by Olivia Miles
“But—”
Kate was already on her feet. She held up a hand. “I thought you and I were in a better place, Charlotte. But now I know I was wrong.”
Charlotte sat in the empty kitchen long after her sister had left the room, staring out onto the snow-covered backyard, listening to Kate’s little dog squeak his toy and scamper across the floorboards. She could have said a hundred things to try to defend her actions, but none of it mattered.
She’d messed up. Again.
* * *
Greg closed the door behind the deliverymen and stared at the boxes at his feet—dinnerware and glasses carefully packaged and sent over ahead of time by the catering company.
Greg wandered through the rooms, noting their transformation. The entranceway was stunning, heavily decorated with garland and lights and wreaths. A second tree had been set up in the arch of the stairs; high tables covered in crimson cloths dotted the space. Half the furniture in the living room had been cleared out, and the largest room in the house now seemed more spacious than ever. A buffet table stretched along the front wall, and the floor was cleared for mingling.
It would be a wonderful party, but did any of that matter without Charlotte here?
He knew he could call Rebecca. Get back together with her, as she so wanted. It would certainly clear up the predicament with his mother’s need for a family image.
He sank down on the sofa facing the tree, remembering the night Charlotte had knocked it down. He smiled; then, feeling inexplicably nostalgic, he let his gaze drop to the albums that were still out on the coffee table. He pulled a different one onto his lap this time and opened it to the first page.
But what he saw wasn’t a photo. It was a card. A Frost card. One he had forgotten about.
He picked it up carefully, turning it over in his hands as the memory came back to him.
He must have been seven, maybe eight years old, and it was the last week of school before summer break. The teacher had them make Father’s Day cards, and when he refused to participate in the project, the teacher sent a letter home. He remembered being scared to hand the letter to his mother, wondering what she would say, refusing to make a card of all things, when he was a Frost! He was a greeting cards heir, as Rita liked to proclaim. Her frown deepened as she read the note and then set it on the counter with a heavy sigh. She didn’t say a word about it, and that night she took him out for pizza and ice cream, and she didn’t even care when he spilled the chocolate sauce down the front of his shirt. The next morning before she left for work, she handed him a five-by-seven envelope, embossed with the Frost logo, and told him to give it to his teacher. “She wants you to make a card?” Rita quipped. “Show her how we Frosts make cards.”
Greg smiled now as he remembered how he felt that day, the confidence he felt handing in the card, among the construction paper junk the other kids had created. He felt like he had an ally. Like he and his mother were in cahoots. A two-person team that didn’t need anyone else. Not even a father. But above all else, he felt loved.
He took the card from the envelope now, surprised at what he saw. It wasn’t a Father’s Day card at all. He’d been too young then to notice that. Maybe too distracted to care.
It was a card without words, but the picture said everything. An old man, his hair graying, his back hunched, and a young boy, looking up at him, holding his hand.
His grandfather.
Right. Greg stared at the card for several more minutes before tucking it back into the envelope and into the album.
He had a matter of days to get the Burke’s proposal tightened up and win that holiday spot. And so help him, he would do it. Not just for himself. But for his mother. And for her father. And for the company they all represented.
* * *
The doorbell rang at three o’clock, when Greg was finishing up some paperwork. He’d decided to work from home that day. It was the best way to avoid distraction. At the office, he’d be called on for last-minute advice or thoughts on a project, but in the comfort of his home office—make that his grandfather’s former home office—he could focus on the holiday party and how he intended to win the Burke account.
He waited for Marlene to answer it, but then a thought occurred to him. Charlotte.
Quickly, he pushed back his chair and hurried into the hall, but the woman Marlene had opened the door to was not Charlotte at all. It was her sister.
“We met at the tree lighting,” he said uneasily.
Her smile was strictly professional as she held out a hand. “Kate Daniels.”
He shook it, all at once wishing it was Charlotte’s instead. Kate’s eyes were blue, not green, and her smile wasn’t quite as mischievous. But there was something about her, something familiar. Something he’d come to know.
“I’m taking over the account,” she explained, before he could ask. She eyed him watchfully. “My sister told me about your arrangement.”
“Did she tell you anything else?” Greg asked, detecting the hope in his tone.
Kate’s expression remained neutral. “My sister made a mistake in agreeing to this…ruse.”
“Don’t blame her,” Greg said. “I suggested it.”
“And she took it to another level,” Kate said, no doubt referring to Charlotte staying with him for the last week and a half. “As I’m sure you can understand, my company is very important to me.”
“I understand that. And so does Charlotte.” Sensing the doubt in her eyes, Greg said, “She did this for you.”
Kate frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“The arrangement…It was my idea and she went along with it. But she didn’t do it for herself. She did it because she wanted my business, and I guess I made it seem like there was no other way. And she wanted to make you proud of her.” He motioned to the living room. “She’s done an amazing job in a very short time.”
“My sister doesn’t always think things through,” Kate replied, shaking her head.
“I’m not sure she made this choice with her head at all,” Greg agreed. He gave her a pointed look. “I think she made it with her heart.”
