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“Hunter, do you want to meet Santa?” Shane asked.
Hunter looked dubious. “Maybe.”
“Well, I’ll take you over there, and if you decide you don’t want to, just tell me to giddy-up, okay?”
His son laughed. “Okay, Daddy.”
“I’m going to buy some of that fudge,” Faith declared.
To her surprise, Dylan offered to come along since his friend had left. The two of them made their way to the fudge stall, where she bought a piece of cookies-and-cream fudge for herself and one of Russian fudge for him.
“Thanks,” he said as they ate. They started walking back toward Shane and Hunter, who’d lined up in the queue to meet Santa, but Dylan dawdled, so Faith slowed her pace. “I’m, um, sorry for being weird about the whole you-and-Dad thing.”
Her heart stuttered, and she glanced over, but he was focused on his fudge with single-minded determination. “That’s okay.” She thought quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I mean, I’d rather there be no weirdness, but I understand where you’re coming from.”
“So, we’re all right?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She smiled. “We’re okay.”
At least, they were until she looked up and saw Diana standing beside Shane. Eyes narrowing, Faith picked up her speed. She heard Dylan mutter, “Uh-oh.” Diana wasn’t alone. Her companion, a handsome guy in his forties, hung back while she spoke to Shane. All of a sudden, she spun around, her expression punched.
“Oh, hello, Fiona. I was just telling Shane that Timothy and I have been to visit Anderson Gray.” She waited expectantly, as though they should be impressed by her hobnobbing with a former Hollywood celebrity.
Shane chuckled. “Did you even make it as far as the door to Gray’s mansion?”
Diana’s brows drew together, and if Faith wasn’t mistaken, her cheeks flushed beneath a layer of makeup. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t take it personally,” Shane continued. “He doesn’t talk to anyone if he can help it.”
“I’ll have you know that Anderson and I are old friends. We had a good catch-up.” Behind her, the man Faith assumed to be Timothy snorted, and Diana cut him a furious glare. They all shifted uncomfortably. She had the feeling everyone present knew Diana was stretching the truth, but no one had any idea what to say about it.
But then Dylan did.
“Mr. Gray is a grumpy old man,” he said.
Faith’s jaw dropped and she barked a laugh of surprise. Diana’s eyes snapped from Dylan to Faith and back, as though uncertain where to settle.
“I hate to correct you, dear,” Diana said, “but Anderson is actually a handsome young man.”
Okay, that cinched it. Diana had not spent any time with Anderson Gray recently. While the guy had been a heartthrob in his day, he’d become a mess. An agoraphobic, unshaven, unfriendly man with the mother of all chips on his shoulder.
Dylan shrugged. “Whatever. He doesn’t let us play on his beach.”
“It’s not his beach,” Faith reminded him. “He just acts as though it is.”
Diana’s smile grew strained. “I’d best be off. People to see, things to do. But Dylan, darling, do call me so we can plan your birthday next weekend.”
With that, she gave a regal wave and left. Timothy trailed behind her like an obedient puppy.
After Hunter had perchedon Santa’s knee, looking equal parts excited and terrified, and emerged unscathed, Shane guided his family around the stalls in the center of the square. Dylan dropped back to talk to another of his friends, and Shane kept an eye on him to make sure he didn’t leave the area. Meanwhile, he, Faith and Hunter paused at a funky jewelry stand, which he had no interest in, but he noticed that Faith seemed quite taken by some of the pieces. In particular, she focused on a chunky necklace with shells fashioned into a series of blue flowers.
She oohed and aahed over it, bringing a flush of joy to the jeweler’s face when she asked who’d made it because the craftsmanship was exquisite. He could see she wanted it but could also sense her reluctance to buy it. Faith may have a vast collection of outfits, but he had a feeling she collected most of them through sales or by browsing thrift stores. She hadn’t become a successful business owner in her twenties by being careless with money.
“We’ll take it,” he told the woman, fishing his card out of his wallet to pay.
She beamed. “Excellent.”
“Oh, no,” Faith protested, and the woman paused before scanning the card. “You can’t buy it for me.”
