I blushed and waved my hand through the air.
“Enough with the buttering up,” I said. “And sit your butt down.”
Colton stripped out of his coat and hung it up, the dusting of snow falling onto the hardwood floor. Then he kicked off his boots and took off his gloves, plopping down into the chair as he did. I poured a big mug of steaming black coffee, setting it down in front of him, and he quickly wrapped his hands around it.
“Hey there, buddy,” he said, reaching over and tickling Lucas’s belly, causing him to let out a happy giggle. “Could’ve used your help out there—just because you’re only a foot tall doesn’t mean you can’t shovel some snow, you know.”
I laughed as I plated up the bacon and eggs.
“Hope you’re hungry,” I said. “Because I made a ton.”
“Works for me,” he said.
I placed a heaping plate of eggs and bacon in front of Colton, and he didn’t waste any time polishing it off.
“Damn,” I said as I picked it up and loaded it with more food. “You weren’t kidding.”
“Hey, you said to work up an appetite.”
“Got me there,” I said with a smile.
We ate our breakfast, chatting idly here and there, and after Colton helped me clean up, he threw on his coat and headed out for the store in Adeline. While he was gone I tidied up the place, preparing it for the day ahead.
A a couple of hours later, Colton was back.
“Ho, ho, ho!” he said as he came through the door, his arms loaded with bags. He set them down on the table, and I saw that they were loaded with all sorts of food and Christmas decorations.
“Yes,” he said. “Before you ask, the bags are full of Christmas cheer.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” I said with a smile.
He began unpacking them, and I saw that he’d bought so much stuff that it was almost comical. There were candles and holly and lights and ornaments in one bag, and in the other all kinds of delicious food.
“And the most important thing is still in the car,” he said. “Or, on it.”
“Oh, no,” I said, putting my hands on my hips.
“Oh, yes,” he said with a smile.
He stepped outside, and I hurried over to the front door. Sure enough, there was a massive fir tree on top of his car.
“Tree stand’s in the bag,” Colton called out as he hoisted the tree off the car.
I nodded and hurried over to the bag, grabbing onto the metal red stand and clearing a place for it in the living room.
Colton easily hoisted the massive tree into the house, and I helped him get the trunk properly placed. Once that was done, we twisted the screws, and it was up.
“Wow,” I said, stepping back and looking over the tree, which had to be around eight feet tall. “That’s a heck of a tree.”
“Hey, it’s Lucas’s first Christmas. He needs someone to show him how it’s done.”
Lucas giggled and clapped his hands at the sight of the tree, a big smile on his face.
“Okay,” said Colton, putting his hands on his hips. “You ready for Christmas?”
I nodded. “Let’s do it.”
The two of us went right to work.
Over the course of the next few hours, we lit candles to fill the house with holiday scents, put up tinsel and holly and mistletoe, and hung ornaments and lights on the tree. We listened to carols, singing along when we knew the words. And when we were all worn out, we threw on one of those corny old holiday movies and gathered around the fire for mugs of hot cocoa.
It was about as perfect a day as I could imagine. And the best part was we did it as a family.
When evening rolled around, I started making the food that Colton had brought: sweet potatoes, turkey and stuffing and a big apple pie with ice cream for dessert. Colton played with Lucas as I made the food, and every now and then I’d take a break to watch the two of them go at it. He was so good with the little baby that I was already wondering how I’d managed so far without him.
Soon, the smells of cooking food filled the house. I sat on the couch as the food baked, cuddling up with Colton and Lucas while we watched another movie and waited for the feast ahead.
When the food was done and the table set, the three of us gathered around and dug in. We both ate hungrily, making a serious dent in the turkey and having a few second helpings of the sides before big slices of pie and ice cream.
Stuffed full, we waddled over to the couch.
“Merry Christmas, Shayla,” said Colton, leaning over and giving me a soft, lingering kiss.
“Merry Christmas,” I said after our lips parted.
Then Colton snapped his fingers.
“Oh, shoot,” he said. “I got so wrapped up in everything that I didn’t get any presents.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “There’s always next year.”
Colton smiled. “And the year after that,” he said. “And the year after that.”
I glanced up, noticing that we were seated under one of the boughs of mistletoe.
“I think we both know what that means,” I said, pointing up.
He glanced up and smiled, pulling me closer once more.
“You bet I do.”
Chapter 30
Colton
It was only the next morning that Shayla and I remembered there was one matter still to be taken care of.
Richie.
“What do you want to do?” Shayla asked me, both of us seated at the kitchen table as we sipped our coffee and ate breakfast. “I mean, can we sue him or take him to court or anything like that?”
“I’ve got a killer legal team,” I said. “I’m sure they could figure out something. But…”
Shayla raised her eyebrows. “But?”
“But…I’ve never liked taking care of stuff like this through legal channels except as a last-ditch option. Maybe it was how I was raised, but I’ve always thought man-to-man was the better way to handle things.”
“Does that mean…” She trailed off.
