Page 121 of Babies for the Christmas Grump

Or at least, I’m about as ready as I can be. With Marjorie by my side, and Pearl’s old dresses as my armor, I might pull this off.

I’m not just going to survive this night. I’m going to own it.

CHAPTER FORTY

Ryder

December 24th

I tryto focus on the guests, the grand ballroom, and the musicians playing in the corner, but I can’t.

I’m distracted.

It’s her. Always her.

I’ve spent the last couple of days trying to keep my head in the game, keeping my distance, convincing myself that I don’t need to fix what’s been broken between us just yet.

But when I see her standing there, greeting guests, her smile too wide, her laughter a little too forced, it all falls apart.

She looks stunning.

It’s not just the dress, though I’ll admit it’s damn near impossible not to appreciate the way it hugs every curve, the way the soft blue fabric almost seems to glow against her skin.

It’s everything. It’s the way she’s holding herself tonight, carrying the weight of the world and still trying to make it look easy.

She’s flawless, and it’s all I can do not to walk across the room, to pull her aside, to ask her why she’s acting fine when I know she’s falling apart inside. I can see it.

I hate myself for not being the one to help her.

I’ve been avoiding her, too. I’m good at that. Good at keeping my distance, convincing myself that I don’t deserve to be close to her.

After everything that happened, I don’t know how to look her in the eye without lying to her. She deserves better than me, better than the mess I’ve become. And I don’t know if I can be what she needs.

But watching her stand there, talking to the guests happily, her eyes glinting with that same fire I’ve come to admire, makes me feel shitty. She’s hiding behind that smile, and I’m standing here watching it all unfold.

She’s trying to do everything for the hotel, for this place we both care about. But what about her? What about us?

I shake my head, trying to focus on something other than her. The gala is in full swing now, guests laughing and mingling, the clinking of glasses filling the air.

I force myself to smile as I exchange pleasantries with a couple of hotel investors. The words feel like they’re coming from someone else, as though I’m playing a part in a scene I didn’t sign up for.

Tonight isn’t about me and Sunny. Tonight is about the hotel.

It has to be. I can’t let it all slip away because I’m too busy feeling sorry for myself.

But that’s easier said than done.

I catch her glance across the room. Her eyes meet mine for a brief second, but there’s nothing in her gaze.

No warmth. No softness. Just that same mask she’s been wearing for the past couple of days. And it kills me.

I force myself to look away, but my eyes keep wandering back to her. I swallow, trying to push the guilt away, but then I hear it.

A ruckus on the dance floor.

I glance over, and there’s Pearl, of course, twirling as the star of the show. She’s somehow managing to dominate the entire room with her presence, drawing attention from every direction. The woman is a force of nature, and tonight she’s giving it her all.

I can’t help but smile. For all the craziness she causes, Pearl’s precisely what this place needs.