scurries past, headset firmly in place.

Whispers flutter around me like moths, crew members positioning themselves behind cameras and adjusting equipment. The host, Gary Bronstein, adjusts his earpiece across from me, his signature red glasses catching the minimal light.

"Nervous?" Gary mouths at me with a knowing smile.

I shake my head, though my fingers trace the hem of my sleeve. Six months ago, maybe. Now it's just another day at the office.

"Three, two, one...!" The voice rings out clear and sharp.

The director, a slim man with salt-and-pepper hair, makes a silent gesture. The studio lights bloom to life, washing everything in artificial daylight. The red recording light blinks on, steady and unwavering.

"Good evening, New York." Gary's rich baritone voice carries that perfect blend of authority and warmth. "I'm Gary Bronstein, and tonight we're joined by relationship expert and bestselling author Serena Caldwell. Her new book 'Love in the Digital Age' has topped charts for six straight weeks, and she's here to discuss the challenges of modern romance."

The camera swings to capture us both as Gary turns to me. "Serena, welcome to Nightly News."

"Thanks for having me, Gary." My smile comes naturally, practiced yet genuine. "It's great to be here in New York."

"Let's talk about your incredible journey," Gary leans forward in his chair. "From small-town beginnings to becoming America's go-to relationship expert. What sparked this passion?"

My fingers fold comfortably in my lap. "Well, Gary, it started with watching people around me struggle to connect. We're more connected than ever through screens, yet somehow more isolated. I wanted to bridge that gap."

"And bridge it you have. You certainly did. Your success rate with clients is remarkable."

"Every relationship is unique. I just help people discover their own answers."

"Speaking of answers..." Gary adjusts those signature red frames, and I recognize the tell – he's about to pivot. "Your readers are very curious. Here you are, helping countless couples find and maintain love, yet you remain single yourself. Some might find that... contradictory?"

The studio lights feel warmer suddenly. I've fielded this question before, but it still strikes a nerve. Still, my smile doesn't waver. I fight down personal discomfort and blast through the attempt at hijacking the interview.

"Being an expert in relationships isn't always about knowing how to fix them, Gary. It's also about knowing when not to get into one."

His eyebrows lift. "Intriguing perspective. Care to elaborate?"

"Think of it this way – a surgeon doesn't need to have experienced every operation they perform. They need expertise, understanding, and the ability to see the bigger picture. My focus is helping others navigate their relationships, not collecting personal case studies."

"Touché." Gary's laugh carries genuine appreciation. "Though I'm sure you have no shortage of interested parties."

"My relationship status isn't nearly as interesting as the work I do. Did you know that seventy percent of modern relationships struggle with digital interference? That's what we should be talking about."

Gary's expression shifts, and my stomach drops before he even opens his mouth. I know that look – the one journalists get when they think they're about to break open a story.

"Speaking of digital romance and relationships, there's been quite a buzz about your connection to tech mogul Daniel Hartman."

My fingers tighten imperceptibly on the armrest. "My book actually has a fascinating chapter about workplace relationships—"

"Sources say you two were quite close during your college years at Yale." Gary leans forward, those red frames gleaming under the studio lights. "Before his meteoric rise at Hartman Technologies."

The makeup feels heavy on my face as heat creeps up my neck. "The digital age has created unique challenges for modern couples—"

"In fact, some speculate that your insights into relationship dysfunction stem from personal experience with—"

"Gary." My tone remains pleasant, but there's steel underneath. "While I appreciate your interest in my ancient history, my work focuses on helping people build stronger connections in the present. My international tour has shown me that relationship struggles are universal, transcending culture and status."

"But surely your experience with Daniel—"

"Let's talk about what really matters to your viewers." I uncross and recross my ankles, the only tell I allow myself. "The techniques in my book have helped thousands of couples worldwide navigate the complexities of modern love. Just last week in Singapore, I worked with a couple who'd been sleeping in separate rooms because of their phone addiction."

The producer makes a cutting motion behind the camera, but Gary persists. "Interesting deflection. Some might say your reluctance to discuss Daniel Hartman suggests unresolved—"

"What I suggest," My smile doesn't waver, though my chest tightens, "is that anyone struggling with digital boundaries in their relationship pick up a copy of 'Love in the Digital Age.' The chapter on setting healthy limits might be particularly relevant."

The studio lights burn against my skin as the anticipation of Gary's continued attack hangs in the air. Behind camera three, Kyle, the producer, makes a slashing motion across his throat again, but Gary barrels on like a freight train without brakes.

"Your methods have helped countless couples," Gary continues, adjusting those infernal red frames that he clearly chose to make some kind of statement. "But let's address the elephant in the room – the Hartman Technologies launch party incident." His tone drips with the kind of manufactured concern that makes my skin crawl, the same way he's been needling at this topic since the pre-interview. I can already feel my carefully crafted media smile threatening to crack at the corners.

My throat constricts,  familiar panic threatening to rise. The memory flashes unbidden: champagne glasses shattering against marble floors, cameras flashing like strobe lights, Daniel's face twisted in shock and something else I still can't bear to name. I force my breathing to remain steady, falling back on the meditation techniques I so often recommend to my clients. My hands want to fidget with my necklace, but I keep them perfectly still in my lap.

"Ancient history," I say, though the words taste like ash in my mouth. My voice comes out smoother than I feel inside, years of media training not entirely wasted. "My work stands on its own merits." I meet Gary's gaze directly, daring him to push further, while silently praying he'll take the hint and move on to literally anything else.

"Does it?" Gary shuffles his notes, the paper rustling like an accusation in the suddenly tense studio air. "The video went viral. Over ten million views of you throwing champagne in Daniel Hartman's face, calling him – what was it? 'An emotional black hole masquerading as a human being?'" His eyes glint with the predatory satisfaction of a journalist who's cornered his prey. The memory of that night flashes through my mind - the crystal flute in my hand, the shocked faces of the other guests, Daniel's expensive suit dripping with Dom Pérignon. Even now, years later, the embarrassment burns hot under my skin.

The corner of my mouth twitches. "People change. Grow. That's what my work is about."

"Yet the timing is interesting. Your first book deal came just months after that incident. Some might say you built your career on that publicity."

My knuckles whiten against the armrest, and I feel the smooth leather crackle under my grip. Kyle steps forward, his producer instincts kicking in to protect his investment, but I hold up a hand. After years of dealing with skeptics and cynics, I've weathered worse storms than Gary Bronstein and his gotcha journalism tactics.

"My career is built on results, Gary. Thousands of successful couples can attest to that." I lean forward slightly, letting my voice take on the calm, authoritative tone that's become my trademark in counseling sessions, though I feel anything but. "And if you'd done your research beyond viral videos, you'd know that I had already helped hundreds of couples before that night ever happened."

"But the question remains." He leans forward, voice dropping to that practiced, sympathetic tone that makes my skin crawl. "How can women believe you're teaching them how to keep their man when you couldn't even keep yours?"