ignored the holiday—apart from being surrounded by all that bright and shiny yuletide evidence at the store. Perhaps it was selfish of her, but she wanted to show him the joy of Christmas, prove that not all his Christmas memories were bad. She was convinced there must be happy remembrances, too, and she hoped to revive those so he could let go of the past. Holly held her breath as she waited for his response.
Jake stared into the distance for what seemed like a long time before he said, “Okay, I’ll come.”
Her breath whooshed out in relief and she gave him her brightest, happiest smile. “Thank you, Jake.” She finished putting on her coat, hoping he understood how much she appreciated his decision.
“Can we do this again?” he asked. “It’s been crazy in the toy department. Mrs. Miracle insisted I take my lunch break early—and she said I should invite you. I need to get back to work, but I wanted to see you.”
“I wanted to see you, too.”
They left the restaurant together and went their separate ways. Holly’s spirits were high. She’d cleared the air with Bill as much as possible, and Gabe had been excited to learn he’d be able to go to his friend’s house on Friday.
When she returned to work, she found her boss on the phone, talking in her usual emphatic manner. Despite the fact that Holly wouldn’t be receiving a Christmas bonus, she’d tried not to let that influence her job performance.
As soon as Lindy Lee saw her, she waved one arm to get her attention.
Holly stepped into her employer’s office. “You’re back late from lunch,” Lindy said as she slammed down the phone.
“I have an hour lunch,” Holly reminded her. She rarely took that long and often ate at her desk. Taking the full time allotted her was the exception rather than the rule.
“It’s one-fifteen,” Lindy Lee said pointedly, tapping her index finger against her wristwatch.
“And I left the office at twelve-thirty. Technically I still have fifteen minutes.” Holly could see that she might have said more than necessary and decided it would be best to stop while she was ahead. “Is there something you need me to do?” she asked.
Frowning, Lindy handed her a thick file folder. “I need you to get these sketches over to Design.”
“Right away.” She took the folder and hurried out of the office, catching the elevator to the sixth floor. As she entered the design department she caught sight of one of the models regularly hired by the company. Tiffani White was tall, slim and elegant and she possessed about as perfect a body as one could hope to have. She was a favorite of Lindy Lee’s and no wonder. The model showed Lindy’s creations to their peak potential.
Tiffani saw Holly and blinked, as if she had trouble placing her, which was odd. They’d spent a fair amount of time together, since Holly had been backstage at several runway events with her.
“Lindy Lee asked me to deliver these sketches,” she said to the head of the technical department. She turned to Tiffani.
“Hi, Tiff,” she said casually.
“Hi.” The model smiled—a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Holly smiled back, but there was something strange going on. Tiffani had always been friendly. They’d even had coffee together now and then. Once, nearly a year ago when she’d been dating Bill, they’d run into Tiffani and—
Just a minute!
Thoughts and memories collided inside Holly’s head. The conversation with Bill the night before played back in her mind. He’d made an unusual comment when they’d first spoken, mentioning the name Tiffany—or rather, Tiffani, with an i. The pieces were falling into place....
“Tiffani,” Holly said. “I talked to Bill the other night.”
“You did?”
“Yes, and your name came up.”
The model brought one beautifully manicured hand to her mouth. “It did? Then you know?”
“Well, not everything.”
“I wanted him to tell you before now, but Bill said it wasn’t really any of your business. I told him that sometimes we see each other at work and it would make things better for me if you knew.”
“So the two of you are...dating?”
“Actually we’re...talking about marriage.”
Marriage. Bill was planning to marry Tiffani? This didn’t make sense. The model was about the least motherly woman Holly had ever met; she’d even told Holly she didn’t like children. And she’d demonstrated it, too. They’d had a shoot earlier in the year with a couple of child models and Tiffani had been difficult and cranky all day. She’d made it clear