ROMANCE: Life Shocks Romances: Contemporary Romance Box Set (Life Shocks Romances Collection Book 2)

by Jade Kerrion

  “How did you deal with it?”

  “I tried to replicate her path to happiness.”

  Only he didn’t sound happy. “And?”

  “I learned that happiness can’t be forced and the timing can’t be controlled. We all travel different paths, and as much as Maggie managed to complicate her extremely drawn-out relationship with Drew, I suspect I have an even greater tendency to complicate things.”

  Holly laughed at his self-deprecating remark. “So women don’t have the monopoly on overcomplicating relationships?”

  “I think it’s possible to try too hard to make something right that simply isn’t meant to be.”

  She stared at Brandon over the flickering candlelight. Just yesterday, she had looked at another man across the table, a man who was trying to make right the wrongs in her life. She had wondered then if it was even meant to be. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

  Brandon nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

  Holly tilted her head. “Are you on the rebound?”

  He was silent for a moment. “I like to think I’m not, but it’s not easy to tell, at least not this close to the situation.”

  “How long ago was it?”

  He drew a deep breath. “Almost a year now.”

  “Must have been serious. Most men I know would have moved on within weeks.”

  The curve of Brandon’s lips was self-mocking. “She left me at the altar.”

  Holly’s mouth shaped an O of surprise. “I’m sorry.” She reached across the table and laid her hand over his. “Did you want to talk about it, or should I change the topic?”

  “Let’s change the topic. I think it’s considered profoundly bad manners to talk about prior relationship disasters this early in a friendship.”

  Holly nodded her agreement. I probably shouldn’t mention how my fiancé got my best friend pregnant, and how their son is now in my first grade class, or that my ex- fiancé is apparently still in love with me.

  The waitress came by with the first round of tapas, and for several minutes, the conversation focused on tastes and flavors. Among other things, Holly learned that Brandon hated the smell and taste of parsley but loved white anchovies packed in brine. She confessed to her habit of picking the red and green peppers out of her Thai curries, on the grounds that real Thai curries couldn’t possibly use red and green peppers since they weren’t native to Thailand. Laughing, Holly and Brandon tipped their wine glasses to each other, and Brandon waved the sommelier over to recommend a bottle of red to complement the second half of their dinner.

  The shared meal added to the intimacy of the moment, and by the time dessert rolled around, Holly was thoroughly enjoying the company of a man who had made it clear he was interested in her as a date, was honest enough to confess that he wasn’t entirely certain if he was emotionally clear of his previous relationship, and possessed enough self-awareness to be both amusing and fascinating.

  “I had a great time tonight,” Brandon said as he walked her to her door.

  “And you head back to New York tomorrow?”

  He nodded. “You’ll hear from me as well as your aunt’s financial advisor as we finalize your aunt’s estate, but I wondered if I could see you again.”

  “I…yes, I’d be happy to see you again.”

  He glanced at his smartphone, obviously checking his calendar. “How about a week from today? Would December 24 work for you? I realize it’s Christmas Eve, but I’d be able to come down that morning and spend most of the day with you.”

  Holly hoped he wouldn’t hear the pounding of her heart. “Sure, that would be wonderful.”

  “Perfect. I’ll be in touch. And thank you for your company at dinner.” He leaned in to brush his cheek against hers. The smell of his aftershave shot straight into her head—so different from Peter’s, who reminded her of everything young, reckless, and wild. Brandon possessed the scent of a man—sexy and mature. He was the big city sophistication to her small town simplicity, but some of the things he said had resonated with her. They both had pasts they were trying to leave behind and futures they were looking forward to.

  She closed the door on Brandon and walked up the narrow staircase to her second floor bedroom. Mojo tripped alongside her and leaped up to claim the prime spot on her bed. Holly paused by her desk and stared down at her planner. She picked up her pencil and scribbled Peter’s name on December 23 and Brandon’s on December 24. “The ghosts of Christmas Past and Christmas Future.” She smiled at the whimsical thought.

  Well, her past and her future were apparently colliding in her present. What in heavens’ name was she supposed to do?

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next day, Holly took her dog on his customary walk. Mojo weaved from one side of the promenade to the other, oblivious to the amused glances of passersby who stepped out of his way. Holly followed in a straight line, flashing apologetic smiles at the people enjoying a warmer-than-usual winter day in Havre de Grace.

  For the most part, faces passed in a blur as she traipsed through her own internal world while walking through the physical one. Occasionally, she glanced around and looked ahead, seeking a familiar face, a particular face. She brightened when she finally saw James walking Lucy. Unlike Mojo, who had failed all three dog-training programs Holly had enrolled him in, Lucy trotted with impeccable manners by James’s side and sat automatically when he stopped to talk to Holly.

  “Great day for a walk.” He grinned.

  His smile drew one from her. “Been out long?”

  “About an hour, but Lucy’s still having fun.” He fell in beside Holly. Mojo slurped a lick on Lucy’s nose, sniffed her butt appreciatively, and continued to scramble ahead like a hyperactive hooligan. Lucy made an odd woofing sound; Holly would have sworn that if the chocolate Labrador could roll her eyes, she would have.

