Chapter 1 #2
So, I remind her. Gently. “I’m the boss, Nat.”
“Sure. But a boss with no employees, if you make them work on Christmas. Again.”
My mouth is open, preparing to remind her of last year’s precedent, but I shut it again. “Tons of people work on Christmas.”
“Then go hire them.” Her jaw is set. Firm. Unbudgeable.
It’s frustration more than anything that has me adding, “Christmas is just another day—”
“Maybe if you spent time with your family…no scratch that. Maybe if you had a family—” She stops, looking only slightly mortified.
“Ouch. My sister died. Remember?”
She sighs, and her face softens a fraction. “Ten years ago, according to Mrs. Weppler.” The town librarian. And the biggest gossip around. Great. “I’m not saying there should be a time limit on grief, but how long has it been since you celebrated Christmas?”
“That’s not the point.” No way am I admitting it was over a decade ago. That I wasted all those years I could have spent with Emily.
Her tone softens. “Even workaholic businessmen deserve to be happy.”
My phone beeps again, but I ignore it.
“I am happy,” I say as if it’s true. As if I believe it. “And this isn’t a therapy session.”
“Fine. You’re single and happy to work through the holidays. It keeps you busy.” She jabs a finger at me. “But it’s not like you to be so callous about your employees.”
“Last Christmas—”
“That was an emergency.”
An emergency wedding.
But it was. A car accident with the groom hurt and in need of surgery.
Their perfect wedding, still a few weeks away, had turned into a quick wedding at the hospital.
They wanted everything in place before his surgery, just in case.
My staff had worked their asses off to make it beautiful. On Christmas.
“You have a big heart, boss.”
“All lies.” I laugh, but it’s heavy with emotion. Remembering that day. And the day from years before. Emily lying in a hospital bed. Hooked up to machines. Holding her hand but not getting a response.
But this wasn’t like Emily. The groom survived. Everything worked out.
She opens her mouth but hesitates as Jonah walks by. She nods, and once he’s out of earshot, she leans closer. “You didn’t charge them. Bishop Fields ate the cost—”
“They had tons of medical bills, Nat. I’m not a monster.”
“No, you’re not.” And she says it as if I’m the one needing convincing.
My phone beeps again.
“Someone wants your attention, boss.”
I wave my hand. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” She laughs. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
Instead of taking the bait, I turn toward the consultation room. “Let’s go talk to Mrs. James.”
“Okay, sure,” she says, sounding smug for some reason. “And then you should call your secret boyfriend.”
Mrs. James isn’t happy and threatens to tell all her friends how unhappy she is. And her screeching gives me a headache. So, I give her New Year’s weekend.
The staff also worked last New Year’s for the charity event, and when Nat points that out, I stand firm. “This is an event venue. We do events. Often these events occur on a holiday. The staff can’t have both Christmas and New Year’s off. That’s final.”
Once I’m back in my office, I swallow a few pills with water, hastily eat a sandwich, and check my messages. I have several texts from Aidyn. The first few are friendly. But the last one blasts me for not responding.
I’m not used to this. Being in a relationship. Having to be accountable to someone. Which is ridiculous. We’ve been together for almost seven years. But most of that time he was here and I was in New York. Now that we’re both in the same town, it should be easier. Better. And in some ways, it is.
And others—not so much.
I send a quick text telling him I’ll call him later.
He doesn’t respond. Great.
My mood isn’t the best when Jonah knocks over a box of Dalek table toppers. “Don’t you have something else you could do?” I snap. His eyes get big, and I swear he’s about to cry.
Nat grabs my arm and pulls me into the hallway. “Stop harassing the help.”
“Why are we hiring twelve-year-olds?”
I expect a scathing retort back. Or at least a look. Instead, she shakes her head and hands me a list.
“What’s this?”
“We need a few things from the store.”
I hand it back to her. Not sure why I’m being so pissy. “I hire people to do that sort of thing.”
“They’re all in hiding,” she says, jabbing the paper against my chest. “I can’t pull off all these amazing weddings without people to help. Stop scaring the employees.”
“You remember I’m the boss, right?”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Jonah rushes by, ducking behind the large tombstone he’s carrying for an upcoming zombie wedding.
