Page 8 of Twelve Days of Christmas (Sixty Five Hours #1.5)

ON THE EIGHTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS…

Tobias pokes his head in my office door. “Luc,” he says with a smile. “Can I see you for a second?”

“Sure,” I answer. It could be one of a million and one reasons why he wants to see me, but I’m suddenly really, really nervous.

I sit in one of the chairs at Tobias’ desk, facing him and the big gold Fletcher arrow that graces the wall behind him.

He glances around nervously. “Cameron’s not here, is he?”

“No,” I reply dubiously. “He’s at Crawford’s, going over last minute details.”

His father smiles. “Good. This came today.” He pulls out a large, white envelope from his top drawer, and my heart beats double-time.

I don’t have to ask. I know what it is.

“Is it all there?” I ask. My mouth is suddenly dry.

He nods, grinning. “Did you want to take a look?”

I shake my head, because I don’t. Then I nod, because I do. But then I shake my head because I don’t. “No.”

Tobias laughs. “I’ll hold it for safe keeping, shall I?”

I nod and try a couple of times to swallow.

Ignoring my obvious nervousness, he asks, “What gift are you up to today?”

He knows what I’m doing. He knows everything.

“Um, the leather passport holder,” I tell him. “I gave it to him this morning.”

I had a leather case etched with the initials CAF; his initials. Not extravagant, though still somewhat pricey – but cheap by comparison to the other gifts but equally as beautiful.

Tobias smiles. Then he asks, “Do you think he suspects anything?”

I shake my head. “Not a clue.”