“Yeah,” I said. “Before we do anything else, I’d like to talk to the bastard, see what he has to say in his defense.”
“What if he flips out?”
“You think he’s capable of something like that?” I asked.
“I don’t know, probably not. But people do crazy stuff when they’re backed into a corner.”
“That’s why we’re not going to do that,” I said. “Forcing him to go to court would be backing him into a corner. I’m going to give him a chance to explain himself like a man.”
“You don’t have to go,” I assured her. As eager as I was to get to the bottom of all this, I knew that Shayla might not be as ready for a confrontation. “You can stay with Lucas until I get it all taken care of.”
She shook her head, not even having a moment of hesitation.
“No,” she said. “This is my concern too. And I’m not about to let someone else fight my battles for me.”
I nodded in silent agreement; this was the answer I’d been hoping to hear.
“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” I said.
“Uh-oh,” she said. “I hope this is less scary than the last thing.”
“Depends on how you look at it,” I said with a smile. “Remember how I said my family likes to have big holiday celebrations?”
“I do remember that,” she said.
“Well, this year it’s my job. I’m going to be having the holiday party to end all parties at my penthouse tomorrow, and I want you and Lucas to be there.”
“That means I’m going to meet your family?” she asked, a trace of hesitation in her voice.
“It does,” I said. “But don’t worry—they don’t bite. And they’re going to be thrilled to meet this little guy. I told my parents about you two already; they’re coming home early from their trip to meet you both.”
He held out his finger to Lucas, who cooed and grabbed onto it.
Shayla took
a deep breath.
“I think I can handle it,” she said.
“And don’t worry about what you’ll wear or anything like that—I’ll get that all taken care of. All you’ll need to do is pick out what you like the best.”
“That I can definitely handle,” she said.
“Then it’s settled,” I said. “We’ll go back into the city tonight and get this Richie business sorted out. And then we can have some fun.”
“Deal,” she said.
When we were done with breakfast, I helped Shayla pack enough clothes and baby supplies to last a few days. We loaded up the car and were soon on our way, leaving behind the cozy little cabin.
After a couple of hours’ drive, the towers of Manhattan crested over the horizon. The traffic was manageable, considering the holiday, and we were soon back at my place to drop off Shayla’s things.
“You know his address?” I asked.
“Yep,” she said. “He lives in Carroll Gardens. I have his address on my phone.”
“Then let’s make a little unannounced visit.”
The three of us drove over to Carroll Gardens, which was a small, upscale neighborhood comprised of quiet streets and the three-story brick townhouses that Brooklyn was known for. We parked and got out when we reached his place, and I was ready to sort this matter out once and for all.
We stepped up to the front door, and I gave it a heavy knock. It opened moments later, revealing Richie.
His eyes went wide when he saw Shayla and me standing there, Lucas in Shayla’s arms. Seeing us all together made it clear right away what had happened. His eyes lingered on Lucas for several long seconds.
“Happy holidays, Richie,” I said. “Care to have a chat?”
“W-what are you guys doing here?” he asked, his voice wavering.
“I think you know why we’re here,” said Shayla, her voice fearless.
“I don’t have a single thing to say to either of you,” said Richie, his fingers gripping onto the door as if he was afraid of being blown away.
“Here’s the deal, Richie,” I said. “I ought to take you right to court and make you answer for what you’ve done. But I’m going to give you the chance to tell me, face-to-face, why you did what you did. If you’re not up to it, then I can get my lawyers to do the talking. And trust me, they’re real chatterboxes.”
Richie’s gaze shot down to the ground and silence hung in the air for several long moments. The gears in his head were turning, and I hoped for his sake that he’d make the right decision.
“Just…just as long as I have your word that you’re not going to cause any trouble,” he said.
“Richie, we’re not the mob,” said Shayla.
I held up my hand.
“We just want to talk,” I said.
Another beat of silence.
“Fine,” Richie muttered. He shut the door and undid the chain lock and then opened up. Without facing us, he walked into the house, gesturing limply for us to follow him.
The place was a nice, recently redone Brooklyn home. Judging by the place, Liminal must’ve been having a very good year.
Richie led us to the kitchen, a modern room of stainless steel appliances. He plopped down at the small table, a backyard with a covered pool visible through the glass sliding doors.
Once we were all seated, his eyes flicked back and forth between the two of us, as if he wasn’t sure what to do.
Lucas cooed, totally oblivious to the tension in the air.
“You really screwed us over, Richie,” Shayla began.
He pursed his lips, seeming to know that he had nothing to say in his defense.
“I had my reasons,” he said.
Shayla scoffed. “Then let’s hear them.”
I’d been ready to take the reins on this conversation, but Shayla was clearly ready to handle herself. She wasn’t a girl to mess with—just one of the many reasons I loved her.
“Shayla,” he said. “I remember the day you came into Liminal for your job interview. It was back when the place was just me and Mark and a couple of interns, only a few clients to keep us afloat. I knew within two minutes that you were the right girl for the job. You were passionate and talented and damn, could you design.”
