Page 46 of The Holiday Cottage

There was a simple explanation. She was a fake. Her entire life had been cracked wide-open and eviscerated. Her lies exposed. The irony was that she’d only told the lies in the first place so that she’d be accepted by her colleagues. And now those same lies were going to ensure they never accepted her again.

But that was a problem for the future. Right now she had to figure out how to handle this latest crisis.

“If you give me the number, I’ll call her. Thanks, Janie.” She took the piece of paper Janie proffered. The number swam in front of her eyes. What was she going to say to the woman?

“Take the meeting with Dorothy and then make the call about Midas. And after that take the month off,” Rosalind said gently. “You need it.”

They thought she was losing it, and maybe she was.

This time Imogen didn’t bother arguing with her boss.

She was going to need a month off to figure out how to unravel the mess she’d made.

11

Dorothy

Dorothy arrived in the restaurant early and settled herself at the table by the window that Imogen had reserved. She’d had an excellent morning and managed to finish her Christmas shopping. She’d bought far more for the girls than she should have done, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. She intended them to have the best Christmas ever, and the thought of creating that for them raised her own spirits.

This weekend she intended to make a start on decorating the house. She’d already raided the garden for greenery, but she needed to dig out the boxes of decorations from the attic.

She checked the time. Imogen still hadn’t called, but she had no reason to think she wouldn’t be here. And after a hectic morning it was nice to sit for a moment and absorb her surroundings.

Every corner of the restaurant sparkled and all around her people were enjoying themselves. The place echoed with conversation and laughter. There was a small group enjoying an early Christmas office celebration, and a couple facing each other with bags of Christmas shopping stacked at their feet. They’d refused to leave their parcels at the desk and Dorothy wondered what could be in them that was so precious.

Christmas was supposed to be a time of giving, but for her Christmas was the time when everything had been taken away.

She took a breath and drank some of the water the waitress had poured on her arrival.

She wasn’t going to think about that now. She was going to do what Sara did and block that time of her life out and focus on the present. This Christmas was going to be wonderful, and in the meantime she was looking forward to a celebratory lunch with Imogen.

She studied the menu briefly, and when she glanced up again Imogen was standing in the doorway.

She was wearing a scarlet coat and she handed it to the girl at the desk, revealing long black boots and a well-cut wool dress that skimmed her figure and ended midthigh. She looked smart and businesslike and then she turned and Dorothy felt a flicker of concern because she could see even from this distance that Imogen was stressed.Upset?

She watched as Imogen smoothed her dress, pulled herself together and then spotted Dorothy. She crossed the restaurant in quick strides, a bright smile on her face.

“Am I late?”

“No, I was early.”

Goodness, the girl looked exhausted. As if she hadn’t slept at all. As if her world had somehow fallen apart since Dorothy had last seen her.

What could have happened?

Concerned, Dorothy stood and gave Imogen a hug even though she knew it would probably be considered unprofessional. She could almost feel Sara frowning. She expected Imogen to pull away, but instead she stayed there, hugging Dorothy as if she was the last human on earth.

Dorothy felt a lump form in her throat and she rubbed Imogen’s back.

“It’s good to see you. Is everything all right?”

“Oh. Yes, it’s fine. Sorry. Christmas hug.” Imogen cleared her throat and pulled away suddenly as if she’d just realized what she was doing. She sat down, her cheeks flushed. “It’s been a bit of a week, that’s all. You know how it is at this time of year. Chaos. I’ve been looking forward to this. Looking forward to seeing you.” She blinked several times and studied the menu hard.

She was so obviously struggling with her emotions that Dorothy felt an ache in her chest.

“Is it work that has been busy? Or all the Christmas preparations?”

“Mostly work, although some of that is linked to Christmas, of course. I had events back-to-back yesterday—” Imogen’s voice was overly bright “—but it was fine.”

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