Summer nodded. “I suppose we should.”
“You aren’t moving,” her niece pointed out.
She nodded again. Her feet seemed to be stuck.
Heaving a sigh, Chloe balanced her boxes in one arm and opened the door.
“
Chloe
,” both Summer and Viola gasped.
The teenager just walked in and looked around.
Viola shook her head. “I guess you’re ready, regardless.”
“Okay,” she said, hearing her voice shake. She looked down at her clothing. She wore one of her black suits, but underneath she wore a bright blue silk shell, and under that an even bluer lingerie set. She felt both daring and her usual self all at once. She wondered what Jon would think.
“You look fabulous.” Viola smiled at her. “He’s going to love this, and if he doesn’t, just kiss him. In the fairy tales, it’s always the kiss that’s the most powerful, and you believe in fairy tales, remember?”
She nodded. She did.
A vaguely punk-looking woman strolled out from another room. She was very thin and looked thinner for all the black she wore: leather pants, tight sweater, and stiletto boots with spikes that matched those on her choker. Her hair had purple highlights, and her eyes were rimmed dark with eyeliner.
Trudy? Summer blinked, surprised.
The Goth woman pointed at Chloe’s feet. “Cool boots.”
“Thanks. I like your hair,” Chloe replied. “Maybe I need purple streaks.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” The woman grinned impishly and then glanced at them all. “Can I help you?”
“I’m just here for Summer.” Chloe pointed. “She’s my aunt. She has a thing for some guy who works here.”
“
Chloe
.” Viola winced, rushing forward. She set the boxes she carried on a table, added the boxes her daughter carried to the pile, and then took the teenager by the scruff of her neck. “We dropped her on her head when she was a baby. Don’t listen to her.”
But the woman in all black was already looking at Summer like she was a specimen under a telescope. “Summer Welles, lawyer,” she said. “You know Jon? Or maybe I should ask, you know Jon well?”
“I’d like to.” She cleared her throat. “And you’re Trudy.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “He told you about me?”
She nodded. “You’re important to him.”
“So are you, apparently,” Trudy mumbled, tapping her black-tipped finger against her dark lips. Then she gestured to all the brightly wrapped boxes and shook her head. “You’re going about it the wrong way. He hates presents.”
“No, he just isn’t used to receiving them.” She looked at the closed door where she supposed he was. “Is he in?”
“Yeah.” The woman spread her stance, arms crossed. “What’s your plan?”
“I’m going to convince him to stay with me.”
The woman’s gaze narrowed. “In London?”
“Yes.”
The woman face lit so bright with hope that it eclipsed her dark attire. “If you convince Jon to stay I’ll be your best friend forever. Let me help you with those boxes.”
Viola quirked her brow.
Summer nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for giving me a ride.”
“We’re always here for you.” Her sister gave her a quick hug.
Chloe patted her shoulder. “This plan is crazy, but it’s kind of cool, too. Kick ass.”
She smiled, touched. “Thanks, Chloe.”
“This way,” Trudy said, balancing the rest of the packages. Somehow even with her hands full, she managed to open the office door. “Delivery for you,” she called out.
There was a growl from inside the room. Summer lifted her head and walked in.
Jon sat slumped in an executive’s chair behind a simple modern desk. He hadn’t shaved and his eyes were ringed with fatigue.
All Summer wanted to do was to hold him and soothe him to sleep. After.
He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her blouse, before he looked up and scowled. Then he turned his temper on Trudy. “Did you bring her here?”
“No, but I wish I had, because then you’d owe me big.” Trudy set the packages on the desk.
“What’s that?”
“Christmas,” Summer said, adding her presents to pile.
“It’s only September,” he grumbled, sitting up.
“It’s not for this year’s Christmas,” she said as though the thought were just silly. “That’s not for three months. This is partly a preview for Christmases to come, and to make up for Christmases in the past.”
He looked at her with haunted eyes that tore at her heart. “The past is done.”
“Yes.” Nodding, she sat on the edge of his desk. “And you can’t live today for what happened yesterday. You take what you’ve learned and move on.”
“What have you learned?”
“That I like the beast over the prince.” She picked up one of the brightly colored packages and handed it to him.
He shook it.
