Page 31 of Babies for the Christmas Grump

I squint at the first page, trying to make sense of the scrawled numbers and names. And then I see it.

A crinkled, yellowed letter, folded carefully and placed on top.

It’s addressed to someone namedVincent, and the handwriting is unmistakable: Aunt Evie’s.

I don’t know why, but I feel this strange twist in my stomach as I unfold it, reading the words slowly.

Vincent,

I know you’ll probably never read this, and I’ve been advised not to send it. But I can’t stop myself. The truth is, I no longer trust you. Things have gone too far, and the damage has been done. There’s no fixing it now.

I’m writing this because I need to make sure that someone knows what’s at stake here. The hotel is vulnerable. And Ryder… he doesn’t know it yet, but he’s the only one I trust to keep this place safe.

I’m sorry, Vincent. I thought we were friends, but I see now that I was wrong.

Evie

The breath is knocked out of me.

What the hell is this? What was Aunt Evie trying to protect? And why didn’t Ryder say anything about this?

He was supposed to be the one Evie trusted, but all this time, he’s been silent. He’s never mentioned Vincent, never even hinted at there being something more to the hotel’s struggles than just bad management or finances.

Why the secrecy?

I sit there, staring at the letter, the words sinking in. It doesn’t add up. There’s more here I don’t know.

Andhedoes.

I can feel the heat rising in my chest. What does Ryder know? And why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he mention anything about Vincent, or whatever this pattern was that Aunt Evie had been investigating?

I don’t have answers. Not yet. But I’m going to get them.

Without wasting another second, I scoop up the letter and the ledger pages, shoving them into my purse. Ryder needs to hear this. He’s the one Evie trusted to keep the hotel safe.

I head to his office with a growing sense of determination, fingers tight around the letter. I’m going to get answers.

There’s no immediate response when I knock, so I open the door.

Ryder is standing by the window, hands clasped behind his back, gaze locked outside. It’s as if he’s trying to escape the very room I’m standing in.

The tension in his posture is clear, and his thoughts seem a million miles out of reach. For a moment, I almost feel bad about interrupting him.

I step in. “Ryder?”

My voice cuts through the silence, and he slowly turns to face me. His expression is guarded.

I walk toward him, not giving him the chance to speak.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” I say, holding up the letter. “I found?—”

Ryder shakes his head. “I don’t have time for this right now, Sunny. I can’t listen to any more harebrained ideas.”

I take a step back.Harebrained ideas. I thought he was proud of the last event I threw.

My lips clamp together tightly. I don’t want to talk to him while he’s in this mood. My blood has run cold.

“Okay,” I finally snap, making a decision. “Forget it.”