Page 53 of A Tinsel Tale

I nod miserably. “I’m so confused. Vance and the other partners have dangled this carrot in front of me for so long, I thought it would never get here. Now since theDatelineepisode aired, we are suddenly Chicago’s ‘go to’ firm for defense. And I’m in popular demand. The firm wants to make sure I stay and don’t go off on my own.”

“Have you considered that?”

“Yes. Especially after Vance… you know, since the breakup. But with the good comes the bad. Not everyone I defend is innocent and recently I’ve been wondering if it’s a good fit for me anymore.” I cover my face with my hands.

“It must be a lot of pressure. But Evie, baby, you are one cog in the wheel of justice. You’re not God. Even the criminals have the right to a good defense. Right?”

I lace my fingers behind his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He is so gentle, kissing me as if I’ll break. I feel his breath against my cheek, his warm hands holding me. I remember him comforting me back in high school after I’d had a brain freeze during a debate contest. I’d been humiliated and inconsolable. I was such a perfectionist back then. I couldn’t stand to fail at anything. The only one that could talk me down had been Jamie. He knew all the right words to say. He always had and I guess he still does.

He kisses me tenderly then nibbles my ear. It tickles and I start giggling which makes me feel like a crazy person. How can I go from wailing to laughter in less than ten minutes?

“Babe, we should go down and talk to your dad. He can’t make the stairs and I know he’s worried,” he says.

“You’re right. Let me splash cold water on my face and freshen up. I’ll meet you down there.”

He buries his nose in my hair his arms tightening. “Hold up. Just one more minute, okay?” He scooches down and pulls me with him then rolls on top of me kissing me silly. He growls in my ear, “You are a gifted attorney. This is just a blip. Partnership or not, it doesn’t define you or your career. You’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you,” I say, tears welling once more.

“Not the water works again?” he teases.

I brush them away and push his chest. “Get off me.” He kisses my eyelids then stands. I slip my hand in his and he hauls me up. “I’ll be down in a sec,” I say, then head into the bathroom to freshen up.

28

EVIE

Ican’t believe it’s the night before Christmas Eve. The Barringtons invited Dad and me to their annual ugly sweater themed party. There is a prize for the ugliest. Gwen is celebrating with her family in Chicago so she couldn’t come. I kind of miss her. This will be Dad’s first big outing other than to doctor and physical therapy appointments. He has on his ugly Christmas sweater which, if it doesn’t win, I don’t know what will. Mom and I bought it one year when he was still teaching. He got a kick out of making his students laugh.

I’m pretty proud of mine. It’s a red, green and cream wool weave with a young girl in PJ’s standing next to a Christmas tree. It has every holiday symbol known to man plastered all over it. Then in bold black lettering it reads, ‘Most Likely to Peek Under the Christmas Tree.’ I could win too.

I have decidedly shelved my work and relationship conundrums until after the holidays. I’m relaxed tonight, and I’m trying not to fret. Jamie helps. Just thinking about him and my belly flutters. He’s been the absolute best and he’s good at keeping me in the present. He made me promise to quit worrying about everything and to stop trying to figure out the future. “Them’s the rules Evie.” And so far, I’ve followed them… that is, until the lights go out and I get in bed at night. Then it’s a different story. But tonight, I have a party to attend and I’m down for it.

Dad brought his crutches along just in case he needs them. He’s gotten pretty skillful. Who knew athletic ability would transfer over to crutches. I guess it makes sense. Good balance and upper body strength are in his favor and the fact that he was in great shape going into the surgery has served him well. The doctor says he’s way ahead of the healing curve.

The house looks like a first-place winner on the reality competition,The Great Christmas Light Fight.Over the top and I love it! We walk down the candy cane-lined sidewalk to the door and ring the bell.

Seconds later Junior throws the door open wearing a hideous sweater, Santa hat and huge toothy grin. His voice booms as he takes me up in a big ole bear hug. “Well, looky who’s here. My favorite almost sister. Hello Coach. Welcome, come on in.” He steps back and waves us into the formal entry. Pure pandemonium. I hear laughter, kids squealing, Christmas music blaring, there are twinkle lights framing the entries, and a life-sized plastic Santa greeting us. The Griswolds have nothing on the Barringtons. I almost get plowed over by two running boys, who barely miss knocking into the massive Christmas tree right next to Santa.

“Scuse me,” one yells over his shoulder, “Hiyah Coach.” Before disappearing into the adjoining room right off the foyer.

Junior laughs. “Sorry, that was Chance and Joseph. My two oldest hellions.”

“I can’t believe that’s Chance!” I say. “He’s so tall! Another baller in the making.”

“Evie, you can throw your coats in the first spare room to the right,” he says, pointing down the hall. “Then join the party that away. You remember your way around don’t ya? I’ll tell my baby brother his girl is here.” I feel my cheeks heat. Of course, I remember my way around. I practically lived here all through high school. Jamie and I had split our family time between my parents’ house and his.

I walk into the bedroom and throw our coats on top of the bed already piled high with outerwear. I sense him before he makes a sound.

“Hey, Chicago.” His voice sounds like liquid honey and sends shivers down my spine. He comes up behind me and buries his face in my hair, which I’ve left loose because he likes it that way. “You smell like a little bit of heaven.” He nibbles on my ear and my body heats.

“I’m surprised your parents didn’t have live reindeer flown in for the party,” I say.

He laughs. “Shh. Don’t give Mom any ideas.” I turn in his arms and stand on my tip toes to plant a kiss on his smiling lips. “Are you ready to join the chaos?”

“Can’t wait.” We pass through the foyer and a sizeable flex room where kids have a Twister game going on. The great room is the party hub and it opens into a large kitchen where it appears an entire bar and restaurant are set up on the expansive island. And… surprise! Another massive tree. I wave to Dad who is sitting comfortably on the U-shaped sectional couch in an animated conversation with Whitt, Jamie’s dad.

Sue runs up to me with a small square of paper with number thirty-five printed in red marker. She sweeps me into an affectionate hug then says, “Here’s your number sweetie. I’ll pin it to your back. The idea is we vote on the sweater we think is the ugliest. There’s a box on the table next to the tree with pens and paper. After you make your decision, write the number down and slip it into the box sometime in the next hour or so. Easy peasy,” she says enthusiastically as she pins on my number. “Can you believe my second born, Berk, decided to skip out on us this Christmas? He’s in Turks and Caicos right now. He went snorkeling today. The nerve.”

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