Holiday Hideout

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  At first, she’d thought he had a calling to help the world, but over time, she’d realized that he simply wanted to be where the action was. It hadn’t been an easy realization to stomach, and it had triggered their breakup.

  She shook her head, dispelling the thoughts. Now really wasn’t the time. “I hardly have a say on who’s assigned to the case.”

  “Sure you do. That’s what the lead associate does, right? And second chair puts you in the hot seat.”

  He was right, but she knew right then she wasn’t going to assign him to the case—not when his motive was something other than the work. But, again, she wasn’t going to get into it now. “I’m not even thinking about it until next year. Leon said to chill, rest and relax until we return after the holidays, and I intend to take his advice.”

  “You’re off to Seattle tonight?” he asked.

  “Four days with Mom, then I’m back here.”

  “And we’re on for Jameson’s New Year’s Eve party?” he asked, referring to the big bash the senior partner threw every year. He stepped close to her when he said it, and pulled her into a lazy dance move.

  She laughed as he dipped her. “We’re on,” she said. For one brief moment when the party was announced, she’d considered not going. She was five years out of college now—and that meant that this was the year that she and Josh had planned to meet in Tahoe.

  But she hadn’t heard a word from Josh in almost a year—not an email, not a letter, nothing. And she could hardly fly to Tahoe to see an old college boyfriend when she’d promised Perry he had dibs on her for New Year’s. As friends only, of course. And though she was certain that Perry hoped to make it more, she’d made her position perfectly clear. A true politician, Perry swore he’d change her mind.

  “Good,” Perry said, still holding her. “Because Jameson mentioned that Senator Ellis is going to be there. I want to make a good impression with the most gorgeous woman I know on my arm.”

  It was a genuine compliment, and he meant it, but something about the way he said it—as if her looks were a check mark on his political scorecard—irritated her. Another reminder of why they didn’t click.

  She eased out of his arms. “I better get home. I still have to pack.”

  “Have a good Christmas,” he said. “I can’t wait for New Year’s Eve.”

  “I’m looking forward to it, too,” she said. But when she slipped out of the office, it wasn’t Perry she was thinking of, it was Josh.

  Her dreams were starting to come true. And she hoped with all her heart that his were, as well.

  “I DON’T KNOW WHAT you’re upset about, Josh,” Marion Goodson said as she carried a stack of dishes from the dining table to the kitchen. “She’s a perfectly lovely girl.”

  “She seems very nice,” Josh said, reminding himself that he shouldn’t raise his voice to his mother, that she only wanted what was best for him, and that the fact that she had pretty much just sent his entire Christmas weekend spiraling down into an uncomfortable, awkward mire was no reason to disown his family. “But I’m not interested in her, Ma.”

  “But why not? She’s smart, she’s pretty. You think she’s pretty, right?”

  He glanced out the dining room window to where the woman in question—their new neighbor, Selina Perez—was sipping coffee with his aunt. “Sure. She’s pretty. But I’m not interested in being fixed up by my mother. Especially not at Christmas. I thought I was going to relax. Spend some time with you and the rest of the family.”

  “And that’s what you’re doing.” She came over and gave him a hug. “Don’t you think Selina fits into the family? And if you settle down—get married, have kids—maybe you won’t keep pushing this nonsense about expanding the company.”

  “Mom, we’ve been over this. Expansion is good.”

  “Not if it takes you away from where you’re needed. You’re the lifeblood of this company, sweetheart, and you know it. Besides, with your father gone, I want you here.”

  She took his hand, and he melted just a little bit. She could be a pain, all right. But she was still his mother.

  But that didn’t mean she had carte blanche over his personal life, and a wife and kids wasn’t the kind of expansion he wanted right now.

  Except, of course, that wasn’t true. He didn’t want that with Selina. But if Marion had invited Cleo to dinner…

  But better not to go there. Those days were long past, and he was no longer the wide-eyed kid fresh out of college. Besides, he’d seen Cleo’s picture on her Facebook page, and she looked more than happy on the arm of some other attorney named Perry. He winced. Perry. He’d lost the woman he’d loved to a guy named Perry.

