Charlotte stood in front of the mirror and fastened her earring. She let out a nervous breath as she checked her reflection one more time. Still a solid fifteen pounds heavier than her pre-baby days, but the black dress was slimming, and besides, she was starting to like her new curves. Just like she was liking her new self.
“What do you think?” she asked Audrey, who was sitting on her play mat, stacking rubber blocks into a tower.
The little girl looked up at her with big green eyes and smiled until all four of her teeth were showing. “Titty!” she cried, and Charlotte almost choked on a breath.
“What did you just say?” she asked, aghast, but a little shiver ran down her arms.
“Titty!” Audrey cried again, pointing to Charlotte.
“You mean…” Charlotte blinked back the tears that threatened to ruin the very carefully applied makeup she didn’t have time to redo. Baby’s first word, and it wasn’t Daddy. Or Mommy. It was…Pretty.
She knew she risked getting drool on the silk if she squeezed Audrey too close, but she didn’t care. With a whoop of joy, she bent down and picked her baby up and twirled her around the room, stopping to stare at the pair of them in the mirror. “There we are,” she said, pointing to the reflection. “Mommy and Audrey.”
Enough. More than enough.
There was a knock at the door before the handle turned and Kate poked her head around, her blue eyes gleaming when she saw Charlotte. “Look at you. Greg won’t know what hit him.”
Charlotte shook her head as she set the baby back on the play mat. “No. Tonight isn’t about Greg. It’s about me. And Audrey.” About being the person she’d set out to be. “And pulling off one heck of a party.”
Kate tipped her head. “You sure you want me to bring all those toys to Goodwill?”
Charlotte looked at Audrey and reconsidered. “Maybe we’ll hold on to them. At least until tomorrow.”
Kate’s mouth pulled into a slow smile. “I’m glad you’re keeping an open mind.”
“An open mind is one thing. An open heart…” Charlotte smoothed her hair one more time, but it did little to curb the butterflies that were dancing in her stomach.
“Sometimes there’s more to the story,” Kate said quietly. “Sometimes you owe it to someone to hear them out. I know I wish I’d heard you out sooner.”
Charlotte nodded. Every word her sister was saying was true. She’d go to the party. She’d hear Greg out.
And then…She didn’t know. The future was full of uncertainty. Her gaze fell on Audrey, and she warmed at the sight. And life was full of possibility.
* * *
Greg straightened his tie in the mirror, catching the reflection of the wall clock behind him. His mother would be here any second, followed shortly by the first guests. The caterers had already arrived, and Kate had been downstairs, overseeing them. He wanted to ask about the gifts. About Charlotte. But it didn’t seem like the right place. Kate was working, and he respected that. It was professional.
Whereas everything with Charlotte…well, that was personal.
Disappointment settled heavily in his chest. He’d call her. After the party. Once he got through tonight.
The doorbell chimed, right on time, and Greg cursed under his breath. That would be his mother, and he had some explaining to do, and quickly. Would she go for his idea? Or really, would she think that Burke would go for it? Family values didn’t have to stem from the traditional makeup of a family, and why should it? Love came in all forms, and this was what would set Frost apart and bring them into the future. At least, he hoped so.
He took the stairs quickly, observing the scene on his descent to the foyer: the bustle of uniformed waitstaff weaving through tables, the clink of crystal glasses being polished for spots and lined up in perfectly straight rows. Even the air smelled fragrant, rich with pine and a hint of chocolate from the overflowing dessert buffet.
Rita had decided that as part of hosting the party at their family home, Greg should personally answer the door for each of his guests, and the staff dutifully ignored the peal of the bell. Greg hastened his pace, reaching for the handle, knowing how much his mother hated the cold.
But it wasn’t his mother standing on the doormat, staring back at him. It was Charlotte.
Her hair was swept back, and she wore just a touch more makeup than usual. Her lips, especially, were an inviting shade of red, but she didn’t smile.
