Page 37 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
“Oh, I know how they’re being decorated. How the decorations are being paid for is something else entirely. That is for my sister to worry about.”
“You’re going to worry about it, aren’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“She can’t choose her first dance song. Do you really think she’s going to organise buying all the decorations?”
Sylvie cupped her hands over her nose and mouth, dropping her chin. “This wedding is going to turn me into an alcoholic.”
CHAPTER EIGHT – SYLVIE
“Are you going to the light switch on tonight?” Gramps asked, joining me in the living room.
“I was hoping to go. What time is it?” I replied, flipping through the tabs on my Internet browser until I found the one I was looking for.
“Seven-thirty.”
“I should be able to.” I turned my attention to the stack of papers on the sofa next to me, and my binder slipped off onto the floor, scattering paper everywhere. “Oh, balls!”
He frowned. “That’s an awfully inefficient way of working, Sylvie. Do you usually work like that at home?”
I sighed, putting my laptop on the coffee table. “No. I live with two other women about the same age as me, but I pay extra for the spare bedroom to be an office. I’m the only one who works from home, so they don’t mind.”
He grunted. “You can’t keep working here if you’re here for the next month. You’re making a mess of my living room.”
“Sorry, sorry.” I scooped up the papers that had scattered on the floor and filing them back in order. I put them in a clear plastic sleeve inside the binder to make sure they didn’t go everywhere again.
“Maybe we need to set you up somewhere. Should I clear the dining room table for you?”
I looked up at him. Ihadconsidered asking, but now it seemed wrong. “No, it’s fine, I can manage.”
“Birdie, this is your house. You should have a space to work while you’re here.”
“It’s not. It’s your house. I just… own it,” I said lamely.
Gramps laughed. “I understand, but there are still two empty bedrooms, a dining room, and a junk room. If we can’t find you a space to work safely in all of those…”
I smiled. “I just don’t want to mess up your house.”
He shook his head, but he was still laughing. “I’ll see what I can do. Consider it your Christmas present.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Anytime.” He grinned. “Your grandmother wants you to see the lights be switched on. Beatrix is the bloody mascot.”
“The pig is the mascot for the light switch-on?”
“Yep. She knitted her a new jumper and everything.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ. Isn’t that going a bit far?”
“Everything is a bit far as far as that pig is concerned. I had to share my cheese sandwich with it earlier.” He huffed, sitting down on the other end of the sofa. “I’m going to switch to ham. She won’t make me sharethatwith the pig.”
I pressed my lips together to stifle a laugh. “Are you sure she’ll even allow pork in the house? I know she eats it, but I think she pretends she’s not eating it.”
“That’s why I need to get you an office. I’ll put a mini fridge in there for my bacon. I miss bacon.”
“Ah, I see. There’s the ulterior motive I was looking for.”
