Page 7 of A Very Titan Christmas
Older kids reached for the younger ones, sometimes helping, sometimes making it worse. Sauce spilled, spoons clanged, andsomeone knocked over a lid. The boys kept repeating the exact words over and over. Things they’d pulled off the internet. The girls rolled their eyes. Mia barely noticed. This was her happy place. This beautiful, noisy, chaotic tribe was hers—and she was certain every person in the room felt the same.
Once the kids had filled their plates and disappeared to couches, corners, or wherever space could be found, the Titan ladies got their food and sat down. Beth positioned Carson on her lap. Luca and Ginny made a mess of their plates, which no one minded. Wine, lemonade, juice, and water were passed around.
Mia sampled a bite of everything before jumping into business. “I told Boss Man we can’t have our holiday weekend at the resort where we always do because of the fire damage.” She tried a spoonful of bean salad. Delicious. “He told me to lean on the resort’s management and get the place ready, but that’s impossible. Major fire damage. They’ll be lucky to reopen within a year.”
Sugar sighed and pursed her bright pink lips. “I told him the place had nearly burned to the ground. But he’s adamant that the show will go on, yada yada.” A slight crease formed between her brows. “It’s been a tradition since Beth and Roman’s wedding. He’s never gonna admit it, but I think he’s having a hard time imagining something different for the holidays.”
“I’m all in favor of changing up the tradition, but booking another place this close to Christmas will be hard.” Beth wiped green beans off Carson’s cheek and then took a bite of pot roast. “Especially with how many we’re bringing.”
“Even if we only stayed for one night, it would be hard unless we consider traveling farther out of the area,” Caterina agreed. Her dark eyes cut to her children, Jace and Noè, returning for seconds. Noè couldn’t reach the butterscotch bars. Jace pushed it an inch out of Noè’s tip-toe reach. She snapped her fingerstwice. “Jacian Arrio, if you don’t help your brother get what he needs—”
“I am, I am. Jeez, Mama.”
Sugar’s eyebrows arched.Jeez, Mama, she mouthed and turned to Mia. “She’s gonna kill him in your kitchen.”
“Not today, she won’t.” Mia didn’t even turn around. “Jace, honey, give your brother a bar and your mother a break.”
Nicola rubbed her hand over her swollen belly. “They should give me all the cookies and butterscotch bars, and then”—she snapped her fingers, playfully copying Cat—“there would be no more problems.”
“Mom.” Asal Westin walked into the kitchen with a side-eye that only a teenager could muster and crossed her arms, hip cocked to the side. “You said it would be quiet enough for me to study.”
“Did you eat already?” Sugar asked.
“Yeah, but I need to study. I need quiet.”
“It’s quiet somewhere.” Sugar shrugged. “Wander until you find where that is.”
“If I fail—”
“You haven’t failed a test in your life.” Sugar wiped her mouth and pushed out of her chair. “All right. Let’s go find you someplace to study.”
Clara Winters and Violet Westin scooched by Sugar and Asal and walked into the kitchen, arm in arm. “We’re starving. We need more food.”
“Actually, you’re not,” Sugar called over her shoulder. “Make another plate, and don’t feed the dogs all your food. That will go a long way to feeling full.”
They giggled and dove into the food as if it were their first plate, not their second.
“Mom?” Clara balanced her plate in one hand and knelt on the chair Sugar had vacated. Violet moved in close behind. Bothgirls replaced their carefree expressions with anxious ones. “We heard Kelly and Asal talking, and they said the Christmas party is canceled.”
Sarah sighed. “IknewKelly was eavesdropping. Sorry.”
“It’s not canceled,” Mia said and swept her gaze over the faces of women she trusted. “We’re going to figure out what to do.” She’d make sure of that somehow, even with less than three weeks left, even if she had to stitch the entire thing back together herself. These were her people. They could do anything.
CHAPTER FOUR
Silverberry Ridge, Vermont
Abright, sunnyday greeted Titan Group in Silverberry Ridge, Vermont. Bryce parked in the icy parking lot in front of the main lodge, where guests checked in. Their oversized black Suburban stood out in a row of Jeeps and Subarus with roof racks of snow gear. His heart had quickened when they’d curved up the road to Porter’s family resort, but now that he was here, it was pumping double time.
He’d been a teenager the last time he was in Silverberry Ridge. He lived there for two years. His parents never let the family stay anywhere long. They thrived in turmoil and couldn’t handle life without bouncing from state to state. The Richmonds crisscrossed the country, down the West Coast and then up the East Coast, until the end of his junior year, when they’d dropped into the Midwest.
Twenty years later, not much had changed in Silverberry Ridge. It was as quaint as a bustling mountain town could be in a New England December.
Roman Hart, who was sitting in the passenger seat, let out a long whistle. He stared out the windshield and shook his head. “This is like if Mayberry was in the mountains and”—he gestured to the sign with lights and ribbons in front of the main lodge—“very into the holidays.”
“You can say that again.” Bryce spotted the second Suburban pulling into the parking lot with Jax Michaelson and Cash Garrison.
The Porter assignment would be a cakewalk and a perfect introduction to kick off his career with Titan Group. He’d be working with men he already knew—men who had once worked with his brother also—and getting to know new teammates before he dove headfirst into heavy-duty jobs after the first of the new year.
