Page 5 of Ten Christmases Without You
“Good to be starting on equal footing with the others, then.” The male voice sailed toward her from the doorway.
He’s already here? Nooo.
Slowly, she braced herself to be sociable, putting on her most cordial smile.
How much of their conversation had he heard? There was only one way to find out.
CHAPTER TWO
Emmy turned around and nearly dropped her eggnog when she saw Charlie, all grown up.
He still had the same sandy-brown hair, but the face under it had certainly filled out. His chiseled features and strong jawline accentuated his green eyes, and his robust shoulders were wider than the teenage version. Had he been working out since the day they’d left high school?
“Hey, Charlie,” Madison said, holding out her hand and giving his a shake. “Good to see you out of my computer screen.”
“Same,” he said with a smile and a nod.
Emmy tugged on her gray zip-up sweatshirt in an attempt to straighten the wrinkled lumps that had inevitably formed when she’d balled it up behind her head during the flight.
An awkward silence fell between the three of them.
“Are you guys using the new MRTS system yet? It’s been a learning curve for us,” Madison said.
“They’re rolling it out slowly,” Charlie replied. “It hasn’t made it to my department yet, but we piloted the PRO initiative, and I hear it’s similar.”
Madison made a face. “Oh, we never had to use PRO, thank goodness.”
He chuckled. “It’s not as bad as people say it is.”
Emmy glazed over. She had no idea what they were talking about.
“Well, I’d better check on Jack,” Madison said, evidently noticing. “Someone needs to save him before Dad challenges him to the yearly garage ping-pong tournament.”
“Sounds fun.” Charlie offered a cordial nod.
“It is until they start getting competitive, and it goes on all night: ‘Best out of three!’ then ‘best out of seven!’” She laughed.
“Come on into the kitchen in a bit,” she said to Emmy, giving her the verbal cue to stay in the living room a little longer to avoid everyone.
“Okay,” Emmy said.
Madison pushed through the double doors that swung on hinges like the ones at a saloon.
Once they were alone, Emmy clumsily sipped her eggnog and fiddled with a gold bell ornament on the tree, inspecting it to fill the silence. She let go and looked back at him.
“I hear the Christmas cookies are delicious,” she said, pointing to the kitchen doors as if he needed help comprehending that statement.
Emmy didn’t have a clue how to be social these days. She spent most of her time in her closet of a studio apartment in the city, working like mad on one assignment or another, running her boss’s errands because Vivienne trusted her the most, or tucked away in a back corner of the office building where she worked, sending cold emails to offer advertising services.
“Hm?” he asked, forcing her out of her employment assessment.
“What?” she asked in return.
His brows pulled together. “I said I’d be happy to go into the kitchen with you if you wanted some of the Christmas cookies.”
“Oh, no, I definitely don’t need any. I had a full pint of ice cream yesterday when I found out I’d have to fly in earlier than expected to avoid the storm.”
Stop blabbering.
