Page 25 of Christmas in Vines

“Actually—” I looked around. “—this is the first time I’ve ever done something like this for anyone.”

She looked at me, and kept looking until I was squirming. “What?”

Willow smiled. “Thank you.”

Now she threw me. “Eh? For what?”

“For being romantic when almost every bone in your body is telling you otherwise,” she replied. “This is magical, so thank you.”

After a serene ride back, stealing kisses along the way, we got back to the square and began meandering around the streets, peering into shop windows and snacking on hot, melty caramel popcorn.

“So, what is my next trial of Hercules?” I asked her.

“We’re chopping down a tree,” she replied. “But that’s going to be the day after tomorrow because I’m going to Denver tomorrow to spend some time with my friend for a day.”

“Ah, I see,” I tossed a handful into my mouth. “The one with the troublesome brother?”

“The very same,” she replied as we headed to my car and hopped in. As the car warmed, she admitted, “And… I’ve been told that Maxwell and his father are coming to the office tomorrow, and I would rather avoid them.”

“I get it if you want to see your friend, but avoiding that douche is not going to help,” I replied. “Listen, I’m no guru, I don’t have the faintest fucking clue on what it is to deal with a messy ex, but I know it won’t help to avoid it. Just rip the goddamn bandage off and let it get air to heal. Besides, if you want to be the boss lady I know you want to be, you can’t shy away from confrontation. Just let it be made plain and clear that business is business and that your old relationship has no part in it.”

She angled her head. “Sounds guru-ish to me.”

I snorted and started the car. “Remind yourself of that when I mangle the tree we’re going to cut.”

ChapterEight

Willow

Tyler’s words stayed with me during that night. I texted Jackie and told her that I’d come over the weekend. He was right—I couldn’t avoid Maxwell forever, and the better the lines of engagement were drawn, the better it would be for me.

It's fine, Willow. No worries.Jackie replied.

After sending back a smiley emoji, I headed to my closet to pick out the best outfit I could wear the next day. I tugged on a white line, double-breasted pants suit and decided it would be best paired with a five-inch heel. I would damn well look the part of CEO in the making.

After I’d taken a shower and dressed in my PJs and a robe, I went to find Dad.

He was in his home office; the square room looked more like an 18th-century Regency study rather than a modern office. Sucking in a breath, I entered the large, high-ceilinged chamber and took in the large mahogany bookshelves lining the wall, each shelf crammed with business and law books. Leather furniture was in a semi-circle away from Dad’s matching desk, while there was an honest-to-God marble fireplace in the other half of the room that Dad chucked wood in when he got nostalgic.

Dad’s head was bowed over a book when I knocked on the door. “Hey, Dad, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure, sweetheart, just give me a moment,” he replied while scribbling something on a notepad.

I took a seat across from him and waited patiently for him to finish. When he did and looked up, he rolled his neck, and it cracked audibly. I winced.

“What’s up, Willow?” he asked.

“The meeting tomorrow,” I began. “I want to be a part of it.”

He frowned, “But I thought you were going to your friend tomorrow, and ever more, I didn’t think you wanted to be anywhere near your ex-boyfriend and his uppity father.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but that is ever more reason to do it,” I replied. “If I want to be a part of this company and take control of it one day, I cannot keep running away from anything that scares me. I can’t be so thin-skinned. All I need to do is make sure that this is business and that our interactions will have to stay that way. I’m not going to be crossing the line with either.”

Dad nodded and sat back in his chair. “I respect that, Willow and you’re right. You are going to take over this company one day, and you’ll have to be around entitled people like the Winslows. Hopefully, before I retire, I will have made most of those connections for you, and all you’ll have to do is maintain them.”

“I know, Dad,” I replied. “But what I need you to do is to outline for me what exactly is going to happen tomorrow so I can follow along.”

He smiled and reached for a folder. “Sure.”

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