Page 24 of Christmas Treasures

Charlie’s breath caught.

Fig meowed, as if he already knew what she was going to do.

She looked down at her phone, then back at her cat. “Oh, Figgy, I’m in trouble.”

He flopped onto his back, paws in the air.

She typed, paused, erased.

Typed again.

Of course. I’d love to help. Let’s go see Ivy. She’ll know just what to do.

Charlie stared at her own response for a moment, already feeling a strange flutter in her chest. What was she doing? Fig jumped down from the table and wound between her ankles, as if to remind her this wasn't part of her carefully constructed plan.

Great idea. I’ll find out more about what Bianca likes from Camilla. How is 10?

She replied back right away.

10 is perfect.

She set her phone down and finished her tea in one long gulp.

"It's just decorating a room," she said to Fig, who had settled on the windowsill, watching birds flit around the feeder outside. "People do this all the time. Friends help friends."

Fig's tail twitched in obvious disagreement.

She sat at the kitchen island, hands trembling. Her fingers curled tighter around the ceramic mug in her hand, knuckles going white. Max was too charming. Too likable. Just like the man who had humiliated her.

A man who said he was interested in her too.

Evan.

But he was actually interested in her money, not her. She’d confirmed this when she’d opened an email not meant for her. A reply, accidentally forwarded to her from Evan’s laptop while they were in Lake Tahoe for a long weekend.

It had no subject line.

Just a message thread with a woman named K.

Evan: Won’t be long now. She’s completely oblivious. The money’s basically ours. California is a 50-50 state, baby! I think 50 million will do nicely, don’t you?

Planning to propose next month—already dropped a few hints. I’m betting she won’t ask for a prenup. Honestly, I don’t even think she’ll think of it. She’s brilliant, yeah, but she’s totally on the spectrum. The kind of person who doesn’t know when she’s being used.

I’ve got her right where I want her. By the way, I swiped a diamond bracelet to tide us over until I can get a ring on it.

Charlie remembered staring at the screen for what felt like hours. The nausea, the ice in her spine, the sound of Evan’s voice in the next room, humming as he unpacked takeout.

He’d come into the kitchen, kissed her forehead, and told her he’d ordered the sushi she liked.

She’d smiled.

Then excused herself.

And called the police.

What wasthis itch she felt? This need to reach out to a girlfriend and talk about what had happened last night? She’d so rarely felt this way in her life that she hardly knew what to think.

Nina. She wanted to talk to Nina. She picked up her phone, her finger hovering over Nina’s contact photo—bright-eyed, mid-laugh, holding a flour-dusted pizza peel like a sword. She almost chickened out and texted instead.

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