Page 71 of A Very Daddy Christmas

“About what?”

She shrugs lightly. “About the townspeople and their pitchforks, the rumors. Pretty sure she still goes to church every Sunday. And she works at the country club, where those two bastards love to hang out.”

“She hasn’t said anything to me. But you know what, I’ll ask her,” I reply, nodding slowly. “I will definitely ask her. She could very well have some insight on this whole thing.”

Sherry may be young, but she could prove to be a valuable resource. The country club job gives her eyes and ears in a place where the city’s most powerful people like to hang out. The Sunday sermon puts her in the middle of a community currently itching to ruin my reputation. And the fact that she knows us—me, in particular—on a personal level, gives Sherry a unique point of view. Plus, she’s smart enough to smell the BS from a mile away.

“Oh, crap,” Eva mumbles as she checks the computer. “Another order fell through.”

“Wait, what? Who?”

“The Livingstons.”

That one hurts. They placed their order at the Christmas fair. It was a big one, too. Three cakes, four quiches, and a jumbo plate of holiday-themed cookies. They were contemplating getting the cupcakes as well, but we’d agreed to give them a couple of weeks to decide.

“They do know the deposit is non-refundable at this point in time, right?” I ask Eva.

“Yeah, but they don’t care,” she says, reading through their email. “They said they cannot keep doing business with a place that doesn’t align with their religious and societal values. What in the world is going on here?”

“It’s about me,” I sigh deeply. That delicious panini I just finished scarfing down is trying to work its way back up, but a few chugs of cream soda put a stop to it. “The town harlot.”

“Come on, Cora. You’re dating a rich and handsome man. What the hell is wrong with them? It’s the twenty-first century, for Pete’s sake.”

“It’s more than that. You’ve heard the rumors.”

“I don’t care if you’re boning an entire football team!” Eva snaps and angrily slaps the table. “You’re a single woman in her early twenties. You have all the freedom in the world, and I repeat, it’s the twenty-first century! Besides, it’s nobody’s damn business what you do behind closed doors!”

Okay. Perhaps I should tell her about my relationship with Sebastian, Riggs, and Waylan. I think she’ll be more understanding than I originally thought. Of course she will, she’s my sister. I should tell her, she deserves to know. The more these people talk, the truer it’ll become, anyway. That’s how rumors grow. Like a cancer, often getting out of control.

“Eva, I should—”

“Granted, it would be weird and insane and definitely cause financial ruin,” she says, letting her thoughts run rampant. “Because this is obviously still a bigoted, closed-minded city.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, swallowing my words altogether.

She takes a deep breath and closes the laptop. “I’m thinking chocolate crepes. What do you say?”

“Only if you’re making them.”

“I’m the only one who makes them right, so of course I’ll be making them.”

We laugh, but it’s not sincere. We’re tiptoeing around explosive gossip. Our resolve is repeatedly tested, day in and day out. And Eva seems ready to fight this battle uphill, right beside me.

I’m not sure she’s ready for the losses she might endure, however. It’s one thing to be determined to resist a deluge of slander and mean-spirited boycotting, but it’s a different bucket of crap to deal with real physical and financial fallout.

22

Cora

“You’ve been quiet all morning,” Sebastian says, one hand on the wheel while the other rests on my knee. His eyes stay on the road as he drives me to the bakery. There’s a bit more traffic than usual, but it should be expected. Christmas Eve is just around the corner, and the last-minute shoppers are out in full swing. “Is everything okay?”

“As okay as it can be under these circumstances,” I reply with a weak smile. “It’s the waiting that’s killing me.”

“With the escrow term, you mean.”

“Yeah.”

“Unfortunately, waiting is all we can do at this point. You’ve passed every surprise inspection. You’ve held your head up against the nasty rumors. We survived Rutger Resort,” he chuckles. “I can’t promise it’s over because I don’t know what else St. James and Hamilton might have planned, but I can promise you that no matter what, we’re always going to figure a way forward.”

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