“I see you have ‘Executive Director of North Star’ on this list,” he remarked.
She nodded. “But I only want it if I can figure out where that missing money went and recoup our losses in time to deliver the Christmas Bonus Fund in just a few days, as promised.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I do have to. I need to do it for myself.”
He dropped a kiss on her hair. “Fair enough. Let’s hope the bank will have the answers we’re looking for. But as to the executive director position, you’ve put it at number four.” He paused briefly, and his finger tapped another item on the list. “As to number two, I can understand why you would wish for such a thing. I have a family and I love them more than anything. I just didn’t realize you might not have one of your own,” he said softly. “But for number three, I have to admit that I’m curious—why is ‘a Christmas tree’ ranked higher than the job at North Star?”
He said it lightly, but his eyes were soft and understanding. Nestled in his arms, enveloped by the very thing she wanted the most in the world, she felt her confidence soar to impossible heights.
She could share her pain, and then she could move past it. She could tell him about her past, her fears, and why it had taken so long for her to learn to ask for what she wanted. And then she would have the power to reach for dreams and magic.
She took a deep breath. “When I was nine years old,” she began, “my parents and I were driving home from a party on Christmas Eve…”
Chapter Ten
Meredith wrapped her hands around her coffee mug and sighed in contentment. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she woke up half an hour ago and tiptoed out of the bedroom, not wanting to disturb Andrew, who was still sleeping in her bed. Last night had been incredible. They had nestled together on the couch and talked into the wee hours of the morning, and then he had taken her back to bed, where she’d had the courage to tell him what she wanted and he’d more than made up for his earlier “failure.” Twice.
She pulled her laptop across the table where she was sitting and logged on to her corporate e-mail, figuring she could at least get some work done as she waited for Andrew to wake up. But when she clicked into her inbox, her jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
“Three hundred new messages?” The number of unread e-mails, all since yesterday evening, was staggering. Usually, if she received thirty in that period of time, she considered it inbox overload. But as she scrolled through the list, she could see that nearly all of them were from the bank that Harbor used for corporate accounts and investments. Her heart sped up with a combination of trepidation and excitement. This must be about the missing money from the Christmas Bonus Fund.
She located the first one—from their corporate account manager—and read through the message, finishing on a sigh.
“Okay, Klaus. This is where you prove that you’ve got what it takes,” she muttered, pouring herself another cup of coffee and settling deeper into the chair to sift through three hundred transaction statements.
***
By the time Andrew opened his eyes, the sun was high overhead.
“Meredith?” He turned and reached his arm across the bed, but she wasn’t there. Lifting his head, he looked around the quiet room, sweeping his gaze over the antique-looking bureau against the far wall. No knickknacks sat on top of the polished wood. No photos of fun vacations or memorable events.
I’m going to change that. Working with her every day, admiring her competence and her drive and, in the past couple of days, watching her grow even more capable and feeling so damned proud, had helped him to realize how much he cared about her. He wanted to make those moments with her.
He continued his study of the room. It was oddly devoid of clutter. Even his clothes had been neatly folded atop the cherry-print upholstered seat of the armchair in the corner. And yet—there were patterns and colors everywhere. On the white sheets with red pinstriping, the bright-yellow drapes with flowers and vines embroidered all over them.
As though she’d described herself through the vibrancy that surrounded her while still managing to leave no trace of actual living. She’d cut herself out of her own life.
I’m going to change that, too. It’s what he wanted.