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I rush to her. “Y-yeah. How did you know?”
She smiles, but her eyes are pooling with tears. “Their HR rep called me yesterday since you listed me as an employer.”
I nod. “They’re based in Highlands Ranch, but I could work remotely from home three days a week, so that’s nice. And I told them I couldn’t officially start until the Christmas rush here is over.”
Camilla nods once. “That was always the plan, right? You help me get this off the ground, you get your marketing degree, and then you go get your swanky brand management job.” She grabs the ends of her apron strings and pulls tight. “I’ve been encouraging you to do this, but now that it might actually happen, I …”
My throat is thick. “It might not even happen, Camilla. I’m not sure I want it to. I’ll go to the interview, but chances are, it won’t pan out.”
“It’s going to pan out. If not with Wolfe, then with somewhere else. You set aside your own life three years ago because I was drowning after Grandpa died.” She pulls at the hair at the crown of her head. “Drowning. Remember that? And you helped me. You believed in me.” Tears spring up in Camilla’s eyes. “But you doing my marketing and running the register for the rest of your life? That’s not what you want. You want corporate. You need a job where you can wear all the blazers you want to.”
I laugh as I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “Now you’re talking. And listen, you can’t get rid of me completely. As long as I’m in the area, I’ll make the cheesecakes every Christmas season, okay?”
“Oh, man. If you can’t, we’ll discontinue them because I’m not going to touch them with a ten-foot pole.” She goes on her tiptoes to wrap me in a hug. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I haven’t been offered the job. There’s no reason to miss me yet.”
“Aria, they’re going to hire you. And I’ll have one, maybe two more good ugly-cries and then I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sad,” I say.
“I’m sad, too. But also happy that you’re spreading your wings. If you’d stayed here forever, I would have never forgiven myself for stifling you.”
“It’s not such a bad gig, even though you make me do that awful dance every morning.”
“Hey! I’m counting on you teaching your new coworkers at the PR place that dance.” Camilla clicks her tongue. “It just occurred to me that you’re going to have coworkers who aren’t me. You better not love them more.”
“Of course I won’t.”
She drapes her arm around my waist and leans her head on my arm. “You ready for the festival opening? Is Theo ready?”
“Theo?” I shake my head. “I think Theo has a lot on his mind right now.” I swallow down the apprehension—the almost heady, needy apprehension—I feel as I think of him. “As for me? Yes and no. Ready to wear my fancy dresses, meet and greet people, and feel the excitement in the air. Not ready for the corset. Or the possibility that it won’t succeed.”
“It’s going to be okay,” she reassures me.
It might be. All of this might be. But if Theo’s not in my life anymore, for any reason, it can’t.
Chapter 27
Theo
The scent of cinnamon, cloves, and cranberries punctuates the air at the Barrie Mansion. The place has been totally Christmas-ified. There are dark green fabrics draped from the ceiling, and fresh evergreen garlands are tied to every inch of the banister of the grand staircase. Classical music is piped throughout the space and topiaries with gold and silver ornaments line the grand hall.
It used to be that the only good thing about Christmas in my adulthood was getting caught under the mistletoe and having to pay up. But I’ll admit, begrudgingly, that somehow the festival knows how to make the season almost enjoyable.
“Hey,” Aria whispers, her voice at a higher than natural pitch.
At first, I’m relieved she’s not in that dark red velvet gown she wore in our promotional photo shoot. I don’t think I could handle standing next to her and not reaching out to touch her waist or her glowing skin.
But it’s worse than the red dress. She’s wearing a white Victorian gown. The fabric has little red roses with green stems all over it. Perfect for a Christmas festival. Her hair is up in a twist. Her earrings are pearls that dangle and when she smiles, and when she tilts her head, they bob back and forth.
Beautiful.
I consider texting Jesse to make him come be my wingman, to hold me back and keep me in check so I don’t do something crazy like stare at her, dumbfounded, all day.
Except, Liz and Marjorie have confiscated my phone because even the appearance of it in my pocket will “break the Victorian spell,” they said.
Also, why do they and the rest of the committee get to wear those awful blazers? It’s only Aria and me in period clothing. Well, and the vendors in the booths are decked out like they’re extras inA Christmas Carol, too.
