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Chapter 20
Abby
Abby looked around at her festive surroundings. The living room of Mrs. Trelawney’s gorgeous mansion, high atop the mountains of Valentine Bay and overlooking the Pacific Ocean from the grand floor to ceiling windows, was spectacular.
Of course, the room was impressive on its own. Nothing in this perfectly-appointed home was less than magnificent. But add in the holiday decor? She may as well have been standing in the middle of the holiday edition of Architectural Digest or House Beautiful.
Fir bunting was draped elegantly from the molding, subtle and elegant white twinkle lights tucked into the branches. A large and professionally decorated Christmas tree stood in the far corner of the room by the fireplace, in which a cheerful and cozy fire roared, and burgundy velvet ribbon wrapped and tied in the most beautiful configurations around the room completed the Christmas touches.
Adding to the ambience, Christmas carols were being piped into the room at exactly the right volume– quiet enough so that it wouldn’t impede conversation, but loud enough to fill anyone but the biggest Scrooge with Christmas cheer.
Well, Abby figured, apparently I am that Scrooge. Because I don’t feel anything even approximating the holiday spirit right now. Bah freaking humbug.
Then, Mrs. Trelawney walked over to her and the reason why she felt so distinctly un-Christmas-y came flooding back to her in an instant.
“Darling,” Mrs. Trelawney began, in a tone that made it clear to Abby that Mrs. T viewed her as anything but darling. “I see people with empty glasses. That simply will not do. Circulate, my dear. Circulate.”
Abby gave the older woman the most patient smile she could manage and explained, not for the first time, “Again, Mrs. Trelawney. I am supplying the vintages for your gathering. And I’m also volunteering my time as a resident expert for your guests, should they wish to discuss any of the wines being served tonight. But I’m not part of the catering staff, and serving does not fall within my job description.”
Mrs. Trelawney waved her hand as if the explanation didn’t matter at all. Abby figured that, to her, it probably didn’t. But Abby couldn’t help herself, she had to keep setting the boundary. If she let herself be steamrolled, who knew where it would end?
“Just…just see that it’s taken care of, would you? Be a dear. Off you go.”
Abby gritted her teeth and prepared to deliver another calm but firm response, but her hostess’ attention had moved in the direction of the front door. The woman’s face lit up like the star on top of the Christmas tree across the room. “Oh, wonderful! My last-minute guest of honor has arrived.”
Abby followed her gaze to see who’d delighted her client so completely.
And then she couldn’t help but laugh when she saw it was Jet. Because, of course it was.
His eyes scanned the room and lit up when they found Abby, and her insides did the same. They were a matching pair.
“I can’t believe Jet Valentine was able to make it on such short notice,” Mrs. Trelawney gushed. “His grandmother assured me that she would insist, but that only goes so far with young people, you know?”
Abby tilted her head at the woman. “Mrs. Trelawney, I have to admit that I’m surprised you’re even familiar with Jet’s band, or his music.”
Abby was treated to a repeat of the hand wave gesture, as if what she’d said was of no real consequence. “My goodness, I’m certainly not. No, in my view, the only rock and roll music worth listening to died with Elvis.”
“O…kay…” Abby said, drawing out the word in puzzlement. “Why are you so excited that he’s here, then?”
“Because he’s in the news, darling. He’s not only a celebrity, but a person of particular current interest. That makes him the biggest ‘get’ of the holiday party circuit. And I’m the one who got him. Now, shoo, dear. He’s coming over.”
Abby gritted her teeth. Normally, she was about as likely to respond to someone commanding her to “shoo” as she was to someone commanding her to stand on one leg and bark like a dog, but she swallowed her pride and turned on her heel. Mrs. Trelawney threw this holiday wine and cheese party every year, and since the word “wine” was actually in the name of the party, Abby definitely wanted to remain the regular annual vendor. It did wonders for her bottom line, if not for her sanity.
She’d only taken a couple of steps in the opposite direction, though, when she heard Jet’s voice ringing across the room. “Abs! Where are you going? Get back here!”
Shit. Before she even turned and saw the woman’s face, she knew that this wasn’t going to go over well with Mrs. Trelawney. Still, she knew the only thing to do was slap on a full-strength holiday spirit smile and do her best to ignore the passive aggressive digs she was certainly about to endure.
She spun around and got back to where she’d originally been standing at the same time that Jet reached the little group.
Sure enough, Mrs. T cut her eyes to Abby, and the look in them was enough to let her know that she was about to be on the receiving end of a whole lot of insincere “darlings” and “dears.”
By the time Abby had retraced the few steps she’d taken and rejoined the little group, Jet was there, too. She found herself struck by a weird awkwardness. Like this was the morning after portion of a tawdry one-night stand or something. Which was weird– nothing could be further from the truth. She might not know exactly what the future held with her and Jet, but she wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed about the two of them. If anything, she was proud.
“So,” Mrs. Trelawney said, the tightness in her voice competing with the sugary-sweetness of her smile. “You know my wine vendor, Mr. Valentine?”
Abby couldn’t help but grin. “Wow. I haven’t heard anyone call you that since Mr. Gerber shouted it down the halls at you in middle school.”
Jet laughed, and together they imitated their long-ago Vice Principal, their voices going low and stern. “Mr. Valentine, where exactly are you supposed to be right now?” they chorused.
