While the man gave her some privacy and ducked outside the reception room door, from the reception counter, Narelle Johns popped her perfectly coiffed, titian-blond head up.
“You were on your way out, Trin. I’ll take care of that, if you want.”
Trinity received goods from many of the people she interviewed—merchandise ranging from beauty products to quaint artworks to scented soaps resembling flags of the world. But as she weighed this particular gift, she felt most curious. She rotated the box and read the return label.
She murmured aloud, “From Mr. Poultry-geist.”
Her stomach looped and perspiration broke down the line of her back. She had to find the nearest chair or chance rubber legs buckling beneath her. Seeing her reaction, Narelle shoved back her caster chair and zoomed over.
“Are you all right? Do you want a glass of water? Do I need to get security?”
“No, no. It’s nothing like that.”
“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
Trinity thought of Zack’s chicken story and her lips wobbled on a smile. “In a way, I have.”
Narelle pulled up a nearby chair. With no one else in the room, Trinity found she couldn’t contain her curiosity enough to wait until she got home, or even make it back to her office. With the receptionist looking on, she peeled back the red ribbon, tore open the iridescent white paper, pried open the fitted lid and pulled out…
Narelle let out a rapt sigh. “OMG. It’s beautiful.”
Moisture edged Trinity’s eyes as she studied the thin glass ball that seemed to tell so many stories.
“A snow globe,” she murmured, tipping the ball, which was set on a gold stand, upside-down then right-side-up. Her smile widened as a flurry of snow fell and settled on the scene. There was a wood cabin—nothing near as extravagant as Zack’s but just as homey looking—a big dog standing on his hind legs, perhaps barking at, or catching snow in his mouth. A couple stood by the front door. In the woman’s arms lay a baby swaddled in a white wrap.
Trinity screwed her eyes shut and swallowed deeply. Looking into that globe brought to the surface such a mix of emotions—feelings she’d fought to control these past days but never to forget. She wanted those memories to live on in her mind until the day she died. Still, she didn’t want to live in the past, not anymore. She’d already decided to take Zack’s advice and move forward.
“Who’s it from?” Narelle had picked up the box and was peering and digging around inside. “I don’t remember anyone we’ve interviewed having a connection with snow globes.”
“It’s personal.”
“In that case, you’d better read this note.”
Trinity took the folded piece of notepaper from Narelle and scanned the lines. Every word made her heart lift a little higher and her resolve dig in a little deeper.
Narelle asked, “Are you going to go?”
Trinity darted a look at the younger woman who’d been reading over her shoulder.
Narelle shrugged. “I couldn’t help but pick up on a few phrases, like ‘need to see you again’ and ‘this Saturday night.’”
Trinity admitted, “When I was snowed-in in Colorado, I stayed in a place something like this.”
“A wood cabin? With a dog?”
Trinity nodded.
But then Narelle tipped closer, squinted into the globe. “Isn’t that a baby?”
“Yes, it is.”
The receptionist sat back. “Wow. For a minute I thought this guy might’ve had this specially made.”
“I think he did.”
“But, a baby?”
“Believe me, it’s a long story.” One she’d told Kate but no one else.
“I guess the only question is…” Narelle waggled her eyebrows. “Are you going to accept?” She glanced again at the note, now lying open on Trinity’s lap. “Says it’s an engagement party. Black-tie at a private address in Oyster Bay Cove. All sounds terribly romantic.”
Gnawing her lower lip, Trinity tipped the globe up and righted it again. The snow drifted down, coating the scene, and in her mind she could hear Cruiser barking, Bonnie Bel laughing and Zack…
She sighed.
He was intelligent and strong and funny and knowing him the way she did now—not the way the press depicted him—she couldn’t help but miss him. At night, alone in her bed, she could still feel his warmth, his soul-lifting kiss.
On that final night, he’d said he wanted to see her again. The more time had gone by, the less she’d believed that he had. But it seemed he was as good as his word and, of course, she needed to accept, if only to tell him how that experience in Colorado had changed her life and why she could never see him again. Trinity sent word back. She accepted his invitation but she would make her own way to his parents’ estate.
When Zack received her reply, he’d reached for his cell to call her. He had Story Magazine’s office number, and if she’d left for the day, he’d also searched out and had on quick dial her private line details. But, twenty-four hours later, as he stood in his parents’ home overlooking the sound, he was glad he’d refrained. If she wanted to find her own way here, no harm. As long as she accepted that he would drive her home, and not until morning.
Feeling a tap on his dinner jacket’s shoulder, he angled around. His mother, dressed in an elegant cream pantsuit, had left off entertaining the guests long enough to check on her middle child.
“I swear you’ve been standing staring out this window for an hour. Are you sure this girl is coming?”
“She’ll be here.”
“There’s so many interesting ladies asking about you. Your sister does have a lot of lovely friends.”
“And given it’s Sienna and her fiancé’s party, I’m happy to leave the mingling and small talk to her.”
His mother’s green eyes glistened much like the emeralds dangling from her ears. “That’s unlike you, Zackery. You’re usually so amenable.”
Leaning forward, Zack brushed a kiss on his dear mother’s cheek. “I’m fine. Go and enjoy yourself.”
Disappointment and confusion lining her still beautiful face, she moved off to rejoin her many guests. Through the library door, Zack caught sight of his father cutting her off at the pass. He was offering to top up her champagne but clearly he wanted to talk, to stay close. Zack could imagine his mother’s thoughts.
Where were you all those nights I wanted to talk?
She’d been left largely to bring up the children while the man of the house had basked in the glory that was Harrison Hotels. They’d come together twice a year for vacations and his father usually made all the important dates in his kids’ lives. But as Zack had grown older he’d come to appreciate how lonely his mother must have been all those evenings her husband had stayed late at the office…the many weekends he’d worked out of town.
They never argued in front of the children, but there’d been a couple of midnight quarrels Zack had overheard. Accusations with ugly words bandied around like “adultery” and “divorce.” As a boy, he’d flung the covers up over his head and prayed for his parents to stay together. But he never believed his father had ever cheated unless his mistress was his office and career.
As the couple walked together into the mansion’s main reception lounge where a small band was playing and the party was in full swing, Zack returned his focus to the view outside one