Page 19 of Christmas with Her Millionaire Boss

“Noelle was filling me in on some of the family history,” he said, turning to Belinda.

“You picked the right person for the job. She remembers more about the family history than I do at this point. In fact, she can tell you who those people in the portrait are. I forgot a long time ago.”

“Ned’s great-grandparents from Bamberg.”

“See what I mean?” The older woman tugged at her companion’s arm. “Come on, Todd. I’ll get you that pie.”

“So, keeper of the family history, huh?”

“Someone has to. Family’s important.”

“That, Mrs. Fryberg,” he said, shuffling back to the chairs, “depends upon the family.”

He shouldn’t have said the words out loud; they invited a conversation he didn’t want to have. Taking a seat, he steered the conversation back to her. “What about your family? Do you maintain your own history as diligently as your in-laws’?”

A shadow crossed her face. “Like you said,” she replied. “Depends upon the family.”

It appeared they had both dropped curious comments. In her case, she’d dropped two. Was it possible they had more in common than he’d thought?

Catching her gaze from across the space, he held it in his. Trying to tell her he understood. “What’s that old saying about families? You can’t live with them...you can’t take them out and bury them in the woods.”

“I don’t think those are the words.”

Her expression clouded again as she added, “Besides, you can’t bury something you don’t have.” The words came out low and hesitant. Her gaze broke from his and returned to the photographs on the mantel as though she was speaking more to them than James.

Normally when a woman made coy remarks, he ignored them, seeing how coy was nothing more than an attempt at attention. Something about Noelle’s remark, however, cut through him. There was weight to her words that spoke to a piece inside him.

Maybe that’s why he decided to ask. “You don’t have a family?”

Her sigh rattled signs in Chicago. “What the hell. Not like it’s a secret.

“I was raised by the state,” she said. “My mother left me in the town crèche on Christmas Eve and disappeared never to be heard of again.”

That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, he thought. Better that she disappear altogether than sell you a fantasy and then unceremoniously pop the bubble.

He stared at the crease in his new pants. No wonder her comment affected him the way it had.

The two of them had more in common than she realized.

“Anyway, I grew up in the foster system. The Frybergs were the first real family I ever had. If it weren’t for them, people would still be calling me the Manger Baby.”

“The what? Never mind.” He figured it out as soon as he asked. She said she’d been left in the crèche.

Something else dawned on him, as well. “Is that how you got your name? Because you were found at Christmas?”

Her cheeks turned crimson as she nodded. “Nothing like advertising your past, huh? I shudder to think what they’d have called me if I were a boy.”

“Trust me, I can imagine.”

They both chuckled. When they were finished, he sat back in his chair and took a fresh look at the woman he’d spent the last twenty-four hours with. “It suits you,” he said. “The name.”

He wasn’t surprised when she rolled her eyes. “So I’ve been told by half the town.”

“Half the town would be right.” There was a brightness about her that reminded him of a Christmas ornament. He could only imagine what she’d looked like as a kid. All eyes and luminosity.

No wonder Kevin Fryberg fell for her.

Knowing her story, a lot of things made sense now. Her loyalty. Her attachment to every tradition Ned Fryberg ever started.

He sat back in his chair. “You know, hearing all this, I’ve got to say I’m surprised Belinda sold to me when she had you around to take her place.”

The muscle on her jaw twitched. He’d clipped a nerve. “I said the same thing. I suggested she retire, and let Todd run the place while he groomed me to be his replacement, but she said this was the best move for the store. Hammond’s would give us the capital we needed to stay modern. Plus, she thought selling would give me more freedom to do other things. She didn’t want me to feel trapped in Fryberg because I was tied to the business.”

Interesting. Made sense. While Noelle professed loyalty now, she was also young, with a host of options in front of her. Better to sell the business while Belinda could control the deal. That’s what he would do. His father, as well. Hell, if James weren’t so good at making money, Jackson probably would have sold the store years ago—and not because he wanted his son to have freedom.

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