Page 41 of Meet Me on Christmas Eve

I raised my eyebrows slightly, unprepared for that question. I looked down, suddenly embarrassed about this for the first time. I don’t even know why—I’d always considered the name change—the identity change—one of the best decisions I’d ever made. “Uh, it’s complicated—”

“You’re not married.”

My eyes flew from the floor to his face, seeing some uncertainty there. “Of course not. No. Never married.” Shit, why did I volunteer that extra tidbit? Make it really obvious I’d never gotten serious with anyone after him. I sighed. “I just needed a new start.”

“Why?”

“The old me was going nowhere in life, if you hadn’t noticed.” I laughed bitterly. “But you were too privileged back then to notice.”

“Was I? You assume a lot about me.” A strange glint appeared in his eyes before he looked away.

I didn’t know what to say to this. “Well, anyway.” How to end this awkward conversation that occurred after that awkward—oh my god, we kissed. Shouldn’t we be talking aboutthat? Or maybe not. Probably best to sweep it under the rug, just like the past was. My heart was still fluttering as I made a show of looking at my watch. “Actually, some of my helpers will arrive soon, and I have some business to attend to in my office. Do you mind finishing up the tree placement without me?”

He looked at me with eyes that saw far, far too much. Goddammit, since when did I become so transparent? After an awkward pause, he nodded slowly. “Sure thing, boss.”

I gave him a polite smile, which felt ridiculous under the circumstances. I might as well have curtsied. He merely tipped his chin and bent to pick up the tree. As I turned to escape though, he called out, “Might want to fix your lipstick, princess.”

I pivoted with a scowl, but he’d already kneeled down to set up the troublesome tree. Huffing just loud enough for him to hear, I spun around and nearly ran out of the ballroom and back to my suite.

Chapter 12

Wiping my brow, I returned the whiskey to its place of honor on the shelf. I tried to ignore the ache in my heels and lower back. I went to the staff gym often enough and considered myself reasonably in shape, but I wasn’t used to working on my feet for hours. It had been too long. I suppose it didn’t help that I’d spent the afternoon rage-skating on the frozen lake in the woods behind the resort, followed by an hour of online Christmas shopping hunched over on the floor with my laptop.

“Mari!” called an out-of-breath Hazel as she approached. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Have you …” She looked around, her brow furrowed. “Tell me you haven’t been serving drinks all night.”

I shook my head slightly as I started pouring her favorite drink. “Where’s your date?”

She pulled out a stool and put her elbows on the counter I’d just cleaned. She waved a hand behind her in a vague motion. “Somewhere.” When I raised my eyebrows, she sighed. “I gave up. He was flirting with some girl named Cynthia. Seemed sweet, but really young. Not going to waste my time, you know?”

I looked behind Hazel, trying to find the guy I’d seen her with earlier. When I spotted him, he was indeed talking to Cynthia. Or dancing, actually.

My lips started curving into a smile. Wait, why am I happy about this? It doesn’t matter if Cynthia is flirting with someone. Why would I care?

Because maybe then she’s not flirting with Terry.

Or maybe she’s just a flirt. It doesn’t mean anything one way or another. Therecouldstill be something between her and Terryeven ifshe flirts with other guys.

I frowned deeply.Ugh, shut up, insecure Mari.It matters not at all. Terry isn’t anything to me anymore. He and Cynthia can go have babies for all I care. But I don’t. Care, that is.

But just the thought of him having babies with her—or anyone … I felt my breath quicken, and I wiped the counter down again briskly.

When I looked up at Hazel, she was giving me a strange look but then took a sip of her drink. “So.” She paused then, as though waiting for me to continue.

I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to say, but I cleared my throat and gave it my best shot. “Sorry to hear your date was a disappointment, Haz—”

“Pshh.” She waved her hands, cutting me off. “I don’t care about him. I want to know why you’ve been tending bar all night.”

I opened my mouth to reply but then closed it. I pretended to clean a shot glass nearby that was already clean. “The one we hired wasn’t working out. I had to send her home. And … well, I didn’t want to make my own staff work during the party.”

She raised an eyebrow. She didn’t believe me, and with good reason, I suppose. “Right.” She finished off her drink with a long swig. “Now,” she said, leaning forward, “tell me the real reason.”

I forced myself to maintain eye contact. “I don’t mind, you know. I used to tend bar many years ago, and I was pretty good at it. One of my many odd jobs from the past.” She kept looking at me with a challenge in her eyes. “And I did spend over an hour mingling at the beginning of the night, so don’t worry—I wasn’t neglecting my host duties.”

She shook her head, crinkling her eyes. “I wasn’tworriedabout—Mari, come on.” She leaned forward, making intense eye contact. “You know what I’m asking.”

What was she talking about? Whatever it was, I felt the urge to laugh nervously, but I stifled it.

“Uh, I don’t think I do.” I heard my voice shake a little as I looked desperately to the side to see if anyone else was approaching the bar. There was one woman, but the sole bartender at the other end was greeting her.

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