“It won’t bite,” she said with a smile.
“What is it with you women and pink bows?” he mumbled, pulling the ribbon off. He opened the box and rooted through the tissue, pulling out the equipment.
“Night vision goggles,” she said.
“I see that.”
“For skulking in the night, when you shift to being a private investigator.”
Frowning, he set them aside.
She handed him another box, which he opened silently. He glanced up, his brow arched, as he pulled out scarlet lace.
“You bring out the color in me. I still have to be conservative at work, but you were right. It’s more honest letting some of the color come through.” She handed him another box. “I figure some of the color can be between us though.”
He opened the package much quicker, his eyes heating as he drew out the peacock green teddy. “This goes with your mask.”
She smiled brightly, hope filling her. “I knew you’d see that. Open this next, but don’t shake it and don’t flip it upside down.”
He opened the lid and peeked in. “Cake?” he asked with a frown.
“Different flavors for you to try.” At his blank look, she added, “So you can figure out which flavor you like.”
He set the box down and looked at the pile that rested. “You did this for me?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
“Because I wanted to.
Me
,” she emphasized. “No one told me to do this. You didn’t expect it. I’m doing it because I love you, and you deserve it.”
His gaze flew up. “What?”
“I love you.” She took his hand and knelt before him. “I was looking for a prince, and there you were, a hero. You’re courageous and chivalrous and kind.”
Jaw firm, he shook his head. “I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” She touched his face, making him look at her. “Though I admire those qualities, I love all of you, even the dark shadows because they make you who you are.
“
I love you
,” she repeated, squeezing his hand, hoping he could feel how much. “I couldn’t help myself. I want you to stay with me, here. I want to have children and make you go to my family gatherings and do disgustingly domestic things. I promise to always tell you the truth, and that I’ll always be your backup. I love you. Be my happily ever after.”
He lifted her from the floor and settled her on his lap. Holding her chin, he looked into her eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Do you love me?”
He nodded solemnly. “I do.”
She had to ask, so she swallowed her fear and said, “And your dream of moving to Thailand?”
“I have a new dream,” he said as he lowered his lips to hers to seal the vow.
From outside the office door, there was a shrill scream of triumph and Trudy’s voice yelling “And now we’re back in business!”
Shaking his head, Jon murmured against her mouth. “Unfortunately Trudy comes with the deal. I couldn’t get rid of her if I tried.”
“That’s what family’s like.” She rested her forehead to his, closing her eyes, savoring him. This was better than any birthday—he was better than any gift she’d ever been given. “Jon?”
“Yes?”
“Now will you tell me your real name?” She looked at him. “I have a vested interest to know.”
“Would you be disappointed it Smith really was my last name?”
She held him tighter. “Not as long as you share it with me.”
Epilogue
Her entire life was all a lie.
Viola stared into her closet, dismay filling her lungs, as she stared at the evidence. Because if even her wardrobe was such a lie, it’d meant she’d
really
bought into the illusion of her life with Charles.
It was a slap to the face. How could she have let all this happen?
She closed her eyes and tried to remember who she’d been before she’d met Charles.
That was the problem—she hadn’t been fully formed. At nineteen, she’d been such a child. She hadn’t thought so at the time, but perspective was different at thirty-six. She thought of her daughter deciding to get married, because fact of the matter was Chloe wasn’t that much younger than she’d been.
“Enough,” she told herself. It was time to figure out who she was aside from Chloe’s mother and Charles’s ex-wife. She opened her eyes and stared at her awful wardrobe. She’d just throw all this away and start fresh. Starting fresh was the theme this year.
She plucked a black dress from a hanger. This one would do fine. It may not be festive the way Gigi had requested, but it was nice.
“And it mostly fits,” she murmured as she zipped it up. The rest of her clothing sagged on her these days.
Without glancing at herself in the mirror, she slipped into shoes and went downstairs.
Chloe sat in the kitchen nook reading. The girl was always reading, which was fabulous, but sometimes it felt like her daughter read to get away from her.
And maybe that was okay, because the less like her Chloe was, the better. “You look lovely,” Viola said, even though her daughter looked like she was going to Dracula’s winter ball.
“Thank you,” she mumbled without looking up from her book.
Viola rolled her eyes. Teenagers.
