Holiday with You - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,32
they hold no meaning. It’s just another day Mom and I eat a meal together. We don’t even do presents anymore. Why bother when we can eat dinner and exchange gifts any day of the week?
Even before Dad left, we never had this.
“Psycho” blares from my pocket. Why didn’t I turn off my phone?
It’s like Aurora has a bead on when I’m happy and is determined to destroy it.
“No phones on decoration day,” Clarissa scolds even as her own chimes with a text. She makes no move to check it.
“It’s my boss,” I lament. “Or maybe my ex-boss.”
I grip the phone, which goes blessedly silent before it immediately starts again.
“You can use the kitchen for some privacy, honey,” Mrs. Bradford offers. “Well, as much privacy as this family will allow.” She grins.
I hesitate as I slide to answer and slowly press the phone to my ear.
“Do you think this is a joke, Audrey?” Aurora’s nasty voice shatters my happiness in an instant.
I white-knuckle the phone and fantasize about all the ways I could destroy it so I never had to hear this witch’s voice again.
Do you want to get fired?
It doesn’t matter. I can’t afford it. Not with this repair bill.
“Are you listening to me?”
The Bradfords all look at me with concern. It’s impossible not to hear Aurora’s shouts. Perry worries her lower lip between her teeth, and guilt as I’ve never known swamps me. She shouldn’t have to deal with my stress. This is a happy day.
“I hear you loud and clear,” I say, directing all my anger for hurting Perry down the phone. “I will get you that contract when I find the owner. Until then, there’s no reason for you to continue wasting my time with these threatening calls.”
This time, I hang up on her.
Yep. I definitely must want to get fired.
Chapter Seventeen
Audrey
“Do you ever think about changing jobs?”
Elisse ices a cookie with precision.
I stir another batch of dough with more force than necessary.
“More and more often,” I say through my teeth.
“The boys told us what she wants,” Clarissa says, passing me the chocolate chips. “They also mentioned how determined you are to find the owner of the B&B.”
I’m beginning to care less and less about it. My curiosity spurs me on more than anything. And the fact my bank account will have nothing more than an echo in it if I don’t.
Elisse places a hand on my arm. “You need a plan B.”
A plan B? I’ve worked so hard to get where I am. I pursued a degree in hospitality management and didn't stop until I found the career I wanted. Branding and compliance excite me. It’s what I'm great at. The six years I’ve tolerated Aurora and her impossible ways because the day-to-day grind is fulfilling were worth it. At least it was until I crashed into Winter Valley.
It must be the snow. Or all these damn cookies. I haven’t eaten this many since I was a kid, and maybe not even then. My mother probably wouldn’t have let me.
“Um, Unicorn?” Clarissa points at the bowl in front of me. I’m no longer stirring the dough but stabbing it.
I drop the spatula. The wooden handle clangs against the side of the glass bowl. I brace my hands on the edge of the kitchen counter.
“All this stress isn’t good for you.”
Like Elisse is one to talk. She’s received so many text messages today that she finally turned off her phone. Clarissa has done the same. They work with bridezillas all day long, but they look . . . happy?
I’m sure if I saw myself in a mirror, I would not. Well, I would have a few hours ago because I’d forgotten about my job and been consumed by this family.
“Is it always like this here?” I ask quietly.
“Cold? And full of nosy neighbors?” Clarissa shrugs. “Pretty much.”
I snort. The cold isn’t so bad. And the nosy neighbors aren’t either.
“It’s impossible to do anything without Mrs. Pollard knowing,” Elisse chimes in. “Though I’ve never had my lover caught sneaking out of the B&B.”
Unlike me. Does everyone know about that?
“That’s because you’ve never slept with anyone there.” Clarissa gives her a pointed look. Elisse is smug, and her sister’s eyes round. “You have? Who?”
“The best man at the Franklin wedding two summers ago.”
Clarissa smacks her on the arm. “Shut. Up.” Then she smacks her again. “How could you not tell me?”
“I broke a rule. We don’t sleep with anyone in the wedding party. Or guests.”
Clarissa scowls as she