He absently doodled on the unprinted edge of a report. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for good weather. We were completely socked in last night and this morning with a blizzard. It’s still coming down here.”
“You don’t have to tell me, I already know we’re crazy to travel this time of year. Even without a storm, the parks are going to be completely packed over the holidays. We won’t be able to move—and don’t even get me started on the lines. The kids are so excited, I hope it will be worth it. Every time we Skype, they don’t want to talk about anything else.”
Louise’s son-in-law had recently been transferred to Charleston. Aidan knew how hard it had been on his longtime assistant—and good friend—to have her grandchildren so far away. He suspected within the next few years she would be retiring to move closer to them.
“Enough about me,” she said after a few minutes of discussing her vacation plans. “How are you feeling?”
His pen jerked across the edge of his doodle. “Fine,” he said.
“Is the headache any better?”
“Some.”
Out of a habit he couldn’t seem to shake, he reached his index finger to the spot just behind his left ear. The hair in that particular spot hadn’t completely grown back, it was about an inch long now, bristly and itchy. Fortunately, the scar was in a spot where his hair was long enough to camouflage.
Pop was going to tell him he needed a haircut. He was going to have to preemptively come up with a strategic response. He wasn’t sure his father would believe he wanted to audition for a rock band or he was going on the road as a competitive snowboarder.
“The new medicine Dr. Yan prescribed is helping,” he answered Louise now. It was partly true. The pain was a dull, constant ache most of the time instead of a piercing, howling roar.
“Why don’t I believe you?” Worry threaded through her voice.
Maybe because she knew him too well. “Don’t concern yourself about me,” he told her. “Just enjoy the holidays with your family.”
He was doodling a Christmas tree now, complete with little curlicue ornaments.
“Same to you. It’s a good thing you have a good one—and a big house to host them all. Twenty houseguests for the holidays are enough for anyone. Sue is definitely going to have her hands full.”
Right. That had been the main reason for his call. “Speaking of Sue, can you email me the standard employment forms? I’m hiring someone to help her run the household while my family is here.”
“I can contact the employment service in the area and have someone sent over. It might take a day or two.”
“Not necessary. I’ve already found someone.”
He could almost hear her frown communicated across the line. “You hired someone on your own? Someone from the area?”
Louise was a master—mistress?—at conveying volumes with a well-placed pause. As one of the few with total knowledge of his health issues—information that had been deliberately withheld from Caine Tech stockholders and the general public—she had become extremely overprotective since September.
“Relax. I vetted her first, you can be sure. I spoke with a previous employer and received nothing but glowing reviews.”
Technically, Eliza had never actually worked for Megan Hamilton, since the poor woman’s hotel burned down first. Her loss, his gain. He decided not to mention that to Louise.
“What do you know about her?” his assistant asked.
Not as much as he would like. While he couldn’t put a finger on it, he sensed Eliza had secrets she was deliberately keeping from him. “She’s a widow and single mother, new to the area. She has been working on the management team at a small hotel in Boise and is eminently qualified to run the household, which will leave Sue free to focus on what she loves best—the cooking.”
“If she can manage to keep Dermot out of the kitchen.”
“Maybe I’ll hire a bouncer for that, too.”
Louise laughed, that rich, full laugh that always made him smile. “That’s not as far-fetched as it sounds. You might just need one.”
“Better send me two sets of employment forms,” he joked.
They hung up after a few more moments and he scratched a few more embellishments on his doodled Christmas tree while he thought about all the people who worried about him.
He was a lucky man.
A few months ago, he wouldn’t have been able to say that as he had stared down into the abyss of human frailties.
He looked through the floor-to-ceiling windows with sweeping views overlooking the lake and the mountains—okay, there was the big difference between this office and those in California—and saw the snow had begun to fall again, not as hard as the day before but big puffy snowflakes.
His stomach growled loudly. When he glanced at his watch, he was surprised to discover it was after two, hours since the quick breakfast he had grabbed before he’d headed out to clear snow with Jim.
He could use a break, he decided. Without Louise there to gently remind him, he would work straight through without eating. He was surprised, actually, that Sue hadn’t brought him a tray. She usually did.
He filed the paperwork—doodles and all—then rose, stretched and headed toward the kitchen.
The moment he walked out of his office, he heard a small voice singing “Jingle Bells.” Maddie, he realized. What a cute kid. The heart condition, though. He felt a little squeeze in his chest as if in sympathy. That seriously sucked, though she didn’t seem to let it bother her.
Maddie and her mother were decorating that behemoth of a Christmas tree. Eliza stood on a ladder hanging ornaments while the little girl worked on the lower branches.
They must have been at it for a while, since only about half of the branches were still bare. He had to wonder how many rounds of “Jingle Bells” Eliza had endured.
Maddie finished the song with a flourish. “What should I sing next, Mama? Do you want me to sing ‘Rudolph’ again or ‘Way in a Manger’?”
“You choose,” she said. Even though she faced away from him, he could tell she was smiling by the tone of her voice.
She had no business being up on a ladder, especially after she had sustained a head injury the day before. He moved forward to tell her so but Maddie spied him before she could even get to the shiny nose part of her song.
“Hi, Mr. Aidan.” She beamed at him. “You have the biggest tree I ever saw. It’s bigger than the one at the mall!”
The tree was about fifteen feet tall. To a little girl who probably barely topped three feet tall, the tree must seem gargantuan.
“This is a big room that needs a pretty big tree. A little one would look kind of sad in here, don’t you think?”
For a moment, the dimensional quandary seemed to stump her. She looked at the tree then at the room in general, then gave a serious nod. “It would be like my American Girl doll trying to ride my pet horse named Bob. He’s way too big for her.”
“Right.”
Eliza started to climb down from the ladder and he instinctively moved forward to spot her, which had the added benefit of giving him a front-row, eye-level view of her perfect curves. She was lush in all the right places.
He swallowed hard, suddenly forgetting all about his hunger. The kind requiring food, anyway.