  “You’re out later than usual,” James remarked. They hadn’t exactly coordinated walking their dogs along the promenade each day, but their accidental meetings over the previous two years had become frequent enough to settle into a comfortable daily routine.

  Holly shrugged. “I was talking to a financial advisor, and the conversation ran over.”

  He glanced at her. “Is everything all right?”

  She stared down at sneakers as she took bigger steps to compensate for the shortness of her stride. Her actions were instinctive, although she never quite thought about it until that day. She did notice, though, that he had shortened his stride so that they could comfortably walk together, and like her, he seemed to do so without thinking.

  How long had they been doing that? Her brow furrowed. Her encounters with both Peter and Brandon were certainly making her think harder about all her interactions in general. Who more than James, whom she saw at least twice every day—once at school and again in the evening when walking their dogs.

  Holly broke the silence. “Remember the lawyer who called me yesterday in the car?”

  “About your aunt’s estate.”

  “He had amazing news. My aunt left me just about everything.”

  James glanced at her but said nothing, obviously waiting for her to elaborate. He was good at asking questions through probing silence.

  “It’s a great deal of money. Enough to pay for my car repairs, and pay off the home equity loan my father took on the house. I’m not tied down to Havre de Grace anymore. In fact, I don’t have to be tied down to anything at all.” A smile split her face. “It’s the most amazing feeling.”

  “It is,” he agreed quietly. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  His lack of reaction stung her. The excitement in her tone cooled. “No, not yet. I’m just trying to absorb it all. I spoke to the financial advisor, and he said it’d take about a week for the official paperwork to go through. I have my aunt’s Manhattan townhouse, too, and I’ll need to decide what to do with it.”

  “Do you think you’ll leave Havre de Grace?”

  “I don’t k
now.”

  “You’d talked about leaving.”

  She nodded. Talk was cheap, though, and now that the possibility loomed real, she struggled to wrap her mind around the concept of new neighborhoods and unfamiliar faces. “Why didn’t you leave two years ago, after your divorce? Someone with your experience and qualifications would have done a great deal better than become a principal of a small and financially hard-up elementary school.”

  “I had reasons to stay.”

  “I know you’ve applied for other positions.” Holly smiled. “The high school could use a principal like you, but I wouldn’t have thought that it’d be enough to keep someone like you here.”

  His gaze swept across the view of the Chesapeake Bay. “It takes lots of things to keep people where they are. The high school principal position was just one of the many reasons.”

  “When will you hear from the district superintendent?”

  “I don’t know. Probably too late.”

  “Too late? For what?”

  James shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter. Personal goals. Personal dreams.”

  “Those matter.” Holly shoved her hands into the pocket of her jacket. Her shoulder brushed against James as they walked. “I never did ask before—it seemed too personal—but why did you leave your job as principal of that private prep school in Essex to become principal of our elementary school two years ago?”

  “I divorced.”

  “What?”

  “The private prep school was Catholic, and they didn’t want people with failed marriages in leadership roles.”

  A frown furrowed her brow. “Can they do that?”

  “Every organization—public or private—has rules, and unfortunately, the one I was in didn’t approve of my marriage dissolving. I could have stayed on as a teacher, but it wasn’t what I wanted at that time. I did want to stay in the area though, and the elementary school was looking for a principal at that time.”

  “Was it a big change?” Holly stared at James’s face. He seemed at ease, and try as she might, she could not see any regret. However, he must have taken a large financial hit in that career transition.

  “Life changes all the time. You just have to roll with it.”

  She blew out her breath. “I realize now I’ve been living in a stupor for eight years.”

  “Because of Peter?”

  She nodded. “It’s crazy how something like that affected me so deeply. I’d always prided myself on being levelheaded. I thought I did a fantastic job of setting him aside and moving on. Now I see I only ended up setting myself aside. I sure as heck didn’t move on.”

  “But now you’re ready to?”

  “I’m trying, but I’m probably too close to the situation to really know.” She peered up at him. “Do you think I’m moving on?”

  “You were willing to talk to him and to give him a second chance. It takes courage to do that.”

  “My aunt’s lawyer, Brandon Smith, asked me out too. I’m going out with him on the twenty-fourth.”

  James’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re definitely making up for the last eight years.”

  She scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Dating two men at once.”

  “I’m not dating them.”

  He stopped and gave her a steady look. “Do these men know that you don’t think of them as dates?”

  “You know what I mean.” She kicked the toe of her sneakers on the wooden planks of the boardwalk. “A date does not a steady relationship make.”

  James conceded with a nod. “Fair enough. So what does?”

  She stared at the one man who had been her steady friend for several years. In the past two years, since his divorce, she might have even ventured to say that their friendship had deepened. The parts of her day she enjoyed the most were her evening walks with him, Mojo, and Lucy. The fact that he sat in the principal’s office at the elementary school also loomed large in her world. She liked knowing that someone who truly cared about the children was in charge.

  Their eyes met. Neither shied away.

