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How could he have so easily forgotten who he was, who he’d always been? He’d been blinded by the image of being with someone good and kind, someone who could guide him out of the walled fortress where he lived. He’d been confused by her contrived benevolence. He’d been suckered by the whole festive promise of the season, allowing him to forget what he knew for a fact—Christmas was a sour, grim, and a cruel reminder that love didn’t exist for Brennan Henry.
He cut through the crowd, ignoring the shouts of “Merry Christmas” and “Happy New Year.” Emotion clogged his throat, and he was afraid he might actually break down and cry like a damn baby in front of everyone who mattered to him—his grandfather and the company.
Pressing the elevator button, he spotted a small tinsel tree blinking beside the entrance.
Like a hurt and angry child, he walked over and kicked it. As it hit the floor, he felt a little better. He walked toward the opening elevator doors.
As the doors slid shut, he glanced once again at the revelers. No one even noticed he left…or that he’d kicked over a Christmas tree.
“Bah, freaking, humbug.”
* * *
MALCOLMPERUSEDTHEcrowd for Brennan but didn’t see him. It felt marvelous to have all his employees, along with the board of directors, in attendance. He’d asked the board to the party after they had all voted to approve Brennan as the new CEO of MBH Industries mere days ago. Brennan wasn’t aware of the secret meeting called to select the next executive in charge, and Malcolm had been waiting until this event to announce the decision.
It was a Christmas gift for his grandson.
Maybe not as important as the gift of love, but a nice one even so.
Malcolm had submitted his letter of resignation a week ago and would not be returning to MBH Industries after he and Judy returned from Charleston and Savannah on their honeymoon in a few weeks. It was long past time he started enjoying his last few years on earth, and he wouldn’t spend any more time worrying about profits, the market, and whether or not they should purchase another piece of land for a new store. Time to sleep late, make love to his pretty new wife while he still could, and walk Izzy every afternoon. Time to really live.
But he couldn’t make the announcement if he couldn’t find his grandson.
He spotted Mary Paige across the room, standing near one of the vignettes, and moved toward her.
“Evening, my dear,” he said, pulling her into a hug before she could protest. “Where has my grandson gotten off to?”
“Good evening, Mr. Henry,” she said, her voice oddly choked. Her pretty brown eyes were filled with tears and her smile was tremulous.
“Are you well?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
He narrowed his eyes. “Where’s Brennan?”
“I don’t know. He left, I think.” She swallowed hard, as if she could swallow the emotion away.
“What’s happened?”
She seemed reluctant to say anything so Malcolm waited her out. Finally, she spoke. “A misunderstanding, but it doesn’t matter because nothing was real. It was just a bubble…it was a…mistake.”
What had his grandson done? Everything had seemed so good for Brennan over the past few weeks, and Malcolm had hoped it might lead to something more lasting, something close to what he’d found with Judy. He wanted his grandson to find love before it was too late.
Before he was old, gray and past his prime.
Mary Paige’s gaze flickered over the crowd, stopping for a moment.
Malcolm turned his head to see what gave her pause and spotted Asher dancing with a clerk from accounting.
“Did Asher have something to do with this?” he asked, a warning flag shimmying up the pole of realization.
Her gaze jerked to his, and she wiped a single tear from the corner of her eye. “Why would you think that?”
“Because in my experience, he always has something to do with things going south for Brennan.”
She sighed. “It isn’t Asher’s fault. It’s an issue with the nature of who Brennan and I are. Trust me, this is all for the best.”
“I don’t believe that.”
