Page 11 of Christmas Treasures (Sugarville Grove #6)

CHARLIE

C harlie woke to a dull ache behind her eyes and the gentle weight of Fig stretched across her chest like a smug, oversize paperweight.

She turned over, groaning, which made her fat cat grumpy.

Fig gave her a malevolent look before jumping off the bed, making his usual loud thump when he hit the floor.

She lay there for a moment, replaying the events from the night before.

She never drank that much, and this was exactly why.

Her inhibitions had been loosened for one night, and she was kissing the town hunk in her greenhouse.

That kiss. It had curled her toes. Made her lightheaded and weak-kneed. All the things one felt right before making a disastrous mistake and falling for the wrong person. She would forget it ever happened. Get on with things before she got hurt.

Only she couldn’t forget.

Fig, apparently no longer annoyed, returned to the bed, landing on her toes, then sauntering toward her before rolling onto his back with his legs up in the air .

She scratched behind Fig’s ears, sighing when he purred like a small engine. “You’re judging me.”

Fig lifted one heavy paw and placed it squarely on her face.

“Okay, fine,” she mumbled through fur. “I kissed him. Or he kissed me. There was mutual kissing.”

Fig squinted, unimpressed.

“I know what you’re going to say. It was late. There was wine. I tripped. It’s a classic rom-com setup. But Figgy, I really like him. I feel like myself when I’m with him. Maybe my better self.”

Fig yawned.

“Fine. You win. Let’s go eat.” She pushed Fig aside gently and sat up, her head pounding slightly as she padded into the kitchen. She filled the kettle and reached for her tea tin, trying to pretend her pulse wasn’t doing weird things every time she thought about Max’s mouth.

Or his words.

Or the feel of his chest and shoulders.

Even though my life’s about to change, I’m interested in you. And not for your money.

No one had ever said anything like that to her before. And it was terrifying.

She poured the water over a bag of mint tea and leaned against the counter.

“This is exactly what I don’t do,” she told Fig, who had now relocated to the kitchen table and was licking one paw with disdainful precision. “I don’t get involved. I don’t swoon. And I definitely don’t fall for charming men with fantastic smiles and good wine instincts.”

Her phone buzzed.

She stared at it for a second longer than she should have, then reached for it .

It was from Max.

Hey. Not sure how you’re feeling this morning.

If it’s hungover and ashamed, then no worries.

I understand. But if it’s a mild headache and you’re curious to know me better, I’d love to see you.

I need help with Bianca’s room. I could ask Abby or my mom, but I’d really like your input.

I want her to feel safe and welcomed when she gets here.

Charlie’s breath caught.

Fig meowed, as if he already knew what she was going to do.

She looked down at her phone, then back at her cat. “Oh, Figgy, I’m in trouble.”

He flopped onto his back, paws in the air.

She typed, paused, erased.

Typed again.

Of course. I’d love to help. Let’s go see Ivy. She’ll know just what to do.

Charlie stared at her own response for a moment, already feeling a strange flutter in her chest. What was she doing? Fig jumped down from the table and wound between her ankles, as if to remind her this wasn't part of her carefully constructed plan.

Great idea. I’ll find out more about what Bianca likes from Camilla. How is 10?

She replied back right away.

10 is perfect.

She set her phone down and finished her tea in one long gulp.

"It's just decorating a room," she said to Fig, who had settled on the windowsill, watching birds flit around the feeder outside. "People do this all the time. Friends help friends."

Fig's tail twitched in obvious disagreement .

She sat at the kitchen island, hands trembling. Her fingers curled tighter around the ceramic mug in her hand, knuckles going white. Max was too charming. Too likable. Just like the man who had humiliated her.

A man who said he was interested in her too.

Evan.

But he was actually interested in her money, not her. She’d confirmed this when she’d opened an email not meant for her. A reply, accidentally forwarded to her from Evan’s laptop while they were in Lake Tahoe for a long weekend.

It had no subject line.

Just a message thread with a woman named K.

Evan: Won’t be long now. She’s completely oblivious. The money’s basically ours. California is a 50-50 state, baby! I think 50 million will do nicely, don’t you?

Planning to propose next month—already dropped a few hints. I’m betting she won’t ask for a prenup. Honestly, I don’t even think she’ll think of it. She’s brilliant, yeah, but she’s totally on the spectrum. The kind of person who doesn’t know when she’s being used.