  “I just think you need to start considering these things. Who’ll keep the company going after you’re gone? You need a wife. Children.”

  “Mom.”

  She looked at him, all smiles and innocence. He sighed, then gestured toward the back door. Everyone was gathered on the sunporch, the kids playing in the yard. “You go,” he said. “I’ll clear the dishes.”

  “Oh, no—”

  “My Christmas gift to you.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You work too hard, Ma.”

  She squeezed his hand and called him a good boy and took her coffee out the back door. Josh smiled. He may not have learned a lot in his twenty-seven years, but at least he’d learned how to work his mother.

  He was loading the dishwasher the way she liked it—rear to front—when Selina came in. “I told them I was going to warm up my coffee.”

  He nodded toward the carafe. “Help yourself.”

  “Right.” She filled her cup. “Look, I don’t really want coffee. I came in to apologize.”

  He looked up from the dishes he’d been stacking. “For?”

  “I swear I had no idea this was a setup, and if I had, I never would have—I mean, I live next door. Slightly awkward, right?”

  “Just slightly.” He grabbed a towel and dried his hands, then poured a cup for himself. “Sorry about my mom. They don’t warn you that women have biological grandchildren clocks and my lack of dating has been a source of frustration for her. I’ve been focusing on the company. She’s concerned about grandkids.”

  “Moms can be like that. But she’s proud of what you’ve done with the business. She’s said as much to me at least a dozen times.”

  “Thanks,” he said, and meant it. He leaned against the counter and took a sip of coffee. “There’s a lot more I could do with it.” He waved a hand, as if he could wipe the conversation out of the air. He did have big plans for the company, but it wasn’t entirely his decision. The board had to approve any plans for expansion, and his mother and relatives made up the board. He understood their fears about weakening the fundamental structure of the business, but at the same time he was certain that it wasn’t fear that was keeping his mother from endorsing his expansion plans—it was love. She knew that if the company grew, that would mean a branch office and he would spend more time away. And Marion Goodson wasn’t happy with distance or change. She’d been bedridden for a month after Josh’s dad passed away, and Cleo’s departure on top of that had just about wiped her out.

  “The truth is, I think she expected that the house would be full of grandkids by now,” he said.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I had a girlfriend, and Mom saw how good we were together.”

  Selina’s head cocked to the side. “What happened? Bad breakup?”

  “No,” he said, because as much as it had hurt, it hadn’t been bad. “Just…life.”

  “She left you for someone else?”

  “I think she’s dating someone else now, but no. She left me for law school.”

  Selina’s brows rose. “And so it’s over? Law school doesn’t last forever. Now, my breakup…” She trailed off with a shudder. “We were engaged, I caught him in bed with a skank from his office and that was the end of that.”

  “Prick.”

  She laughed. “You’re b
eing too kind to him, but yeah. Honestly, I’m glad it happened before we got married. But it’s still hard around the holidays. No date for New Year’s Eve and all that. But you—why can’t you start it up again?”

  Why not, indeed? “New Year’s Eve,” he whispered, not realizing he was speaking aloud. Was it possible that Cleo…

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Selina said. “I didn’t mean that at all. Really.”

  Josh frowned, confused. “Mean what?”

  “I saw your face. I promise I wasn’t hitting you up for a date.”

  He hurried to correct her. “No, no. I wasn’t thinking you had. It’s just…I wonder if I already have one.” He slipped his hand into his pocket. It wasn’t there, of course. For years he’d kept the pocket watch with him always. A beautiful gold antique that Cleo had given him for his twentieth birthday. She’d had it inscribed with the word Forever.

  For months after she left, he’d carried it in his pocket, and he could still imagine the way it felt in his hands, the cool metal, the raised design. He’d forced himself to quit carrying it three years ago. Josh might be sentimental about some things, especially Cleo, but he wasn’t stupid.

