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“Well, shit.” Dad runs his hand over his hair, which is still as thick as it was when he was my age. I hope I inherited those genes. “If I’m remembering that day correctly, I don’t think I gave you much of a chance to ask questions. I didn’t do much to answer your questions.”
“Maybe—maybe we can agree to leave all of that in the past.” My lips curve up thinking about Holly’s new mantra. “We don’t even need to worry about the future. Let’s just take every day as it comes. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other again. It’ll… it’ll give me a chance to get to know Joyce and the two of you together.”
“I’d like that. You know.” He pauses to clear his throat. “You know, me and Joyce. I love her. It doesn’t mean I love your mom any less.”
I nod because a lump has lodged in my throat.
“Does this mean you’re planning on moving back to take your spot at the helm of the company?” Dad asks.
“About that… Another thing we need to discuss.”
“Along with your relationship with Holly.”
“The two go hand-in-hand from where I’m sitting.” I give a light laugh that’s more of a sigh of relief. “But do you mind if we work while we talk?”
Dad’s brows furrow. “Work?”
I nod, an idea forming in my head that’s too good to ignore. “How are you at making paper snowflakes?”
NINE
HOLLY
Tugging my peacoat more tightly around me, I mentally curse myself for picking vanity over comfort as I near the office building.
It’s freaking freezing tonight. While my big puffy coat may not have looked as classy with my buffalo print dress, black tights, and spiky red heels, my teeth would definitely be chattering a lot less.
I pull up short when I near the front door to find none other than a certain blonde-haired woman with a bright smile ringing her bell with her bucket.
“You’re here!” I exclaim with a mixture of shock, concern, and a small, selfish dash of delight. “You must be freezing.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, Holly dear.” Somehow her smile brightens even more. “I have lots of layers to keep me warm.”
“Are you still raising money for the shelter?”
“Of course. Every little bit helps. Now, on to more important things.” She gives me a once-over. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thanks, I…” My cheeks flush. “I wanted to look good for the Christmas Eve party.”
“And may I say mission accomplished. Now, go on.” She gives one of her gloved fingers a twirl. “Give yourself a little spin so I can see the full effect.”
Shaking my head, but grinning to myself, I oblige, putting my arms in the air like a ballerina as I balance on my heels.
“It’s just as I suspected,” she says when I come to a stop. “You are positively stunning.” Her brow knits together. “Is something wrong?”
At this point, I don’t even have to ask how she knows. The woman is either psychic or deeply intuitive.
I take a deep breath, wincing only slightly as the frigid air fills my lungs. “I need a little courage.”
“I see. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
The words spill out of me. I tell her—in PG terms—what happened yesterday, last night, and this morning with Jonas. I tell her about my concerns and fears for my job and heart. I tell her how much I miss my mom and sisters and the holidays we used to share.
Through it all, she listens intently. Nodding her head in encouragement. Crooning in sympathy when my words call for it.
Showing me, by example, what it means to truly and selflessly be there for another person. Even someone who is a virtual stranger.
“So, with all of that, I wanted to look good for the party. Not because I expect it to be my coronation. Ike made it pretty clear who will be the new CEO of Noble Outerwear. And… I can’t fault his decision.”
