Cooped Up for Christmas - Sabrina York Page 0,32

friends who love and support you—not because you’re Farley, but because you’re you.”

Her brow wrinkled. “But I am Farley.”

“Farley the person. Not the superstar. Having an entourage is not the same as having a tribe. A tribe takes care of you because they love you. An entourage follows you because you’re famous.” I saw when the realization of what I was trying to convey hit her. She nodded and nibbled her lip.

“But what do I do about Jamison?”

I shrugged. “Be up front with him. Tell him how you feel. Let him know you love him.” Egads. I was starting to channel my great-aunt Gladys. “Maybe pull him aside tonight and go somewhere quiet and talk to him. Just talk. Ask him what he really wants. And if it’s Keiko, there’s nothing you can really say or do to stop it. And, if he really loves her more, and would be happy with her…would you stop it? If you really love him, you want him to be happy.”

“And he should want me to be happy.” She crossed her arms and put out a lip, making me think of her as she was. Young and afraid.

“Yes. Yes, he should. And if you ever fall in love with a man who doesn’t want you to be happy…run.”

It seemed as though she was listening, she was nodding and making I see kinds of noises, but then she took off on a completely different tangent. “And my parents.” She gusted. “Hah! They just laugh and say it’s puppy love. They say someone my age can’t possibly know it’s true love, but they don’t know.”

“I know.”

She looked up at me then, all young and fresh-faced and beautiful and in love. I remembered the feeling. I missed it.

“I fell in love with a boy when I was your age too, you know.”

“You did?”

I nodded. “Right here, in fact.” My smile wobbled.

“Did it work out for you?”

I had to tell her the truth. “No.”

“Why not?”

Why not? Good question. “I’m not sure. I was young. He was young. But now…” Now, we weren’t kids anymore.

“But now?” Farley prompted. How quickly her attention leap-frogged from her own melodrama to mine. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that last part out loud. “Well?”

I blew out a breath. Maybe I needed someone to talk to too. Someone who didn’t know me and really didn’t give a shit about me. “Okay. Well. It just so happens that the guy I met here, loved here—when I was your age—just walked back into my life. How do you like them apples?”

For some reason, she grinned.

I frowned at her.

“I think it’s amazing,” she said; her face welled with the glow of all that youthy stuff.

“How is it amazing?” Oh my God, it had been horrible seeing him again and… Well, maybe horrible wasn’t the word. Difficult? Yes. Challenging? Certainly. Exciting?

Probably that too, damn his hide.

“What’s amazing?” She made this thing I can only guess was known as the Farley Face. “Because you have another chance! It’s not too late! It’s never too late. That’s what I mean. Even when you’re super-old, there is still hope for love.”

“Wait. Did you just call me super-old?”

“Ah! It’s so romantic. Don’t you see? If Jamison and I can’t be together now…there’s always tomorrow. Oh, yes. Tomorrow.”

Frankly, I was surprised she didn’t burst into song just then, but she did leap from her chair, twirl around the hearth, and then dance from the room. She paused at the door, looked back at me, and cheerily called, “Thank you, Servant Lady,” before she disappeared.

I barely had time to stand before an ominous chuckle surrounded me. I whirled to find Coop standing there, in the shadows, leaning lazily on the other doorjamb. My heart did a swan dive into my stomach. Well, crap.

“That was a good story,” he said, reaching out a hand to help me up.

“Thank you.” I gave him a mock bow. “All part of the service.”

He ignored my blasé tone. “Was it true?”

“Was what true?” Hadn’t he learned by now that I never paid attention to things I said?

He stepped closer. Closer still. “Were you in love with me?”

My lungs froze. Shit. Had I said that? What had I been thinking? “I think you misheard.”

“No. I didn’t.” He tipped his head and surveyed me. “Were you in love with me? Because I was in love with you.”

“And Barbie. Don’t forget Barbie.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “I wish I could. Vic, this isn’t about Barbie. It never was.” Was he