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And at the same time, it was filled with memories. Graham knew this because Alina had told him the history of each of the unique ornaments as she hung them on the tree. In the end, the tree was like the story of her life. No wonder she liked it so much.
He didn’t have anything like that, but in the next breath, he realized that wasn’t true. He had the company his father had left to him. It was filled with memories, from the first time he could remember sitting in the CEO’s chair when he wasn’t even big enough for his feet to touch the ground to interning when he’d been in college.
And then there was the time he’d gotten to shadow his father throughout the day. It had been bring-your-child-to-work day and he’d badgered his father until he’d agreed to take him to the office. It was that day Graham had sworn to himself that one day he would run the company just like his father had done. He just never thought that day would arrive so soon.
He also remembered his mother’s reaction to the reading of the will—the part that gave Graham controlling interest in the company. His mother had begged him to sell it. He’d refused.
She’d told him that in order to successfully run the company he would have to make sacrifices. Back then he’d thought he’d had all of the answers. He told her he was man enough to make all of the sacrifices necessary. He hadn’t wanted to hear a word his mother said if it was contrary to him living up to his duty as the Toliver heir.
“What do you think?” Alina’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
He blinked and turned to her. “What?”
“The tree. Do you like it?”
He paused to take in the tree once more. “I think it’s amazing. It’s you.”
“It’s me?” Her fine brows scrunched together. “You think I look like a tree? A skinny top and a fat bottom—”
“No! I don’t mean you as in you literally, but it’s made up of little pieces from your life.”
Her brows smoothed and then a smile lifted her pouty lips. “Yes, it is. I never thought of it that way. Is that the way your little Christmas tree was?”
He shook his head. “We always had the same designer ornaments that came as a set.”
“What was Christmas morning like? Or were you so rich growing up that you didn’t care about Santa bringing you presents?”
“I wasn’t as spoiled as you might imagine. My father believed I needed to earn what I got. I don’t even remember how young I was when he started saying that. For all I know, he could have said it as soon as I was out of diapers because I can’t remember anything else.”
“Your father sounds like a tough man.”
Graham shrugged. “He had his moments of softness, like when I had pneumonia. I never saw him so worried. But once I was better, thin
gs went back to normal.”
“Well, Christmas at the Stirling is all about family.”
“But you’re not related to these people.”
“Not biologically, but they’re my family by choice. So we celebrate the holiday by having a potluck dinner and doing a Secret Santa exchange.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It is. It’s not about the extravagance of the presents. It’s about the company. And you’re welcome to join us this year. That is, unless you’re spending the holiday with your mother?”
“Uh, no.” He shook his head. “My mother and I haven’t spent the holidays together since before my father died. We...we had words.” He picked up a small silver ball ornament and rolled it around in his hand. “She accused me of turning into my father.”
“I take it that’s not a good thing.”
“Not the way she meant it. She said I was going to let the business take over my life. I told her I could balance things, but she didn’t believe me.”
“Is she right? Or do you have more dates than you can count?”
He arched a brow. “Why? Are you planning to ask me out?”
* * *
Her asking him out?
