Wrapped Up for Christmas. Katlyn Duncan
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‘I told Maria we could stay in the guest room,’ Emilia offered.
Maria glared at her mother.
Angie mustered a smile to appease her family. ‘I’ll stay in the guest room while I’m home.’ She had no intention of staying longer than necessary and moving her nonni out of the room for a week or so didn’t make any sense.
‘See!’ Maria shrieked and pointed the spoon at Emilia. ‘I told you it was fine.’
Emilia grunted and sat at the table set for four.
Maria led Angie to the chair she had sat on since she was a kid, gesturing her to sit. ‘Tell us all about your trip. I’m almost finished with dinner. I made your favorite.’
Angie sat at the table, allowing the warmth of the house to envelop her into a tight hug. She was used to the wide-open space of her and Brett’s apartments. The house where she grew up felt smaller than it had the last time. But the laughter and happiness shining in her family’s eyes lulled her into a sense of security she hadn’t realized she had missed.
***
Angie could barely keep her eyes open during dinner, even though her brain was three hours behind. She guessed the exhaustion from moving her life across the country and breaking up with the man she had expected to marry had finally caught up with her. At least she would soar over the potential jet lag.
After saying goodnight to everyone, Angie headed upstairs to the guest room. She wearily carried her heavy feet down the long hallway toward the last door, lugging her suitcase behind her.
Angie had slept in smaller confines in college, so she didn’t mind the change in her plan. The moment she pushed open the door, it rebounded back, smacking against her arm. Pain zipped through her elbow and she frantically rubbed the spot to make the radiating ache stop.
Angie pushed the door open again, slower this time, and flicked the light switch. Against the back of the door, a folded-up treadmill blocked her way. She squeezed into the room, turning her suitcase to pull in behind her.
In the far corner was a table, covered with scrapbooking supplies, and on the floor were about twenty photo albums. Next to that were even more Christmas decoration boxes, which her mom usually stored in the attic. Angie guessed that she hadn’t dared to pack them away since her dad had died. The rickety pull-down ladder to the storage space always terrified her mother.
A headache formed behind Angie’s eyes and she rubbed the side of her temple, willing for it to go away. Adding physical pain to her mental anguish wasn’t going to help her get any sleep. She abandoned her other suitcases in the hallway, turned the light off, and flopped onto the bed. Moonlight poured into the room, throwing shadows across the walls.
It wasn’t long before a single tear slipped down her cheek. Even in her own home, she couldn’t help but feel cast off. Days ago, she was a successful event planner for one of the most prestigious hotel chains in the country with a sexy, wealthy boyfriend and a fantastic apartment. Now she was back at home, in the town she had always wanted to escape from.
Angie thought of the giant rock on Brett’s fiancée’s finger, and her skin prickled. Hot tears coursed down her face and she tightened her grip on the blanket around her as the memories of her relationship with Brett flooded her mind. He was the perfect boyfriend. When they were out together, he never seemed interested in other women. Though, they did keep their relationship a secret since he was her boss. Was that the appeal for him?
Angie wasn’t the type to throw herself pity parties, but her chest had felt empty from the moment she boarded the plane in California.
Gathering all the memories of Brett, she mashed them into an ugly ball and shoved them into the darkest reaches of her mind. Her breathing slowed as her eyes became heavy.
Angie was a list-maker, which was a big part of her job. If there was ever a time to make one, this was it. Her eyes squeezed shut as she worked out the next step of her plan. She was on the other side of the country, so she doubted she would see Brett again. Not that she ever wanted to. Before she left, she had demanded a glowing recommendation letter to help in her new job search. It was part of her request in the severance package.
Her job had been a coveted position at the company, and she knew the vultures would be there after the holidays picking up the pieces of her previous life. This was a tough time of year to search for another job. But, with the New Year on the horizon, there wasn’t a better time to start over.
First, she would update her resume and scour job openings in New York City and surrounding areas.
Angie never intended to stay on the East Coast, but it would have to do while she could get back on her feet. After bouncing back from this, she would leave again on a new adventure.
This was all temporary, and with a plan in mind, she snuggled under the covers with visions of job offers dancing in her head.
The pounding of Nick Bower’s feet against the ground and the tinkling of dog tags next to him created a monotonous sound in his head. It was the perfect rhythm to help him free his mind and think more clearly. The temperatures had dipped over the last week, and it was almost cold enough outside to decide against taking his morning run. But he couldn’t disappoint the most important girl in his life, Charlie. At least that was what he told himself. Running cleared his head and helped untangle any family or work issues and working with his father led to a lot of those. It also helped ease his guilt during his busiest season when he couldn’t be there for Charlie as much as he wanted.
After his second lap around the park, he headed home. Charlie trotted next to him, her tongue lolling to the side.
Nick had found the golden retriever at a dog rescue event three years ago during one of his solo runs. She’d howled for him, louder than the others in her litter, until he’d walked over. The moment he’d looked into those brown eyes, it was love at first sight.
The duo came to an abrupt stop at the front door to Nick’s apartment building, where the doorman, Frederick, stood between the outer and inner doors rubbing his gloved hands together.
‘Good morning,’ Nick said, pausing to stretch his hamstrings.
‘Getting a little cold out,’ Frederick said, blowing air into his fists.
‘Not for this girl,’ Nick said, scratching Charlie’s head. She pushed her nose into his hand, demanding more love. ‘She’s the only one who matters.’
‘Until you find a lucky woman.’ Frederick winked.
Nick smiled, tighter this time, and walked inside. Frederick wasn’t the only person in his life pushing for him to meet someone else. Heat clung to the sweat on his forehead. The uncomfortable change in his temperature wasn’t all from the exercise.
As he trudged over to the elevator, thoughts of his ex, Molly, filled his mind.
The doors opened, and he stepped inside, trying to shake her out of his head. The ‘lucky woman’ Frederick described was a myth. At least based on his most recent history. Charlie was non-negotiable in his life. Even with the sweetest dog on the planet,