Sophie didn’t need any more of this speech. She was well aware of the grand specter of her grandmother. She lived and worked under it every day. Sophie, along with her sister, would eventually fill the matriarchal role, but it wasn’t right to claim it now. That was a position that must be earned, not inherited. “Got it.”
Reginald patted her on the shoulder. “Trust me. It’ll be stunning when you return.” He made a grand gesture for the door. “Now shoo.”
Sophie grabbed her cell phone from her desk and stepped out into the hall. Gram’s office was right next to hers. The door was still open, and Sophie flipped on the light. It still looked so strange with no Gram. Sophie had no trouble sketching in what was missing—her grandmother, with her trademark strawberry blond bob with thick bangs, never a hair out of place. On a day like today, Sophie could imagine her in a tailored dress in a fun color, perhaps a bold floral, accessorized with gold bangles and diamond earrings. She was always glamorous perfection.
Gram’s office was a similarly colorful and pristine place, with everything exactly as it was on the last day she’d worked, at the end of October. Sophie had a lot of regrets about the last time she’d seen Gram. Sophie’s day had been horrible and she’d only waved goodbye to her grandmother when she left the office. If she’d known Gram would have a heart attack in her sleep that night, she would have taken one last time to say I love you. She would have run out from behind her desk, grabbed her and given her one last hug.
Sophie turned off the light. She wasn’t ready to use Gram’s office. She might never be. It would only make her feel sad and inadequate. She could just imagine the looks on people’s faces when they walked into the room and realized that the woman sitting behind the desk did not possess the gravitas of her predecessor.
Instead, Sophie ducked into an empty cubicle hidden behind the reception area. She dialed the number for her sister, Mindy, who answered right away.
“Lizzie said you aren’t coming in today. Why not?” Sophie asked.
“Because it’s December and one of our high-production printers is broken and my team is struggling to fill orders. I don’t have time to spend at Eden’s.” Mindy had her own successful business, By Min-vitation Only, an online shop that sold high-end custom cards and invitations. “Everyone needs their Christmas cards yesterday. It’s a madhouse over here.”
“Oh. Okay. I understand.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed, Soph. You knew this was going to happen. You knew I couldn’t simply drop everything and take on new responsibilities. I appreciate that you’re steering the ship at Eden’s until Gram’s will is read, but I need you to accept the reality of our situation.”
“And what is that exactly?” Sophie crossed her legs and bobbed her foot, stealing a glimpse of her red pumps. God, she loved those shoes. Mr. Blahnik was a genius.
“Today is our reality. I am too busy to play a role in the store. Today I’m dealing with Christmas, but after that is New Year’s and Valentine’s Day. There is no downtime for me. I’ve worked hard to build my business, and I’m not stepping away from it.”
Sophie understood her sister’s predicament and her argument. She did. She just wished it wasn’t the case. Now that Gram wasn’t around to offer advice and solve problems, Sophie was perpetually out of her depth. And alone.
“Eden’s is a lost cause, Soph. You’ll be much happier when you just admit it,” Mindy said.
“It is not. Gram didn’t think so, and I don’t think so, either. We can turn it around. Our earnings were up two percent last quarter.”
“And my earnings were up twenty.”
Way to rub it in my face. “I get it, Mindy. But this is our family business.”
“I’m family. And I have a business. I’m telling you, as soon as the will is read, you and I need to sell Eden’s to the highest bidder, pocket the cash, and then you need to come work for me. Easy peasy. We’ll both have it made.”
Mindy made it sound so simple and obvious, but she hadn’t made promises to their grandmother. She hadn’t spent the last three years working for Gram, learning and growing and soaking up every drop she could of her genius. “I’m not prepared to talk about anything until after Christmas. It’s in poor taste.”
Sophie stepped out of the cubicle and tiptoed over to her office door to sneak a peek through the tiny gap between the door and the jamb.
Reginald rushed right over. “Oh, no you don’t.” He quickly closed the door, right in her face.
“Fine,” Mindy said, sounding impatient. “But will you at least call Jake Wheeler and listen to his pitch? The man is ridiculously persistent. He’s calling me twice a day.”
There it was—that name again. “I know. He sent me a fruit basket.”
“He’s got superdeep pockets, Sophie. And he sure speaks fondly of you. You’d think you two were exes the way he talks about you.”
Sophie leaned back against the wall, her vision narrowing just as her lips pinched together. “You know that’s not the case.”
“Oh, I know. I know the whole story. He’s the one who got away.”
Sophie shook her head. “He is not. He’s the snake who slithered away. And I hardly had him to begin with.” Just one unbelievably hot night of abandon.
“Regardless. Call him.”
“I’ll think about it.” Sophie already knew there was no way she would call Jake. There was a lot of wisdom in the adage about not clawing at old wounds. He’d hurt her. Badly. She would never, ever forgive him.
“Think harder. I’d like to cross him off my to-do list.”
Sophie stifled a snort. Jake Wheeler had spent two years on her “to-do” list.
Years later, she still regretted it like crazy.
* * *
Granted, expressing condolences was not Jake Wheeler’s strongpoint. He’d found it much easier to get through life by glossing over sad moments and enjoying pleasant ones. But after three unreturned phone calls, a sympathy card that garnered no response and an ignored charity donation in her grandmother’s name, he was certain Sophie Eden was not impressed with his efforts.
Jake’s admin, Audrey, buzzed the line in his office. “Ms. Eden’s assistant is on the line, Mr. Wheeler.”
Jake picked up his phone. “Lizzie, I’m worried that if we continue to spend this much time on the phone, people will start to get the wrong impression of our working relationship.”
“Sir? You remembered my name?”
“How could I not? Is this our fourth or fifth time speaking?”
“I’m not sure, sir. Probably the fifth.”
“And I’m guessing you know why I’m calling.” Jake rocked forward and back in his chair, watching out the window of his tenth-floor office in the luxury steel-and-glass tower of 7 Bryant Park. He had stunning views of the New York Public Library and other midtown Manhattan landmarks, but the one he enjoyed most was that of the building’s namesake. Down on the street, a temporary Christmas market was set up with vendors, music and ice skating. The holiday disruption had been overtaking the normally peaceful green space every December in recent years. Jake couldn’t wait for January, when it would all be gone.
“I do. And I’m very sorry, but Ms. Eden is not available right now.”
“Can you at least tell me when she’ll be back in the office?”
“She’s here all the time, Mr. Wheeler. But her schedule is packed and always changing, as I’m sure you can understand. It’s December. She runs one of the largest