“That’s… that’s too much,” her brother protested.
“No, it’s fine!” she said, patting his arm to try to convince him. The more she thought about it, the better the idea seemed. Bikes were the perfect gifts for the boys—they loved being outside whenever the weather was good. At least, that was what her brother had told her, anyway. “It’s for Christmas. It only comes once a year. Thank goodness,” she added under her breath. “Come on,” she said to her nephews, guiding them toward the table. “Look what I got for you. Let’s have some cookies. Yum-yum.”
As she poured them drinks, she apologized to Tyler about the change in lunch plans, explaining she had a conference call she couldn’t move.
“Please tell me you’re still coming for Christmas,” Tyler said instead, not addressing her apology.
Eve froze for a moment.
“Sherry’s making your favorite. It’s the, uh, special green beans,” he continued.
Eve grimaced and purposely didn’t look at her brother. That familiar guilt came back, hot and heavy and sitting in a lump in her stomach. Every year, he nagged her about coming to the house, and she often did. Why, she was just there last… no wait, was it two years ago? Maybe three? Anyway, it was pretty recently.
Her brother thrust his hands into his pockets, disbelief ringing in his voice as he scoffed. He always could read her. “It’s Oak Park. It’s a half-hour cab ride.”
She finally turned to him, shaking her head with regret. She had to make him understand. “But I’m just so busy.”
Tyler sighed. “Eve…”
“I’m about to make partner,” she emphasized as she poured herself some coffee. The boys were chatting at the table about what cookies they wanted to try. “I mean, I’m this close. You know, Chris Lane hasn’t even nominated someone for partner in ten years.” She was going to be the one nominated. Then Tyler would support her in this.
Tyler sipped his own coffee and gave her a cursory glance. “That’s great, sis.” His voice was chilly.
She hated letting him down, having their old, familiar argument crop back up again. The one where he called her a workaholic and she protested that she wasn’t, that she was just as passionate about her work as he was about his family. “But?”
He sighed again. “Look. I know we didn’t have a lot when we were kids, but we had each other.”
She rolled her eyes. Here it comes. So predictable. Tyler didn’t understand her drive, never had. And to bring their past into it? Okay, yeah, their family had always been tight on money. So?
“Now you’re working all the time,” he continued. “I mean, what about the rest of your life?” He waved in the direction of her nephews, the gesture saying more than words could.
She didn’t have a family of her own. Not like he did.
“I’ll get to it,” she protested. And she would. On her schedule, not because people were pressuring her. She wasn’t like Tyler, who lived for his kids and wife and didn’t have bigger aspirations for himself. She wanted more. At least, for right now. There would be time later for all of that stuff—the house and kids and white picket fence.
“When?” His voice warmed up with the strength of his convictions. “You never see your family. You put all your relationships on the back burner.”
“No, that’s not true,” she lobbed back. Irritation at his words festered in her. And she did see her family, when she could. Truth be told, maybe it wasn’t as much as they wanted her to, but she made the effort.
“Really? When was the last time you let anyone in?” Tyler took a sip of his coffee.
Ugh, and here we go, she thought with a wry smile. Moving on to the fact that she didn’t have a significant other. The argument pattern was as familiar as it was tiring.
“Well… actually, I have a relationship,” she declared, putting her mug on the table. Time to end this argument. She wanted to enjoy their remaining minutes together, not bicker. “My relationship is a long-distance relationship, because… my boyfriend is in the future.” She slugged his upper arm, and he groaned, but a peek of a smile warmed his face.
Tension leaked from her shoulders, and she relaxed. Crisis averted. She knew the topic wasn’t dropped, and he’d be back to poking at her about it soon enough. But for now, she could just enjoy their company.
“Eve,” Liz said, entering the room. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Yes,” she said, spinning to face her assistant. “Definitely. But first, go get my nephews some bikes.”
Liz just eyed her, and Tyler gave a heavy sigh.
“Eve,” he started, but she waved Liz away to go on her errand.
“They’re going to love them,” Eve assured her brother when the woman left. See? She could do this—have family time and do some personal shopping. She’d picked out the gift idea on her own. What did it matter who bought it?
Wasn’t he always telling her it was the thought that counted?
The rest of the day flew by in a flurry of meetings, and before Eve knew it, it was time to meet the doctor for drinks. She shut down her computer and exited her office. The whole building was dark. When had everyone left? She’d been too busy to notice.
“Taxi!” Eve hollered with a frantic wave as she stepped out of the building into the bitter-cold night, striding across the snow-sloshed sidewalk toward the street. One cab slowed down, so she rushed across the asphalt to catch it.
Only to have a man reach for the door handle at the same time.
“Oh, sorry,” she said to him on reflex, pulling back.
“Sorry,” he echoed and did the same.
Taking his apology as affirmation that the cab was hers, she reached for the handle again—at the same time he did.
She eyed him. Snow coated his thick black hair and dotted his eyelashes. He was striking with a strong jaw and piercing, dark eyes. Still, she didn’t have time for this. “I was here first.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure we were here at the same time,” he answered smoothly. His voice was warm and rumbling. After a moment, he said, “Uh, are you going north?”
She nodded. “Yeah, north side.”
He smiled, and the gesture made her stomach flip for some odd reason. “Me, too. Wanna share?”
She glanced down for a moment, pondering it, then shrugged. “Okay.” Why not? She could be magnanimous. So long as she made her meeting on time.
They got in and rode down the street, him tucking a guitar case between his legs, resting the bottom on the floor. She flipped through her email notifications on her phone and made brief, idle chitchat with the stranger. But the Christmas music playing was irritating and distracting. She asked the driver to change the station.
“You don’t like Christmas music?” the guy beside her said.
She snorted. “Oh, it goes on and on and on.” And every Christmas season, all the stations were inundated with it. Nonstop. How was no one else but her burned out on hearing it so much? Ugh.
He started to sing a Christmas song, and she side-eyed him. He stopped.
“Partridges in trees,” she said, leaning toward him and waving a hand. “What do those words even mean?”
“I’m pretty sure they’re called ‘lyrics,’” he said evenly. Funny guy.
“But… they’re non-migratory birds. If they did make a nest,