Page 51 of A Very Addicted Christmas

“On this shelf…” I crouch down to scan more of the hardback spines. “…probably this one.” I pull outMoby-Dickby Herman Melville.

“Why?” Charlie wonders, more interested. He takes the book from me, but I can tell he’s already read the pages. He barely thumbs through them. Just waits to see why I’ve enjoyed the novel.

I’m about to respond when a head pops into the parlor.

Donnelly nods to me. “Boss just called a meeting. Seems urgent.”

To my client, I say quickly, “I’ll see you later. Take care of yourself, Charlie.”

He nods and tucks the book underneath his arm.

I’m not a buddy-guard. I shouldn’t be having book clubs with my client, but I’m actually interested to hear whathethinks ofMoby-Dickand we have all the time to kill here.

Walking to the kitchen with Donnelly for the emergency security meeting, he quips, “Daddy Oscar, checking on his children.”

I hate being calleddaddy.Donnelly laughs at my soured face, and I retort, “I might be the oldest here, but that just means I’m the wisest motherfucker.”

“Okay, Grandpop.”

We both laugh until we take our seats around the circular breakfast table, the kitchen drafty and cold. Seventeen people have been living in this house. Eight are bodyguards. Two are my family. One is my client.

Akara is MIA right now. At the table, I count Donnelly, my handsome ass, Thatcher, Redford, Quinn, O’Malley, and Tony.We’re waiting for the SFO lead. Severity hangs over everyone, and I glance back in the direction to where I left Charlie.

He can’t handle being in one place for this long.

Before the meeting begins, we all talk about breakfast and rations and end up splitting a single bowl of oatmeal.

Eight ways.

I try to savor every morsel of mushyshitness.

When Akara enters the kitchen, everyone’s done eating but him. He takes the final seat, sets the sat-phone on the table, and unzips a wet jacket. “Here’s the deal, guys. The village’s inn is a ten-hour hike on foot, and the owner said she has enough provisions to house six people if we can make it there.”

Six people are getting the hell out of here.

As the meeting goes on, I pay attention to logistics, and I have a say in who ends up on the hike.

Charlie.

Charlie has to leave.

He needs out today. Not tomorrow, not weeks from now.Today.But I’ll take whatever timeline Akara is offering. If he wants me to join Charlie on the trek, then Joana has to come with us. I’m not leaving my sister. She’s attached to me this trip.

So I’m not shocked when he chooses Farrow and Thatcher to accompany Charlie, Luna, Beckett, and Sulli.

I trust Farrow and Thatcher will take care of my client, even if Charlie is a royalhandful.

I can’t leave Jo. She just said that she doesn’t regret coming on the trip because she’s with me and Quinn. I can’t abandon her for Charlie.

Once the meeting ends, we’re all more tensed. We just itemized and prioritized clients and friends based on who’s nearing a break down.

I head into the living room with a trail of bodyguards, and a tall, sculpted Jack Highland catches my eye and instantly fills my entire gaze. Like a cliché moth to a flame.

He’s seated on the fireplace hearth. Basking in the warmth. But he notices the incoming line of bodies.

I watch this twenty-seven-year-old ex-collegiate swimmer, current exec producer, stand off the hearth. He’s offering the warmth to us.

I start to walk towards the foyer and pass Jack, and there’s zero percent chance I’m not saying something. “Where are you going, Long Beach?”

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