Neither of us said anything as he said his piece. Richie’s eyes stayed locked on the table as he spoke, only briefly flicking up to meet ours.
“I could tell you were going places, but you lacked experience. So, when I made the decision to hire you, I also made the decision to show you the ropes. I wanted you to succeed in this business, and I had the years in it to help you do that. Then, as time went on, it became totally clear that you were all that I thought you were going to be, and more.”
I glanced over at Shayla, and I could tell instantly that she wasn’t having any of this. Her expression was tight and focused.
“And I guess, stupid me, I thought you were going to stay with me forever. So when I realized that you and Colton were beginning to develop a close professional relationship…I panicked. Then when he called me and asked about your logo, I knew it was my chance.”
“Your chance to lie,” Shayla cut in.
“My chance to make sure I could keep doing what I was doing to make sure you would succeed,” he protested.
“Oh, how noble of you,” Shayla scoffed. “This wasn’t about you getting what you wanted, it was about you wanting to make sure that little Shayla was taken care of.”
“I didn’t want you to end up as some cog in a huge machine,” Richie protested. “It was great being able to do some freelance work for them, but a place like that isn’t a place where you can shine.
“So, I did what I needed to do to make sure you stayed at Liminal. And I made sure to up your salary, knowing that you were becoming such a skilled designer that you were going to be catching the eye of more people than Colton.
“I did what I did for you, Shayla,” Richie said. “And I know it doesn’t seem that way now, but I had your best interests at heart. I can only hope that in time you understand.”
More silence.
Finally, after placing her hands over Lucas’s ears, Shayla spoke. What she said next cut through the air like a blade.
“Bullshit.”
Chapter 31
Colton
Richie’s eyes went wide.
“W-what?” he stammered, taken aback.
“I can’t believe this,” Shayla said. “You’re sitting here blowing all this smoke about how you did all this for me and how you had my best interests at heart and poor, poor Richie, no one understands how he suffers for his employees. I don’t believe it for a second.
“You did what you did out of selfishness, plain and simple,” she went on, jabbing an accusing finger at Richie. “You hired me when I was just starting out, and I appreciate it. But as soon as you saw that I was going to be moving up, you spun this web of lies, trying to ruin the relationship I had with Colton, all so you could keep me at Liminal.”
“No!” he said. “It wasn’t only because of that.”
He turned his eyes to mine. “I knew that this arrogant…upstart wouldn’t treat you right. No man like him can look after his employees the way I can. And it only makes sense that he’d use his professional leverage over you to seduce you.”
I’d done my best to leave them to it, but now I had to speak up.
“You’d better be very, very careful about what you say next,” I said, my voice low and grave.
He pursed his lips, taking my suggestion to heart.
“I…I’d started to think of you as my right-hand woman,” he said. “You were becoming as much of the heart of Liminal as I was, and I wasn’t ready to throw that all away. I’d be an idiot to not try to do something to keep you on board.”
“You could’ve,” said Shayla, nodding. “You could’ve done the right thing and made your case. Put all this on the table like you’re doing now.”
“And would it have worked?” he asked. “Would you
have turned Colton down?”
“No,” Shayla said, not a trace of doubt or hesitancy to her voice. “I would’ve made the same decision. But you have to understand that there’s only so much you can do. Instead, you lied. And it’s only because Colton was bold enough to come find me that we’re even together now. If he hadn’t…” She trailed off.
“We have a kid, Richie,” I said, gesturing to Lucas, who was still happily cooing in Shayla’s lap. “And I missed out on his birth, the first few months of his life because of the lies you told, and there’s nothing Shayla and I can do to get that time back. I could take you to court for all you’re worth.”
Shayla picked it back up.
“I thought I was going to raise this boy all on my own, that he was going to grow up without a father. And if you’d had your way, he would’ve. Here you are, making it sound like you’re some suffering mentor trying to do the right thing, still trying to get sympathy. It’s disgusting.” She bit her lip, apparently to stop from saying anything else.
“I’m not lying about how important you were to me,” said Richie. “I knew the company wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Shayla took in a slow breath through her nose, shaking her head as she did.
“Whatever,” she said. “It’s done. Like Colton said, you took that away from us, and there’s nothing to be done about it.”
Then she leaned forward. “But there’s still the issue of the fraud you pulled. You sold my design to Colton under false pretenses. And I’d bet anything his lawyers would have a damn field day with that.”
Richie’s expression, on a dime, turned from something pitiable to one of frantic concern.
“No!” he said, his eyes wide. “Please! I know what I did was wrong, and I’ll do whatever I can to make it right. But don’t take me to court over this—you’ll ruin me!”
He shot out of his chair and dashed over to his briefcase on the kitchen counter. Then he pulled out a small brown folder and a pen before hurrying back to the table. It was a checkbook, and I watched as he quickly filled out the lines in one of the checks. Once done, he ripped the check out so hard that I thought he might tear it in half.
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