Page 9 of The Best Christmas Choir Ever

Julian tugged on the collar of his shirt. “I was actually showing our executive director some of the donations we’ve received recently,” he said. “Trying to butter her up to get funding for a music director. Unfortunately it’s not in the budget this year. Or any year, judging by the way things are going.” He sighed, trying not to let the defeat overwhelm him. “But that’s life. Just another hill to climb. I guess I’ll try going down the volunteer route again.”

“I’m sure someone will jump at the chance to volunteer,” Doris said.

“Problem is I think I’ve already squeezed all I can out of the community. At least anyone that can carry a tune.”

“Oh, well, if carrying a tune is your only prerequisite, Charlie can do it,” Doris piped up.

Charlie opened her mouth, looking from him to her grandmother, slightly horrified. “Um…no. I’m very busy.”

“You’d do a favor for an old…friend.”

“Gram—”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Charlie scowled at her.

For a moment Julian thought Doris had been about to say old flame, and he was going to throw himself out the elevator door the second it stopped. But then he took a second to actually consider Doris’s suggestion.

Charlie was a Juilliard grad. She was far more qualified to be hosting a music class than he was. If she’d volunteer, he could relaunch the program temporarily.

Then again, did he even want her to volunteer? That would mean spending time with the person who stomped on his heart all those years ago with zero regard.

He’d been hoping to avoid her and Doris, if only to hide from all the damn memories that had resurfaced at the mere sight of her, but how could he even consider throwing away an opportunity like this for his residents? If Charlie was willing to do this, then he had to put his past feelings aside. He would. “Do you think you’d have the time?”

Her eyes cut toward him, the heat of her stare making the space between them swelter, but he knew he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t give into the strangling tension that stretched between them without giving himself away, without revealing that he was remembering everything, so he locked in and held her gaze.

“She’s got nothing but time,” Doris said. “Isn’t that right?”

“I have your entire house to get sorted,” Charlie muttered. “Which is going to take loads of time.”

“I don’t need loads of time,” Julian said. He lifted his hand, fingers measuring out a pinch. “Just a little of it.”

Charlie’s nostrils flared. She’d always been a little feisty, and he’d liked that spark.

“Toss some stuff in storage and sell the rest. C’mon.” Doris bumped her shoulder. “You’re going to need something to keep you occupied while you wait for things to sell and for your parents to get back for Christmas.”

“I don’t know if I was planning on hanging around until Mom and Dad got back.” Charlie glared at her grandmother, and they seemed to be having a sort of silent conversation. Julian would have looked away, but where else was there to look? “All right,” Charlie conceded after a moment. “Fine.”

Doris nodded approvingly.

“Really?” Julian said. It wasn’t the most enthusiastic yes, but it was still a yes. “I wouldn’t want to put you out or anything.”

“She’d love to,” Doris insisted.

“Apparently I would love to,” Charlie said. She gave him a thin smile.

“Okay, great.” He wasn’t a fool. This was definitely the last thing either of them wanted. But if he had learned anything in this job, it was to take people up on their offers, no matter how sincere they were. It was easy to ignore the elderly and to push their needs aside. So if he wanted to bring music back to Glendale, then he needed all the help he could get. Even if that came in the form of a reluctant ex who probably wished she’d let the elevator door slam in his face.

The elevator stopped, and the door opened. Julian walked out, turning to them. “I’ve gotta run, but find me tomorrow,” he said to Charlie, “and I’ll show you the music room.”

“I can’t wait,” she muttered, her tone heavily sarcastic. The door closed as her eyes narrowed, cutting toward her grandmother.

Three

Charlie

“I can’t believe I let you volunteer me for this,” Charlie said, meeting her grandmother in the lobby of Glendale.