  Not for the first time, nerves fluttered in the pit of her stomach when she gazed into James’s familiar face. The laugh lines around his eyes and mouth and the occasional streak of gray in his hair reminded her that he was a great deal older than she was. He had started out as her mentor, and he was still her boss. Perhaps it was the reason she had never thought of him as anything more than a friend.

  “Am I too late?” James asked quietly.

  “Too late for what?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Christmas approached, and the last week of school flew by. The children were especially rambunctious on the last day of class. The pizza and cupcake party likely had something to do with it. Holly handed out goodie bags with candy canes and little gifts she had purchased, and glanced up at the clock. It was almost 3 p.m. The start of her vacation was mere minutes away. She had ten days off from work, during which she would make big decisions that would impact the rest of her—

  The pizza boxes tipped over with a crash, smearing tomato sauce and splattering crusts over the floor.

  She jerked her gaze up to stare into Aidan’s sneering face.

  “Aidan!”

  Before she could stop him, his arm swung out, sending the uneaten cupcakes smashing to the tiles. The other children in the class screamed at the outrageous waste of sugar, vanilla, and chocolate.

  “You’re all just stupid,” he mocked. “Stupid and ugly. Christmas is stupid too.”

  One of the little girls stomped her foot. “You’re just jealous because you know won’t get any presents. You don’t have a daddy, and your mommy doesn’t love you.”

  “Trina, that’s enough. Aidan, you’re going to the principal’s office.” Holly glanced at the clock as it turned 3 p.m. She stifled a sigh against the encroaching headache and her now-extended last day of school.

  She had been so close.

  ~*~

  After she dismissed the children and cleaned up the mess on the floor, Holly walked down the hallway to James’s office. His administrative assistant was not at her desk; she must have left for the day. The door of his office, however, was slightly ajar and the sound of his voice and Debra’s carried through the open door.

  “I’ve done everything I know how to do,” Debra said. Frustration tinged her voice. “The psychologist’s recommendations are just completely unworkable.”

  “Two one-hour sessions per week—”

  “It’s all the home activity he wants me to do.”

  “An hour a day to spend with your son that isn’t related to homework, chores, or meals?”

  “Yes, that’s crazy.”

  “It’s an hour, and it can be broken into smaller segments.”

  Holly inched closer and peeked in. Aidan leaned against the wall, his green-eyed gaze resting on his mother, who sat beside James on the couch.

  Debra dabbed at her eyes with a sodden piece of tissue paper. “I don’t have an hour. I barely have time to cook a real meal and put it on the table. Do you people even live in the real world?” Her voice cracked. “Do you know what it’s like to wake up exhausted each morning and dread the number of hours you have to work to pay the electric company before they cut off the heat? That’s my life.” She choked back a sob.

  His expression gently sympathetic, James held out a box of tissues to her.

  Debra grabbed a piece of tissue and held it to her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I swore I wouldn’t fall apart. If Peter would just step up…” She made a growling sound deep in her throat. “That job of his is a sham. It lets him bury his money down so many rabbit holes the IRS couldn’t find it, never mind an overworked clerk at the courthouse reviewing my request for child support increases. He even uses his job as an excuse to skip out on the few days he sees Aidan each year. He’s missed every visit this year except for the last one, when he called me out
of the blue and insisted on coming along to the parent-teachers meeting with you and Holly.” She sighed. “I don’t know what’s up with him, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’s not like anyone gives a damn anyway.”

  “Many people care, probably more than you know.”

  “Like who? You?” Debra’s strident, challenging tone softened and took on a coquettish edge.

  Holly caught a glimpse of Debra gazing at James through her spiky eyelashes, glistening with tears. Shock punched a hard fist into Holly’s stomach. What the heck? Was Debra flirting with James?

  An instinctive guilty twinge overtook the flare of jealousy before the former had time to register fully. Her shocking invasion of privacy was like an icy slap to her face. Why was she eavesdropping on a private conversation? She took several steps back, not fully realizing what she was doing until her back hit the far wall.

  I shouldn’t have listened in. It wasn’t my business.

  Her cheeks heated, Holly made her escape. Physically, it was easy to walk away, but her thoughts lingered on James, and on the sudden and inexplicable appearance of her jealous streak.

  ~*~

  Holly went over to her sister’s home for dinner that night. Noelle lived just around in the corner in the Craftsman-style house that had been in Connor’s family for generations. The house was a pretty, little thing with a gabled roof and a wraparound porch. Holly marched up the steps and leaned on the doorbell.

  The sound of feet pattered to the door, which opened to reveal a young girl.

  Holly smiled. “Hello, Grace.”

  “Hello, Aunt Holly. Come in.” Eight-year-old Grace was the older of Connor’s two daughters from his first marriage. Connor’s first wife, Millie, had passed away giving birth to Hope, who was almost three.

  Hope ran into the foyer, and a white cat romped behind her. “Aunt Holly!” Hope flung her arms around Holly’s legs. “I missed you.”

  “Well, I’ve been really busy, but I’m on vacation now and I’ll have time to come over to play. You’d like that, won’t you?”

  Hope nodded, her smile bright. “Mommy’s making roast chicken, and I make cookies.”