He could have stared at her all night, but that wouldn’t do either of them any good. Was she here for the party? Or for him? “I’m happy to see you,” he said. He cleared his throat and stepped back so she could enter, suddenly realizing he wasn’t even sure she would.
She marched into the house without a glance in his direction and turned her head over the room, assessing the situation. “Good, it’s all come together on time,” she said, speaking to him in profile as she plucked a loose petal from the nearest table’s centerpiece.
“I was hoping we could talk,” Greg said, leaning closer to her. He could feel her posture stiffen. Deflated, he stepped back, giving her the space she so clearly craved. “Did you receive my gift?”
She whirled around to face him. He could see the hurt in her eyes. “Were you trying to buy the entire toy store, or were you just trying to buy my forgiveness? Or were you just trying to tempt me to continue with our arrangement?”
Her words stung. “Charlotte—”
But she held up a hand. “We made an agreement, and I’m a person of my word.”
“And I’m a man of mine. I care about you, Charlotte. And Audrey. I sent her those toys because I want her to have a magical Christmas. But if I’m being honest, I think she already will.”
Tears filled Charlotte’s eyes, but he wasn’t finished yet. “It’s true that I never thought I wanted children before. I didn’t think I could be a good father, since I never had one of my own.”
“And what’s changed?” Charlotte asked.
“You,” he said with a smile.
“What’s this?” a shrill voice cried out.
Greg whirled around to see his mother standing behind him, frowning in distraction as she looked around the room. She held up a Champagne flute, inspecting it closely, and demanded again, “What’s this? Doesn’t anyone around here know how to pick up a cloth?”
Greg held back as his mother looked around, her mouth a thin line as she assessed the setup for the event. “Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s better than I expected. Still, the night’s not over yet,” she added suggestively.
Charlotte gave his mother a tight smile and said, “I’m so happy you like the way everything looks. I can confirm that the event planner worked very hard to make sure it would be to your standard.”
Rita mewed at this, and Greg felt his temper stir. Charlotte had worked hard, in a short time frame, while taking care of a baby. She deserved some credit.
“Yes, I was just telling Charlotte that I’m thrilled with what she’s pulled together.”
Both women’s expressions fell with surprise, and Greg grinned, turning to his mother with an affable shrug. “Oh, didn’t I mention that, Mother? Charlotte here is an event planner. A local event planner.”
Charlotte’s cheeks flared, and for a moment Greg worried he had upset her, until he saw the light in her eyes when she glanced in his direction, however briefly.
“I hope the night will be all you want it to be,” Charlotte said to Rita warmly.
At a loss for words, Rita tutted something under her breath and then walked away, murmuring something inaudible. Greg watched as she wandered around in a haze of confusion, her brow pulled to a point, and then turned back to Charlotte. He blew out a breath and slid his hands into his pockets, holding her stare.
He had done one thing right, however small, and it felt good to be honest, and fair. It was a small gesture, not nearly as grand as the toy delivery, but it was all he had left. There was very little else he could give her. There was very little else she wanted from him.
“I hope that didn’t get you into trouble,” she said, giving him a sad smile.
“Nah,” Greg said, rolling back on his heels as he glanced in his mother’s general direction. “She’ll get over it. Besides, I have a new vision for the company, and one that makes this whole fake engagement thing unnecessary.”
Charlotte frowned. “Oh. Does that mean—”
He reached out and took her hand before she had a chance to back away. “Stay. Stay because you want to. As my real date.”
* * *
Charlotte’s heart was pounding as she wandered toward the kitchen. She had told herself that she could handle this, that she would come here and do her job, thank him for the gifts, and be on her merry way, check in hand. But one look into those chocolate-brown eyes had unnerved her, and she’d lost her resolve. Worse, she’d lost her will. To fight. To resist.
Could she really be wrong about him?
It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been wrong about a man.
