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“I hope you do.” A growing part of her wished it could be with her, but she’d given up wishing on stars a long time ago. “When I quit my job to come here and take care of Gram, I was scared. There aren’t any advertising or public relations companies in Cherry Creek. I started my business, and it was slow going for a while. It’s better now, but even if it took off, I’d never work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I’ve seen what that looks like up close and personal, and it’s not pretty. If I burn out, I’m no good to anyone. The same is true for you.”
“I guess I’m not as smart as you.” He leaned back and rubbed his stomach, signaling the end of their heart-to-heart. She felt the pang of disappointment, but shook it away. “I’m stuffed. That was delicious.”
Too bad the only guy in forever who’d sparked her interest was an unapologetic workaholic who lived far from Cherry Creek.
ChapterTen
Brock glancedat the clock on his screen and shut his computer down for the night. Tonight was the much-anticipated Cherry Creek Reserve Christmas party, and he knew better than to show up late.
In between zoom meetings and conference calls, he’d helped Erin all week long. From lugging boxes of decorations from the back of her car into the clubhouse, stringing lights and hanging mistletoe, and shooing Liza away from his power tools, Brock felt as if he’d become an honorary member of the CCR social committee. The evening would be the culmination of a lot of work, a celebration of the season, and the embodiment of a Christmas miracle now that Darlene Richardson was on the mend and slated to arrive home on Christmas Eve.
In the week leading up to the party, Brock had taken Erin’s advice to heart. A little time away from the office and a huge dose of her Christmas sunshine had convinced him his company wouldn’t go careening off the rails if he loosened his grip on the throttle. In fact, the hours he’d spent with Erin had helped him come back to his job each day with a clarity he couldn’t find when he never took a break.
“Pawpaw.” Brock knocked on his grandfather’s bedroom door. “You almost ready?”
Pawpaw opened the door, gave Brock a what-the-heck frown. “Why do I have to wear this ridiculous sweater?”
“It’s an ugly sweater contest.” Brock pointed to his chest. “Look at mine. It’s embarrassing.”
“Where did you even get these things?”
“Erin helped me find them online. If I told you what I had to pay for these with expedited shipping, you’d wear it with a smile.”
Pawpaw grimaced. “It’s my introduction to most of the neighborhood and you want me to wear bells and garland?”
“Grab your glasses and look at mine.” Erin had laughed the hardest at the one Brock ordered for himself. He didn’t care that it came with hooded elf ears and that he looked like an absolute fool—not if it meant listening to her singsong laugher all night long.
Pawpaw obliged, plucking his glasses from his nightstand and snickering like a kid. Brock hadn’t seen his grandfather this relaxed and happy in a very long time. “You win. I’ll keep the garland.”
“I thought so.” Brock put on his jacket and gathered his keys, locking the door behind them for the short walk to the clubhouse. “The temperature’s dropped.”
“There’s a chance of snow overnight. I hope you’re able to get out of here tomorrow like you planned.”
“Me too. If I didn’t have that big meeting on Monday, I’d hang around a couple more days, maybe work from here until after Christmas to save the back and forth.” Brock hardly recognized himself or the words coming out of his mouth. Dreading work like he was back in school, delegating tasks to his employees, and shutting down at a decent hour every night to have dinner with Pawpaw and occasionally Erin.
“Sounds like you’ve had a change of heart about Erin.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s not ingratiating herself with people for money, like you assumed?”
“No.” Brock had wondered when his grandfather would get around to poking at him for his opinions about Erin. “She actually likes helping others.”
“She’s got a job,” Pawpaw said. “And she’s good at it if she’s impressed Sean.”
As expected, Sean was over the moon when Brock told him about Erin. Sean fired Capital Design and signed a contract with Collier Designs, LLC. “She’s very good at her job.”
“So,” Pawpaw slowed as they approached the clubhouse’s entrance. “She’s a nice person who works hard and likes to help people. I can see why she gets under your skin. Plus, she’s pretty, has a good sense of humor, and her cookies are the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“That’s because you’ve lived with Ma the last year and a half.” But Pawpaw wasn’t lying. Erin’s cookies were fantastic.
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“Fine,” Brock huffed, tossing his hands in the air. “I was wrong. Happy now?”
“Yes, and strangely enough, so are you.”
Brock tried to push past Pawpaw, but the old man grabbed his arm in a surprisingly firm grip. “I’m serious, Brock. She’s good for you. You’re good for each other.”
