Page 51 of Falling for Santa

Lauren raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “Tell me more about Scott.”

Megan flushed, her cheeks heating. “He played Santa on the island,” she explained quickly. “He was good with Ruby.”

“Good with Ruby?” Lauren repeated, her tone playful as she shot Megan a knowing look. “That’s a pretty glowing review for Santa.”

“He’s not the real Santa,” Ruby said, recalling the conversation they’d had after their early morning visit to the holiday village. “But he’s a special helper. He reports directly to the big guy. And he has a real reindeer.”

Megan busied herself with her coffee, hoping the warmth of the cup would calm her suddenly racing heart. “He’s just a friend,” she said, her voice quieter. “Someone who made things easier while we were there.”

Lauren smirked but let the subject drop as the server arrived with their food. Ruby’s eyes widened as the mini waffles were placed in front of her, a rainbow of fruit decorating the plate. Megan’s chilaquiles smelled heavenly, and Lauren’s soufflé pancakes were a work of art, dusted with powdered sugar and adorned with fresh berries.

As they ate, Lauren shifted the conversation back to Megan’s new job, asking questions about her coworkers and the cases she’d be handling. Megan answered as best as she could, but her responses lacked enthusiasm.

Lauren put down her fork and fixed Megan with a gentle but firm look. “Megan, listen to me. You’ve worked so hard to get here. It’s natural to feel a little unsettled. This is a big change. But this job is exactly what you need. Stability, security, a future for Ruby. Don’t let a little homesickness cloud your vision.”

Megan nodded slowly, her mind churning. “Maybe you’re right,” she said, though the words felt hollow. “This is a great job, and it’s what I worked so hard for.”

Lauren reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand over Megan’s. “You’re going to crush it, Meg. Just give it time. Besides, I for one am happy to have you back.”

Ruby giggled, oblivious to the weight of the conversation, as Lauren cut her waffles into bite-sized pieces. Megan watched her daughter, her chest tightening as conflicting emotions swirled inside her. She wanted to believe Lauren’s words, to trust that she was making the right choice. But no matter how many times she told herself this was what she’d worked for, she couldn’t shake the nagging sense of loss.

After brunch, Lauren hugged Megan tightly outside the restaurant. “Call me if you need anything,” she said. “And don’t overthink it. You’re doing amazing.”

“Thanks, Lauren,” Megan said, her voice softer than she intended. She held Ruby’s hand as they walked back to the car, the bright San Diego sun doing little to ease the heaviness in her heart.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Scott stared at the invoice on his tablet, the numbers blurring together as his mind wandered. The Roasted Bean hummed with quiet conversation around him, the familiar scent of coffee doing little to lift his mood. He'd been trying to get back into his routine—running his business, finishing projects, moving forward. But everything felt hollow, like going through motions without purpose.

"Well, this is a sorry sight."

He looked up to find Miss Doris standing over him, a steaming cup of tea in one hand and that knowing smile he'd learned to be wary of. Without waiting for an invitation, she settled into the chair across from him.

"Miss Doris," he said, managing a small smile. "How are you?"

"Better than you, by the looks of it." She stirred her tea carefully, her eyes never leaving his face. "I heard from Megan yesterday."

Scott's fingers tightened on his coffee cup, but he kept his voice neutral. "That's nice."

"Nice?" Miss Doris arched an eyebrow. "That's all you have to say?"

"What else is there to say?" He turned back to his tablet, though the numbers meant even less now. "She made her choice."

"And you're just going to accept that? Sit here moping over cold coffee instead of doing something about it?"

Scott sighed, setting the tablet aside. "She's got her future all figured out in California. What can I offer her?"

Miss Doris leaned forward, her voice dropping. "You didn't tell her about the job you found for her, did you?"

His eyes widened slightly. "That doesn't matter. It wouldn't have made a difference."

"Wouldn't it?" Miss Doris's tone sharpened. "A paralegal position at James Winter's new practice, with flexible hours and the chance to study for the bar? The opportunity to build her career right here on the island?" She shook her head. "That sounds exactly like what she was looking for."

"She's got everything she needs in California," Scott insisted, but the words felt hollow even to his ears.

"Are you sure about that?" Miss Doris fixed him with a steady gaze. "Or is that just what you're telling yourself to make it easier to let her go?"

Scott opened his mouth to protest, but no words came. Miss Doris stood, gathering her tea with a grace that belied her years.

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