Page 49 of His Christmas Wife

By unspoken accord, she joined him near a set of four wicker chairs that were covered with thick, inviting yellow cushions. A small glass table was in front of the grouping which had been arranged to take advantage of the sight of a distant bridge.

She curled into one of the comfortable chairs, then covered herself with a blanket that was draped over the arm. “How do you ever leave to go to the office?” Much less spend so much time there?

“This is where I think, recharge. Work is for action. For righting wrongs.”

Studying this complex man, she drank some of her cocoa. The marshmallows had melted, and the drizzle coated the inside of the cup. Each mouthful was becoming sweeter and more potent.

“As the scandal unfolded, Mom had no one to turn to. Most of her social circle shunned her. For her, that was far worse than losing the house and other possessions. People she considered lifelong friends, including Greta’s parents? Gone. Her heartache was real. In the end, very few people attended her funeral.”

Kaylee winced. Her dad’s memorial service had been packed with people who shared stories of how he’d positively influenced their lives.

“I wanted to restore honor to my family and reestablish the resources my father squandered. It was built over generations, meant to help our descendants and others through a foundation.” He slammed his cup down. “No one had a right to gamble it away, one risky bet at a time.”

His problems were so different from hers that it was difficult to have any understanding. “It looks as if you righted the ship?”

“Not yet. But I’m on the way.”

She slid her mug next to his. “How did you do it?”

“I started my own management company, and I’m fortunate to be well connected.”

“Something to do with the owl on your duffel bag and in your study?”

“You are persistent.” His words seemed to land somewhere between a compliment and an irritation.

“It’s one of the traits that got me through school and is helping me climb the corporate ladder.” As well as continuing to push forward despite the financial hurdles in her way.

Frost pressed his palms together.

“I’ll look it up when I get home.”

“Of course you will.”

She leaned forward. “It’s a secret society, right?”

He laughed. “What do you know about those things?”

“I read articles and watch documentaries.” In fact, it was a guilty pleasure. She read everything she could about the Skull and Bones, the Yale society that three US presidents belonged to. People who belonged to those types of organizations went on to become the world’s power elite. From what she knew of her boss, he definitely belonged to that class.

“I see.”

“And honestly, everyone I’ve run across who is a member of a civic group is more than happy to talk about it, as if listing off their resume. Ergo…”

He waited.

“Whatever you’re involved with has to be a secret society.”

“If the whole admin assistant gig doesn’t work out for you, you could try becoming a detective.”

Beneath the blanket, she drummed her fingers on her thigh. “Which is the confirmation I was seeking. If I was wrong, you would have said so.” And it explained so much. His connection to Bonds. The reason he’d been able to recover his financial resources so quickly. He was talented, no doubt. But it went beyond that to friendships and kinship with others. “I’m confused as to why you’re the CEO at Christoff if you have your own company.”

“A temporary position. Turnaround CEO, not one who leads in times of long-term growth.”

“Makes sense.” And also explained the other numerous management changes that had been made. All his own people, no doubt.

The next choice would be someone to focus on growth and sustainability.

Projects that Sylvia had been planning over the next three years had been accomplished in months, even weeks, under Frost’s tenure. And he’d done it all with fewer employees as well.

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