Kate’s expression softened, and she nodded before turning her attention to the living room. “It really does look beautiful.”
“She’s not coming back, is she?” His stomach knotted every time he thought of the hurt in her eyes. He could have stopped her, could have called out or reached out and grabbed her, tried to explain, but instead, he had just let her go.
“I thought it best that I take over. As for your arrangement—”
“I don’t care about the arrangement anymore,” Greg replied, and Kate’s eyes opened in surprise. “I just want Charlotte to be happy.”
Kate gave a sad smile. “That makes two of us, then.”
Chapter Thirty
Charlotte had managed to avoid Kate after she returned from her client meetings. She’d also managed not to think about the Frost party too much, because doing that only made her think of Greg. Really, she should be happy that Kate had insisted on taking over. It took the pressure off ever seeing him again.
And that should be a good thing. But for some reason, it didn’t exactly feel that way.
Kate had met Alec after her meetings yesterday afternoon, and then the two of them had gone to the Harbor Inn to finalize their wedding plans, before no doubt going into town for a nice, romantic evening. Charlotte had stayed back at the house, indulged in an entire frozen pizza and the remains of some peppermint ice cream she’d found tucked in the back of the freezer, and read Goodnight Moon to Audrey exactly twenty-seven times. If she never saw that mouse again…
Now, though, there would be no avoiding her sister. The sun was up. She could hear Audrey stirring in her crib, and she could smell the coffee brewing downstairs. No doubt Kate had told Alec all about her latest string of poor choices. No doubt she was only still employed because Kate was concerned about Audrey’s welfare.
She should be grateful she still had a jo
b. But having a job and deserving a job were two very different things.
She picked Audrey up from her crib and changed her diaper. Audrey was chewing her fingers with one hand, reaching up to grab Charlotte’s hair with the other. She picked the baby up, set her on her hip, and pressed her cheek next to that sweet, smooth skin. No better feeling in the world, she thought. Right now, in this short, fleeting moment, all was right in the world.
She heard the front door slam.
Oh, no. Alec had left for the day. William always picked him up out front, and they carpooled into town, where they ran a financial advisory firm. That meant Kate and Charlotte and Audrey were alone. And Audrey couldn’t take the pressure off by making small talk. Looking cute only did the job for so long.
Dread filled her as she crept into the hallway and began her descent down the stairs. Time to face the music.
In many ways, it would be easier to just be fired. She should probably start looking for a job. Maybe she’d see about staying with Bree, too. Surely at least one room in that large house could be baby-proofed.
“Good morning,” she managed to force out as she turned into the white, spotless kitchen.
Kate was already dressed for the day and pouring food into Henry’s bowl, who danced around her feet, yapping excitedly.
Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know who’s more excited for breakfast. Henry or Audrey.”
Kate smoothed her skirt as she straightened, and Charlotte looked away. She didn’t want to face her sister. She didn’t want to talk about anything again. Jake. Greg. All this was her problem.
Except for the fact that the Frost account was also Kate’s problem now.
“I met with Greg yesterday,” Kate offered, and Charlotte’s hand stilled as she unscrewed the lid of the baby bottle. “The house looks great. You did a really good job, Charlotte.”
A compliment? Charlotte licked her lip, forcing back a smile. No need to get ahead of herself here.
“I wanted to do a good job.” Oh, crap. The back of her eyes stung and she fought to hold back the tears.
“I know,” Kate said gently.
“I never meant to hurt you, Kate. I just…wanted to help.” Now a single tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away quickly, but it was no use.
“Your heart was in the right place. I see that now. I just wish you could have known you could tell me. I’m sorry you didn’t think you could.”
Charlotte nodded, wanted to choose her words carefully. “I wanted you to be…proud of me,” she finally managed.
Kate leaned forward in surprise. “Proud of you? Charlotte, I am in awe of you!”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “What?”
“My goodness, Charlotte, look at you. Look at how far you’ve come. You’re a single mother, doing it all on your own, and now you’ve managed to land the biggest account this start-up has ever seen, however unconventional your tactics.” Kate grinned. “When I see you with Audrey, it’s almost hard to believe you’re my little sister. I have a lot to learn from you, Charlotte.”
“From me?” After everything she had done…
“You know I never really told you this before,” Kate confided, “but I always sort of admired you.”
Oh, now this was too much. “How?” Charlotte asked, gobsmacked.
“I was always so worried all my life. About grades, and activities, and then boys. I always struggled with everything being just right. I never felt like I was having much fun. But you…” She shook her head, smiling. “You just saw what you wanted, and you went for it. You were so carefree, and you rolled with life in a way I never could. I always wished I could be a little more like you.”
Charlotte swallowed back the tears that threatened to form. First Greg and now Kate, both telling her that their opinions of her were vastly different than the one she had of herself. All this time, she’d been trying to prove to everyone around her that she was all right, that she could handle her life and live with her decisions. But maybe the person she was trying to convince the most was herself.
Her mind trailed to Greg, of the insistence in his eyes when he told her he knew her for who she really was, not the person he expected her to be. That he liked that person and wanted to be with that person. That he wanted her.