The doorbell rang, and she sighed with relief. That had to be Rowdy. “Are you ready to leave, darling?”
“Yes. I’ll get it.” Chloe hopped up and hurried to answer the door.
Viola smiled. Chloe had a small crush on Rowdy, and Rowdy treated her daughter with great respect, a fact she was so grateful for. If Chloe found a man like Rowdy one day, Viola would consider herself a success as a mother.
Quite frankly, if Chloe decided to shave her head and live alone on an island, as long as she was happy and fulfilled, Viola wouldn’t mind. Picking up her purse, she went to join them.
Rowdy smiled at her as she approached. She did a double take, shocked to see him in a light gray tailored suit. Underneath, he wore a bright blue shirt without a tie and looked quite dapper.
Grinning, he spread his arms wide. “I clean up.”
“Very nicely, too.” She kissed his cheek. It really was a shame she didn’t find him attractive, but maybe she needed a friend more than a lover.
“Ladies.” Rowdy made a flourish toward his car, parked outside. “Your chariot awaits.”
Chloe giggled and followed him out. Viola locked the door, hopeful that the entire evening would continue to be as pleasant. At one time, having all the Summerhills in one place would have been just the opposite. These days, family was a blessed thing.
“Did Imogen tell you what’s going on tonight?” Rowdy asked as he stopped at a light.
She shook her head. “Gigi was very vague. She just said to be over to Merrick’s house by seven this evening and to dress festively.”
Rowdy glanced at her and then at Chloe in the backseat. “You two need to rethink your definition of ‘festive.’ You look like you’re on your way to a funeral.”
“We will be if you don’t watch where you’re going,” Chloe retorted, pointing to the windshield.
Vi smiled as he mumbled something about backseat drivers. He was right though—they were both in mourning for the death of their family.
Not tonight
. She bit her lip and looked out the window. Tonight she’d laugh with her sisters and their significant others and cherish the family she’d reclaimed when the one she’d built had fallen apart.
Rowdy parked the car, and they all walked up to Merrick’s front door together.
Bea opened the door for them. There was a smile on her lips but not in her eyes. “Hello, darling,” she said to Viola, kissing her cheek as she let them in.
“Is everything all right?” Vi asked. She was closest to Bea, in age and every other way. She knew without a doubt that not all was well.
“Fabulous.”
She frowned at her older sister’s clipped tone. “You sure?” she asked softly after Rowdy and Chloe went inside.
Bea put her arm around Vi’s waist. “It’s nothing a mallet over a certain someone’s head wouldn’t cure.”
She didn’t have to ask who that was. “Luca’s here?”
“Imogen was amazingly thorough in her guest list,” Bea said drily as they headed to the living room.
“Do you know why we’re here?”
“Not a clue.” Bea smiled ruefully. “Knowing Gigi, it’ll be something dramatic and grand.”
“It was never a surprise when she made it as an actress,” she said as they entered the living room.
Vi had visited Gigi in her new home once or twice. Merrick had owned it from his rock star days but they’d redecorated a bit in the past few months. However, not even that knowledge prepared her for the transformation in the living area.
She gasped, stopping in the doorway to take it in. “It’s romance and stars in here.”
Bea nodded. “The white pillar candles all over make for a nice touch, don’t they?”
“Do you know why it’s like this?”
“Gigi didn’t tell anyone, but everyone’s here. Except Mother,” Bea amended with a faint furrow of her brow. “She’s bringing her new beau.”
Vi faced her older sister. They’d been dying to meet Declan Maxwell. “Really?”
“Don’t worry. I have tools for castration in my purse, if need be.”
She patted her sister’s arm. “We can always count on you.”
Summer’s laughter across the room caught her attention. Vi turned to see her newest sister lit up with joy. Rosalind’s fiancé Nick and Summer’s new man Jon were speaking, but Summer only had eyes for him.
Vi’s heart melted, seeing the love in their sister’s eyes. Jon was enigmatic and mysterious, but how much he cherished her was evident in the way he ran a hand down her back, and so Vi knew he’d be worth the effort to get to know. He and Summer were going to his house in Thailand for a couple weeks—before Christmas, because Summer wanted to be back to celebrate the holidays with the family.