  “How can you not be sure you have one?”

  He considered blowing off the question. He didn’t really know Selina, and it was a ridiculous thought, anyway. Of course Cleo wasn’t going to show. She was in Washington now, and that was almost two thousand miles from Tahoe. And while there’d once been a time when he hadn’t believed it would be possible, she was now a hell of a lot further than two thousand miles from Josh. She was a lifetime away, and then some.

  But Selina was looking at him with genuine interest, and so he told her about the deal he and Cleo had made to reunite in five years. And instead of saying he was an idiot to even still entertain the memory of that promise, much less hold out any hope that Cleo would actually show, she plunked her coffee down on the counter, grabbed his hands and said, “You have to go.”

  “She’s dating a guy named Perry.”

  “Do you want her back?”

  “More than anything,” he said, and realized as he spoke that the words were true. He more than missed her. He wanted her. Hell, he needed her.

  “Then go. If you don’t, you’ll always wonder if she showed up.” Her grin was both mischievous and understanding. “You know I’m right.”

  The back door opened and Marion paused in the entrance, her eyes fixed on their still-joined hands. “And how’s it going in here?” she asked with a mother’s forced casualness.

  Josh met Selina’s eyes, saw her wink and laughed. “It’s going great, Ma. We were just planning New Year’s Eve.”

  JOSH STARED AT THE BURNED-OUT shell of a building and told himself that it wasn’t an omen. So the Tahoe Oasis had burned. That didn’t mean his reunion with Cleo was going to crash and burn, as well.

  Except, of course, it did.

  They’d said they were going to meet at the small motel. Presumably she’d call to make a reservation, find out the place was gone and blow it off. Or she’d take the plunge and email him, asking for their revised plans.

  Except he’d had no email, and surely she would have made travel arrangements by now.

  Dammit.

  Hell, she’d probably forgotten about their reunion altogether. Or figured that since she was with Perry there really was no point.

  Perry. He was really beginning to not like that guy.

  He turned in a slow circle, happy to see that the little diner across the street hadn’t been affected by the blaze, and he headed in that direction, thinking about breakfast. It was three days after Christmas, and he’d awakened that morning with Selina’s advice on his mind. Keep the date.

  He’d ignored the voice at first—there were things to be done at the office even if he had given the staff the week off. It had been an excellent year for Goodson Mining, but Josh was still determined to convince the board that expansion was the best thing for the company, even if that meant doing a bit of headhunting and finding people he could trust to run point in Washington and around the globe, keeping him free to stay in Nevada and run the show from the center of an expanding web. It wasn’t the job he’d dreamed of, but life had taken a sharp turn with his father’s death and it was what it was. As his mother repeatedly reminded him, the family needed him in Carlin. They didn’t, of course, but he’d never manage to convince his mother—or the board—of that.

  He’d stood in his empty office that morning with absolutely no intention of flying to Reno and then making the drive to Tahoe. What would be the point?

  But he couldn’t escape the fear that she’d show and he wouldn’t be there.

  And so he’d decided to keep the date. Come to Tahoe. Hang out until New Year’s Eve. And maybe, just maybe, when the new year came and Cleo hadn’t shown, he’d be finally over her.

  Except now that he was here, he was terrified that really would happen. That she wouldn’t come. And now that the Oasis was destroyed, that she couldn’t come.

  Well, damn.

  “Josh? Josh Goodson?”

  He swiveled and found himself looking into a familiar face. “Professor Vickers?” Jillian Vickers was older now, but he would have recognized the smiling face of his favorite sociology professor anywhere.

  “Please, it’s been what? Five years? Call me Jillian.” She gestured to a booth. “Join me? I’m waiting for a to-go order, and I’d love to catch up.”

  “Sure.” Josh signaled to the waitress then followed Jillian to a corner booth with a view of the burned-out Oasis and the mountains rising behind it.

