Page 18 of Christmas By Lamplight
After the Lamplight Books story, they did a follow-up on the charity event. The reporter had done a full investigation into the original scandal.
She’d found the original talk show footage—the unedited version where the actress had unleashed a string of vitriol at Tanner. It was followed by Tanner’s response, which, although harsh and defensive, now made so much more sense. The piece quoted sources who’d been present during the rehearsal and described Portia as a demanding narcissist.
Meanwhile, Portia was already backpedaling on social media, claiming it was all a misunderstanding. Her publicist issued a damage control statement. The internet, for once, had turned its attention to the right villain.
Tanner Blake was exonerated.
In the Crescent Gate Studios conference room, twenty-three floors above Los Angeles, Tanner sat across the table from Gregory Wallman, the man who’d discovered three of the last decade’s biggest stars. He could make a career with a handshake. The script in front of Tanner was good, and the role was even better—a complex character with real emotional range. It could take his career to the next level.
“We want you,” Wallman said simply. “The role is yours if you want it. We start shooting in June, but we need a commitment today.” He smiled. “I know the timing isn’t ideal, but we’ve got a narrow window.”
Tanner’s agent, Laurence, sat beside him, practically vibrating with suppressed excitement. This was five years in the making. It would change everything.
“Can I have a moment?” Tanner asked.
He stepped out and leaned on the balcony railing. Los Angeles lay below him, a vast, glittering sprawl. Somewhere out there was his apartment, his recording studio, and his life—everything he had worked for.
His phone showed three missed calls from Sloane, two from his manager, and texts from friends congratulating him on the hospital video going viral in the right way. The scandal was over. His career was back on track. All he had to do was say yes.
He pulled up Carrie’s contact instead. No new messages. She would be at the bookshop, even though it was closed, probably ordering inventory to replace what had sold. The thought of the previous day made him smile.
The door opened behind him. Laurence.
“This is it, Tanner. This is what we’ve been working toward. That’s Gregory Wallman of Crescent Gate, man. Lightning doesn’t strike twice.”
“I know.”
He slapped Tanner’s back. “So come on.”
Tanner nodded and went back inside with Laurence. Wallman popped the cork on a bottle of champagne, and they all drank a toast to the project.
Carrie stood in her empty bookshop and looked out the falling snow. Everything had worked out. She was keeping the shop. Tanner was now in his meeting. Even if he didn’t get this job, she knew there would be others. He was too talented not to succeed. It was Christmas Eve, and everything was as it should be. So why did her heart ache?
She went home, made some hot chocolate with whipped cream on top, and settled down by the fire with a book. “Merry Christmas, Carrie,” she whispered, and she began reading.
Eight hours later, the doorbell rang and startled her from her sleep. She picked up the book that had fallen to the floor, and then stood.
When she opened the door, there he was. Not Tom. Not Santa. Just Tanner Blake, the man who fixed her shelves and her wobbly chair, his jacket dusted with snow, holding two cups of hot chocolate.
“Hi,” he said. “Merry Christmas Eve.”
An unreasonable amount of joy bubbled up from her heart. “What are you doing here?”
“I got the job.” He set the cups on the counter.
Her joy fizzled as quickly as it had come, but she did her best to look happy. “Oh. Well, that’s great! Congratulations!”
Tanner nodded. “I sat in that meeting this morning—Christmas Eve, for God’s sake!—in a room full of people talking about points and residuals and marketing strategies, and all I could think about was yesterday. You, me, and Shannon, working together. The town showing up. Mrs. Snyder buying seventeen cookbooks.” He moved closer. “That was real, the sense of community, the people . . . more than real. It felt like home. And I thought about you. I love how you did what you set out to do.”
She smiled, but it felt hollow. Tanner’s support meant so much to her—maybe too much. For, in spite of both of them having achieved what they’d hoped for, it meant that their moment together was over. Seeing him this one last time made the pain of losing him harder to hide. She looked at the fire, at the hot chocolate cups—anywhere but his eyes. With one look, she knew she’d betray her true feelings.
“I didn’t take it.”
“What?” Carrie blinked and looked straight at him, unable to do anything but stare.
His eyes softened as he smiled. “I turned down the job.”
“But it’s everything you’ve been working for.”
