Page 19 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“Oh, Isla. I’m so lucky to have landed on your client list!”
“I’m the lucky one,” I tell her. “Trust me.”
Starting over means cold-calling, emailing, and borderline begging my way through town. Offering my services at a deeply discounted Sugarpine Springs rate isn’t charity. It sure as hell isn’t some quirky career pivot either. This is survival. My entire future depends on pulling off this reinvention.
Once upon a time, I dreamed of walking away from AdCraft on a wave of self-empowerment. In reality? They broke me down piece by piece, bled my work dry, then dared me to stay. Forced into quitting, I left with nothing but a shriveled-up spider plant and wounded pride.
This is my reset. My chance to build something that’smine. Even if, most days, it feels like I’m chasing a dream that presently only lives inside my head.
Before I can say anything else, the bell above the door chimes, announcing Willow and Asher’s arrival.
Trailing behind them is a tiny—but mighty—tornado. Jovie’s voice rises over the hum of the café, a wail that could rival any opera singer’s. She’s amid a full-on production, arms flailing and sparkly boot–clad feet clomping.
“I was so good, Mommy!” declares the four-year-old, her blonde curls bouncing beneath her hat as she twirls in place. “Did you see my pirouette?”
“You were amazing, baby,” Willow coos, crouching down to her daughter’s level. “But now that the show is over, it’s time to turn on our quiet voices and calm bodies, okay?”
“Stars aren’t quietorcalm!” The little girl singsongs dramatically. “They’re shiny! And I’m a star!” She looks up at Asher. “Right, Uncle Ash?”
A few patrons chuckle, and Holly grins as she watches the floor of her shop morph into a stage.
“You sure are, kiddo. Let’s get you a cupcake to celebrate.”
“Two!” she bargains, then taps his camera bag. “Can I look at my pictures now?”
Asher, doting uncle and kick-ass professional photographer, has been tasked with documenting the Christmas dance recital. Knowing Jovie’s spirit, he’s undoubtedly captured several memory cards’ worth of action shots.
He grins, clearly under his niece’s spell. “Yup. As soon as I get some coffee.”
“Ooh. Yes! Coffee for me, too?”
Willow taps her daughter’s nose. “The last thing you need is caffeine. You probably don’t need sugar, either.”
“I’m too sweet?”
“The sweetest.” Asher scoops her up, twirling her until bubbly giggles reverberate through the space.
Their mingling laughter surrounds me in warmth.
And…tension.
Every passing moment with the Thorne family tangles me deeper into a lie that’s sure to blow up in my face.
In the end, the only casualty will be me.
Asher sets his niece down in the booth next to me before sliding in on my other side. Willow grabs the last empty chair, her coat swishing as she sits.
Jovie’s eager hands tug at the menu. “So many choices.”
Holly beams at her. “What looks good?”
“Everything!” She’s one step from licking the laminated pictures. “I want a million gazillion cupcakes!”
“I don’t blame you. They’re so good.” I slide over my untouched plate. “Why don’t you help me polish these off first? We can start with one each and work our way up.”
Jovie squeals in agreement, the happy sound punctuated by the jingling of a bell. The door swings open, sending a rush of chilly air inside.
I don’t even have to look up to know who has entered. My body recognizes his presence in a way that shouldn’t be scientifically possible.