Once I leave Bishop Fields, I drive around to clear my head.
I’m normally grumpy, but not so grumpy that I get thrown out of my own business.
But it’s the holidays. If there was a way to fast-forward from after Halloween to mid-January, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
Skip all the family-centered crap that sucks when you don’t have a family.
Or when you’ve lost yours.
When I first moved to New York, I didn’t have anyone to spend the holidays with, so skipping all of that stress was easier.
But that was a copout. I could have gone home.
It doesn’t take a therapist to figure out why I didn’t. My sister was married to the man I loved.
I was happy for Emily. She’d found the love of her life. I’d just needed time to get over my crush, so seeing them together didn’t destroy me. But a few years turned into too many, and then my sister was gone. All that time with Emily was wasted because of my selfishness.
Coming home after that was too hard. Emily was gone. Aidyn was broken and angry, and we fought constantly.
And I wanted him still.
I buried myself in work and was rewarded with promotion after promotion until I reached the top. Marketing director for a major restaurant.
I used apps to find random hookups. Dating seemed pointless.
None of them was Aidyn.
My life was fine. Fulfilling enough. Or so I’d thought.
Until Jane and Isaac’s wedding, when everything changed. It still feels unreal. Getting to kiss Aidyn. Touch him. Confess how much I loved him. And most of all, Aidyn admitted that he loved me too. It was a dream come true.
And now, seven years later, we’re still together.
But are we? I can’t kiss him whenever I want. I can’t tell anyone about us. Other couples we know—Zye and Miles, Isaac and his prince, my sister Jane and her new boyfriend—hold hands and share kisses. Will we ever get there?
Zye’s a local wedding planner, and we have several mutual clients. I recommend him when I can. Especially now that he’s planned several weddings that didn’t end in disaster. And he has my brochure if anyone wants a rustic wedding or, apparently, a Whovian wedding.
Since I’m in town, I might as well stop by and see Zye. We have a mutual bridezilla who keeps changing her mind on everything.
Isaac greets me when I walk through the door of Zyetastic Weddings. Simon jumps up and runs over to me. He’s seven and is Isaac’s son and my nephew. The emu in the corner of the room, pecking at a tiara, squawks.
“Hello, Justine,” I say with a nod. “Still as friendly as ever.”
Simon hugs me and whispers, “Don’t get too close, Uncle Garrett. Justine is grumpy today. Daddy says it’s her Christy stage.”
“That’s not what I said. Not exactly.”
I wink at Simon and he runs back to his drawing.
“Where’s Zye?”
“He’ll be back in a minute. Is this about the Wilson wedding?”
“It is.” We talk about the client, and then Simon shows me his new secret handshake. Great. I just perfected the last one.
“Mommy went with us to the castle on Thanksgiving. It was so much fun. They had so much food.” His eyes widen.
“So much. And I got to see Prince Phillipe—he’s not really a mad scientist.” This last part is said in a hushed voice.
“He was smiling the whole time. And Mr. Weiss was there. And he said I could call him Luka. Only Reggie said I shouldn’t… ”
Isaac mouths “I’m sorry” over Simon’s head, and I laugh.
“Hey, bud. Maybe you could read Justine a story until Miles gets back. She’s probably just tired of being cooped up inside. But don’t get too close to her,” Isaac says.
“Okay.” Simon takes off.
I take Simon’s spot at Isaac’s desk. “How’s everything going with Jane?”
“She’s upholding her end of the bargain. I thought it would be awkward, but so far, everything has been good. Simon has stopped asking me if she’s going to leave again.”
My sister struggled with depression after Simon was born. Losing Emily years before was probably a contributing factor. No one realized it at the time, but she had issues with addiction. However, she’s been sober for the last year and a half.
“I’m glad, Isaac. I hope it lasts.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“Not lately. I think she’s avoiding me.”
He snorts. “More like she’s avoiding Christy. And you two are always together.”
I try not to react as my heart skips a few beats. But Isaac doesn’t seem to realize what he said.
“Daddy?” Simon runs up with half a picture in his hand and tears in his eyes. “Justine ate my picture.”
“Do you want to draw another one?”
He sniffs a few times and nods.
I stand and ruffle Simon’s hair. “Thanks, Isaac. Tell Zye to call me.”