  “Such a shame,” Jillian said. “The owners were about to start renovating the motel, too. I saw the plans. It was going to be charming. I’m sure they’ll rebuild, but it’ll take time.”

  Josh nodded, silently cursing his bad luck. Right then, he didn’t much care if the Oasis ever got rebuilt. He needed it to be there now, and that just wasn’t possible.

  “So where are you going to stay?”

  He glanced at Jillian. “I’m sorry?”

  “You’re staying up here until the new year, aren’t you?”

  “Oh. No, I—no.” Maybe this was an omen. The universe’s way of saying that he needed to just let Cleo go. “I have to get back to work. There’s an insane amount to be done.”

  “To work? But no one works on New Year’s Eve! You’d miss all the fun.” Her eyes twinkled. “You’d miss Cleo.”

  It was as if she’d kicked the breath right out of him. “You know?”

  “Cleo told me about your deal when she came to the house to say goodbye. Five years.” She reached across the booth and squeezed his hands. “Don’t you want to be here when she comes?”

  “If she comes. She’s knee deep in a new life now. She even has a boyfriend.”

  Jillian waved her hand dismissively. “Maybe she’s dating, maybe she’s not. But you two were in love. Have a little faith in romance, Josh.”

  He glanced out the window at the charred remains of the motel. “I need more than faith. I need a roof.”

  This time, her smile was smug. “As it happens, Ken and I can help with that…”

  CHAPTER TWO

  JILLIAN GLANCED THROUGH THE window to where Josh sat sipping his espresso on the porch in front of a small fire in the chiminea. Despite a blizzard at Thanksgiving and more snow at Christmas, the days leading up to the new year had turned unseasonably warm, and she was looking forward to taking her own coffee and some cookies out on the porch, as well.

  Their house in Reno was overflowing with family, and though Jillian loved being surrounded by the kids and grandkids, that morning she and Ken had decided to grab some alone time and drive to the cabin. They’d received two espresso machines for Christmas, and rather than return one, they’d decided to bring it up to Lake Tahoe. Sitting in front of the fire sipping a cappuccino sounded too decadent to pass up.

  Once there, Ken had discovered a few odds and ends that needed repairing, and
so she’d left him in handyman heaven and headed to the diner to pick up some lunch. Now she was certain that it was fate that had delivered that extra espresso machine. Because if it weren’t for that machine, she never would have bumped into Josh Goodson. And that was very fortuitous indeed.

  She busied herself putting cookies on a plate, feeling her husband’s amused eyes on her.

  “All right. Fess up, Jillian. What are you up to?”

  She looked up at Ken who was leaning against the counter with a Cheshire cat grin on his wonderful, tanned face.

  “Can’t I invite a former student to the cabin for coffee without you turning suspicious on me?”

  “No,” he said. “You really can’t.”

  She playfully whapped him with the kitchen towel. “Don’t pretend like you don’t remember Josh and Cleo. You were rooting for those kids as much as I was.”

  Jillian and Ken Vickers both taught at the university in Reno, and Josh and Cleo had each passed through their classrooms at various points throughout their four-year undergrad, and after a small seminar course, the Vickers and the young couple had become close friends. The kids would often come over to Jillian and Ken’s house on the weekends for burgers or steaks—Ken was an artist with a grill—and they’d spent long evenings discussing everything from movies to politics to books to food.

  Jillian had seen the way those two were with each other—how much they reminded her of herself and Ken back when they were young—and she’d actually cried when she’d learned that Cleo was leaving for law school at Harvard, and that they were breaking up instead of trying to manage a long-distance relationship.

  “They aren’t us,” Ken said, stepping up behind her. He pressed his hands against her shoulders, and she leaned back against him, wishing she could hug Josh and Cleo to her and make them be as happy as she and Ken were.

  “I just wish—”

  “I know.” He kissed the top of her head. “But everyone has to find their own path. Sometimes it’s rocky. It was even for us.”