She was still pondering this as she entered the kitchen, and she hesitated when she saw Rita standing near the window, sipping a glass of nearly finished wine.
Charlotte forced a bright smile as she began taking stock of the trays that lined the counters. “The guests should be arriving soon,” she said, hoping her tone sounded light and companionable.
“The food looks lovely,” Rita said, and Charlotte paused. That was unexpected.
“Thank you.”
“You know this was my parents’ house. I spent my summers here as a girl, and when Gregory was a boy. Holidays, too…” Rita smiled and looked out the back window onto the stretch of lawn and the lighthouse in the distance. “It’s not easy to come here anymore, though. It doesn’t feel quite the same. I’ve come to dread it, actually.”
Charlotte frowned and paused from her task. “You miss your parents. I’m sorry.”
Rita took another sip of her wine and lost herself in the window again. “Sometimes it’s easier to resist the things you love the most than to accept the fact that you can’t have them.” She turned, giving Charlotte a tight smile. “I haven’t been especially warm to you, my dear. I admit it’s not my strength. But hopefully we’ll have time for that soon, once my retirement is here. I buried myself in that company, to create some semblance of a stable life for us. It’s hard to let it go.”
Charlotte wondered if she should dare to say anything. “I hope tonight is a success for you. And Greg. I know how much the company means to him. And the promotion.”
“Oh, he’s worked hard. He’s earned it.” Rita smiled. “I have lived and breathed this company for thirty years.” She shrugged and set her wineglass on the table. “Letting it go won’t be easy, but knowing it will be in my son’s hands is a proud moment.”
Charlotte stared at her in confusion. “But—”
Rita arched a brow. “But what? Oh, that thing with Drew?” She brushed a hand through the air. “Greg has spent too much time alone. Sometimes men need a little push down the aisle. Greg never had a traditional family—I wanted that for him, something more than I had for myself. He’s obviously crazy about you, but a little extra incentive never hurt.” She gave a little smile. “Everyone has a different way of showing their love. I know I’m not the most traditional mother, but I do the best I can.”
Rita patted her arm and floated through the room, out into the party, where guests had started to arrive. Charlotte stood in the middle of the kitchen, reeling from Greg’s mother’s words, desperate to run and tell Greg, to ease the pain he carried with him, to tell him that he was loved much more than he knew. She wanted that for him, to know how much he was cared for, to know that none of this mattered in the end, not the party, not the Burke’s account, not the fake engagement.
She hesitated, realizing her emotions. She wanted Greg to be happy.
And she wanted herself to be happy. And wasn’t the last week the happiest she’d been in a long time?
She had to make a decision, had to trust her instinct to do the right thing. And this time she knew she wasn’t going to make the wrong choice.
Greg was standing near the tree in the front room, and Charlotte hurried to him, her stride long with purpose.
“I’ll stay as your date,” she said.
His eyes widened for a moment and then he grinned. “Good.”
“But I have one condition,” she said.
“What’s that?” he asked, frowning.
“Tell me what you would have done tonight if I hadn’t come. I want to know what you meant when you said that you had another way of showing them Frost is a family-focused company.”
Greg grinned and tipped his head to the back of the room, where a collage of photos had been set up, of Greg, of his mother, of his grandfather, who had started it all. And there, next to each photo, was an ornament, a Frost ornament, that captured a moment in time.
“I always thought these were just ornaments,” Greg said, picking up the one of the little boy looking at his grandfather. “But they’re memories. My grandfather made sure of that. And I will, too.” He patted his pocket. “That reminds me of something.”
Charlotte watched as he pulled out one small pink ornament.
“Baby’s first Christmas,” she gasped.
“I want you to have this. So you’ll always remember how Audrey’s first Christmas was spent. And I was hoping…maybe we could hang it on the tree?”
Charlotte brushed away the tears that had started to fall, and only then did she notice her sister, standing near the fireplace, overseeing the waitstaff, grinning from ear to ear.