I’ve got her right where I want her. By the way, I swiped a diamond bracelet to tide us over until I can get a ring on it.

Charlie remembered staring at the screen for what felt like hours. The nausea, the ice in her spine, the sound of Evan’s voice in the next room, humming as he unpacked takeout.

He’d come into the kitchen, kissed her forehead, and told her he’d ordered the sushi she liked.

She’d smiled.

Then excused herself.

And called the police.

What was this itch she felt? This need to reach out to a girlfriend and talk about what had happened last night? She’d so rarely felt this way in her life that she hardly knew what to think.

Nina. She wanted to talk to Nina. She picked up her phone, her finger hovering over Nina’s contact photo—bright-eyed, mid-laugh, holding a flour-dusted pizza peel like a sword. She almost chickened out and texted instead.

But something inside her said: Be brave.

People were not supposed to live in isolation.

She’d pushed everyone away for too long.

She’d had fun last night. Let loose a little.

People at the party were nice, and they seemed to genuinely like her.

Nina, in particular, had made so many overtures of friendship over the last year.

Charlie had politely declined, keeping it friendly but never taking it outside of work.

But she could use a friend. A real one who would listen and know what to advise.

A woman like Nina who seemed so normal compared to Charlie.

She went out on dates and had a social life outside of work.

Charlie hit Call.

“Hey, Charlie. What’s up?” Nina’s voice came through, cheerful and warm as always. “Are you as hungover as me?”

“I don’t feel my best ever.” Charlie took a breath. “Hey, are you free? I was wondering if you might want to come by for coffee. I have scones in the freezer I could warm up.”

Not even a beat of hesitation. “I’ll need a bit to get myself together. I’m still in my pajamas, but I can be there within the hour.”

It was enough impetus to get Charlie into the shower. Strangely enough, “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” was playing in her head. She’d heard it last night at the party.

By the time Nina arrived, Charlie had showered and blown out her hair, even managed to put on makeup as though it was an ordinary day. But something inside her told her everything had changed.

They sat together in the kitchen, with matching mugs and Fig snoring softly by the heat duct. Charlie had turned on a jazz station in the background while she was waiting, and it played softly through her built-in speakers.

“I have to say, I never thought I’d be invited over,” Nina said. “Your house is beautiful.”

“Thanks.” She added a spoonful of sugar to her coffee. “I’m sorry I haven’t had you over. It’s hard for me to put myself out there.”

“That’s pretty obvious.”

Charlie laughed once, low and tight. “It’s not that I don’t want to connect, I just don’t know how.

” She took another sip of her coffee, then stared down at the mug in her hand.

“I’ve never shared with you why I left San Francisco.

I’m sure you figured out by now that I sold a company for a lot of money. ”

Nina tried her best to look surprised, but it was no use. “Yes, I Googled you the minute we met.”

“It sounds great on paper, but the truth is—they pushed me out after the transaction was final. The company who bought us didn’t need me any longer. They said I’d taken the company as far as I could and that now it was time for a real CEO to run the company.”

“As if you hadn’t built it from scratch?”

“That’s right. I was crushed. And my ego was bruised pretty badly too.

To make things worse, I’d been dating a man I really liked and thought I had a future with.

I consoled myself about my work by jumping into a relationship.

I was already imagining the life we might have together.

A normal life, with kids and a house in the suburbs. ”

“What happened? ”

“He turned out to be…a liar. A professional one.”

“I’m scared to know what happened next,” Nina said.

“Yeah, it’s bad.” Charlie drew in a slow breath.

“His name was Evan. I met him at a cocktail function before the sale of ForkCast. The company who bought us was still trying to woo me at that point, and they hosted this elaborate dinner, with drinks afterward. He introduced himself as a financial investor—angel funding and that kind of thing. Which is not unusual in Silicon Valley, so I had no reason to doubt his story. He was nice-looking and charming. Even I found him easy to talk to. But I was not in a great place. Burned out. Isolated. And he brought some excitement and playfulness into my life. I’d worked more than a decade without a break, solely focused on building my company.

I’d just lost my dad. I had no one I could trust. So you can imagine how easy I was to play. ”

Nina’s hands curled around her mug. “Oh, Charlie.”