One Winter's Night: The Twelve Dates of Christmas / Frozen Heart, Melting Kiss / A Cadence Creek Christmas. SUSAN MEIER
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good for them to have something to talk about to ease him into sharing his story, but she wouldn’t talk at the expense of Olivia’s privacy. Carefully crafting her answer, she said, “She identified more with being persecuted and abandoned.”
“You were persecuted and abandoned?”
She caught his gaze. If he was going to ease himself in, shouldn’t he have done it by now? Still, he already knew about Wayne. What did it matter to go a step or two further?
“Sort of. My parents disowned me.”
“What?”
“My parents have money. I had rebelled. Embarrassed them by marrying someone so far below their class. So they kicked me out.”
“Oh.”
Great. Now, to him, she wasn’t just a stupid girl. She was a stupid girl who was alone.
Fury with herself rattled through her. She never should have accepted the cocoa.
But she had. And she’d started a story that made her look bad. Again. She was just plain tired of looking bad to him, especially because this part of her problem wasn’t her fault; it was her parents’. And call her prideful, but once, just once, she’d like to look sane to him.
“Even though they’d disowned me, when Wayne died I went home with my tail between my legs, expecting a scolding and probably a time of penance but also expecting to be accepted back. And maybe getting some help with my grief. Some love. But my parents wouldn’t let me in.” She shook her head. “They didn’t even come to the door. A maid told me to leave and never come back.”
He stared at her. “You had told them your husband had died, right?”
“They could not have cared less.” She sighed. “I lost my family because I married a guy I loved when I was too young to realize all the consequences. And every year, especially at Christmas, I mourn the loss. Not just of my husband, but also of my family. Olivia and Laura Beth go home, and I have nowhere to go. No home. It hurt to be rejected. It hurt not having their emotional support. But it’s the aftermath of my mistakes that are killer. Years of loneliness. Years of regret. Getting kicked out of my family means I have no family. I have no one. I am alone.”
She combed her fingers through her hair. She’d gone too far. Said things she didn’t even admit to herself. And he was silent. He wasn’t going to confide, and he didn’t sympathize. He made no move to comfort her. She’d finally vocalized the thing she hadn’t even told Laura Beth and Olivia, and he sat there, saying nothing.
And it all started because she’d been stupid enough to think he would open up to her.
Man, she was a goof. Or she didn’t know very much about men. Or she didn’t know much about rich men. But this guy who so easily found all her secrets, and got her to confess the rest, wasn’t about to tell her anything.
She bounced off her seat. “You know what? Sunday is our cleaning day. I’ve got to get back to the apartment.”
He rose. “Sure.”
He walked to his closet, extracted her coat and helped her into it. “Let me call Norman to drive you.”
She faced him. “Yeah, thanks. I’d appreciate that.”
He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and texted. “He’ll be downstairs in a second.”
“Thanks.”
Horrible awkwardness once again enveloped them as they stood in his entryway, humiliation cascading from her head to her toes. Why would she think he would confide in her? And why did she think he should care about her troubles? He didn’t like her. She was a fake date. He’d helped her with her job search because that was his part of the bargain. Not because he liked her.
And she was an adult. She might not have a family, but she had good friends in Laura Beth and Olivia. Soon she’d have a job. She wasn’t really alone. She was just alone on Christmas.
She sent him her fake smile. “I really appreciate this.”
“You’re welcome...again.”
She winced. “I already said thanks, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. You did.”
Again, the little foyer grew quiet, and she suddenly realized why this awkwardness felt different, stronger. She had no reason to be standing there.
She was such an idiot. Always an idiot.
She turned to the door and, a gentleman, he reached around her to open it.
She slipped outside and headed down the silent, empty hall to the elevator. When would she learn none of this was real?
* * *
Ricky stood in front of the closed door, filled with pain for her. As she’d told him her story, it had taken every ounce of restraint he had not to pull her into his arms and comfort her.
But to what end? He was wounded as badly, if not worse than she was. She needed someone strong, someone whole, to be whole for her, to fill her stocking at Christmas and tell her it didn’t matter that her parents didn’t want her... She had him.
Yearning rose in him. How he wanted to do that. Wanted to give her that. She’d cared for a husband with cancer. She’d nursed him. She’d probably watched him die. Her parents had abandoned her. Rejected her in her hour of need.
Then she’d moved to New York City and found nothing but failure and more rejection.
He understood what it was like to be alone. Still, even in his darkest hours, he knew he could pick up the phone and call his mom and dad.
She had no one. Any scrap of consolation or comfort could fill her. But he didn’t have anything to give. He couldn’t be a boyfriend for real.
So he’d kept his hands at his sides, measured his words, hadn’t given her false hope.
Now he ached for her.
The next day, he went to work carrying the ache, trying to console himself with the reminder that he’d done something good for her when he’d gone the extra mile, brought her to his home and sent out her résumé. But it didn’t work. The ache stayed with him. It sometimes even nudged aside the guilt he felt over Blake’s death.
Somebody, somewhere had to really help this woman. Not just be a roommate or listen to her troubles, but do something tangible. And finding her a job suddenly seemed like the salvation she needed and also the way for him to feel better.
His secretary came into his office with that day’s mail. “Good morning, Mr. Langley.”
“Just set the mail on my desk—”
He stopped himself. He knew he was upset about Eloise, but that had sounded gruff and rude.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
Halfway to the door, Janey paused. Peered back at him. “It’s fine.”
“No. I shouldn’t have snapped. It’s just that I had a weird weekend.”
She took the few paces that brought her to his desk. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why?”
She shook her head. “You’ve never said you were sorry before.” She smiled. “Never mind. Not important.”
She left the room, and he didn’t think anything of it until his personal assistant forgot to ship his mother’s Christmas gift and he exploded. “It’s Christmas season! Holiday mail is a mess. It takes weeks to get a parcel delivered. You can’t—”
Thoughts of Eloise rumbled through him. Her parents wouldn’t even accept gifts from her. He had parents who loved him. They not only loved his presents; they sent him presents also. They wanted him home for Christmas. They wanted him home anytime. Any day. It was his own sadness and guilt