She pursed her lips to push back the sting. But not Audrey. He’d carefully left her out of things all along. And they were a package deal.
“I…feel really bad for everything that happened, Kate. I need you to know that—”
Kate set two hands on Charlotte’s shoulders, stopping her midsentence. There was a softness in her sister’s eyes that made Charlotte’s prickle. “I forgave you a long time ago, Char. Now you need to forgive yourself. And put on an apron, while you’re at it. You have some cookies to bake if we’re going to make it to the swap today. Remember our gingerbread sisters?”
Gingerbread sisters! She’d pushed that memory aside somehow. “Just like old times.” She smiled as Kate plucked two cookie cutters from the drawer.
* * *
Bree eyed the bakery section of Harbor Street Foods with a critical eye, looking not for the most polished, pristine, perfect-looking cookies, but instead, the messiest, most unsymmetrical lot she could find. Yes, she was cheating. She had an empty tin in the car waiting to be filled with professionally made cookies. The way she saw it, it was better than showing up empty-handed, and who could really complain about a decent-tasting cookie? It wasn’t like anyone had raved about her snickerdoodles last year. She’d seen more than one woman sniff them before setting them back on the tray.
No, this year, she was giving herself a much-needed break. She didn’t have time to bake, and she didn’t currently have a kitchen to bake in. Her eyes came to rest on some lumpy-looking oatmeal cookies. Not exactly festive, but they would do. Yes, they would do just fine.
She turned to go, hoping to check out and get to her car without bumping into one of the women who might rat her out, when she saw Simon push through the front glass door. She stood, perfectly still, knowing she could ditch the cookies and run, maybe hide out in the women’s toiletries section for an unreasonably safe amount of time. Or she could carry on with her life.
She decided on the latter.
She walked to the cash registers, knowing he would see her as she did. Their eyes met for a brief, heart-flickering second before she put it back in check, and his eyes darted to the left before he flashed her his signature grin. This time, she wasn’t buying it.
“Bree! Hey!”
“Hello, Simon,” she said wearily as she stopped behind an elderly woman buying a single tube of toothpaste, bottle of whiskey, and a bunch of bananas. She felt only a moment of panic when she saw her future flash before her eyes, but she pushed that firmly back into place. She was only thirty-two. And she’d wasted enough time on the man who had come to stand beside her.
“I’ve been meaning to call. I mean, I meant to call. About the tree lighting. I was really sick and—”
“The tree lighting?” Bree tipped her head. “Not sure what you mean.”
“You know…When I saw you at the club…”
Bree pretended to ponder this for a moment. “Oh. That. I didn’t think much of it. So, sick, huh? Shame.” She smiled, but her gaze she knew had turned withering as she stared through those wire-rimmed glasses and straight into his lying eyes. Maybe he’d been there. Alone, with friends, or with another girl. It didn’t matter.
Yes, she was thirty-two. And single. But she had a house. And a business. And a life full of friends and family and people who actually cared about her enough to be straight with her. And Simon didn’t fit into any of that. And looking back, he never had.
“Well, I should probably get going,” she said as she inched her way along in the line.
His eyes turned quizzical and then perhaps knowing. She wasn’t in the mood to try to figure it out. “Have a merry Christmas, Bree.”
Oh, she’d have a merry Christma
s all right. The best one yet, if she had anything to do with it.
* * *
The tea shop was already filled by the time Charlotte and Kate pushed through the door, only ten minutes after the designated start time. Fiona had her favorite Christmas carols playing from the speakers overhead, and she’d set up a Christmas tree near the bay window, filled with all her favorite ornaments from Ireland.
Charlotte stopped to admire the tree while Kate took their cookies to the table. There were beautiful glass ornaments, many hand-painted. Collected over time. Treasures, really.
She smiled sadly as she let one gently fall back against the branches. She didn’t need to think about Greg now. Today she was going to focus on how many of her Christmas dreams had come true, even if that happy family life was still out of reach.
Her sister was waiting for her at the back of the room, a teacup already in her hand. “Better grab a box and start filling it before the good stuff is gone,” she said with a wink. “I noticed Mrs. Moore already took three of the mini peppermint éclairs.”
“Shameless,” Charlotte said, and began laughing.
It felt good to joke with her sister again. Easy and right. She’d lived in knots for far too long.
“I suppose I have no reason not to indulge,” Charlotte sighed. She picked up an empty bakery box from the table and began adding some homemade fudge.
“Just be sure you can still squeeze into your maid of honor dress,” Kate remarked.
“My…” Before she could even reply, she was matching Kate’s wide grin. “Oh, Kate. Me? Really?”
Kate winked. “Did you ever think I wasn’t going to choose you?”
“Well, the wedding is next month, and you hadn’t asked…”
“Believe it or not, even wedding planners fall behind. It seems like I’m a lot better at planning everyone else’s special day and not my own.” She gave Charlotte a look of understanding. “I just want this one day to be…perfect.”
“It will,” Charlotte promised.
“You know what? I really think so, too.”
