Page 27 of Secret Santas and Holiday Dances

Grace grabbed her jacket and shot out of her seat. She slipped her arms in her coat as she pushed out the front door.

“Where are you going?” David yelled after her.

She ignored him and raced across the street. People stopped to stare and wave at her. Others gave her curious looks and a few shot looks of disdain.

As she passed Swiss Bliss Salon, a woman came out and spoke in a stage whisper. “Attention seeker—just like her mother.”

Grace whipped her head back to see who’d said it, but the woman was already heading in the opposite direction, her coat collar pulled up around her neck.

She hurried on, her nerves ratcheting up as she passed bystanders, and her anger dwindling under their stares. Someone yelled from across the street. “Where’s my present, Santa?”

Grace picked up her pace, hurrying to get off the street and into Choco-Latte. The store was full, as was to be expected of lunchtime on any day of the week. More murmurs sounded around her as she searched for her mother. She found her a moment later. Charlotte stood at the front of the line with Liam, ordering from Presley Westbrook, her hand at his back. Liam laughed at something Charlotte said, as Presley turned to get their order. Charlotte caught her eye for just a moment, and Grace took a step in their direction. Then Charlotte went up on tiptoe and planted a kiss on Liam.

Grace came to an abrupt halt.

Time slowed.

He didn’t pull away.

Once in elementary, Grace had been forced to play dodge ball in PE. A ball had hit her square in the gut, winding her, and she’d collapsed. She’d thought that had been the most painful thing she’d ever felt physically, but this, this was ten times worse. If someone had punched her in the gut, it couldn’t have winded her more.

She blinked, her eyes slowly closing out the nightmare unfolding before her, and filling with tears. She should’ve known she would never get out of Charlotte’s shadow.

“It’s her!” a little girl yelled, bringing the world back to normal speed. “The Secret Santa!”

Grace ripped her gaze from Charlotte and Liam and looked at the girl. Choco-Latte went silent, all gazes going to her. Unwittingly, her gaze found Liam’s through the crowd. His hands were on Charlotte’s shoulders, but his attention was on Grace. His eyes widened. He let go of Charlotte and faced her.

Grace backed up and right into someone.

Liam stepped toward her. “Grace.”

“There’s my girl,” Charlotte called out, sounding happy and oblivious as always to anything but what was happening to her.

A lump grew thick in Grace’s throat as people started pushing toward her. A tear slid down her cheek. She stepped out of the way of whoever she’d backed into, pushed out the door, and ran for it.

Chapter 14

Liam stood in line at Choco-Latte with Charlotte, secretly glad she’d chosen to come here instead of one of the restaurants in town. That meant he could make their meeting faster than he’d previously thought. Not that he didn’t want to help Charlotte, but he and Ryan were working a will for a family who’d just lost their ninety-nine-year-old grandfather. The family was coming in that afternoon for the reading of the will, and he and Ryan had every reason to believe there would be major contention over the division of assets. They’d spent the morning preparing, and he’d forgotten he’d promised to help Charlotte until she’d walked in.

The line moved up, but they were still tenth in line. Good thing Presley ran this place like a well-oiled machine.

“Is it always this busy?” Charlotte asked.

Liam nodded. “Yep. Why don’t you tell me about your case while we wait? Did you email me your documents?”

She nodded. “Last night, didn’t you see it?”

He pulled out his phone and went to his email. “It’s not here.”

“Okay, well, I have my laptop in my car,” she said, brushing her shoulder against his as they moved forward another step. “As soon as we eat, I’ll grab it and send it again.”

“Let’s hit the highlights,” Liam said. “The apartment belongs to you?”

“Yes,” Charlotte said. “I got it in the divorce from my last husband.”

Liam hadn’t expected that answer but kept his poker face—a skill he’d mastered at his old law firm. “How many times have you been married?”

Charlotte chuckled. “Is that really necessary to know?”

---