Page 5 of A Holly Brown Christmas
Liar, liar, liar!
He sat stoically behind his desk, watching her warily. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he had no idea what she was talking about.
Before she went any further, she figured she’d better make sure they were on the same page.
“Can I ask you something?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“You did tell Lennon that you wanted to see me about this, didn’t you?” she asked nervously.
“To be honest, I didn’t know who was going to come to my office—if anyone. It was just an idea that he threw at me and I guess I wasn’t sure anything would come of it. And I definitely didn’t expect anyone to show up so soon, so…”
“Oh.” Well, rats. That was disappointing. Here she was thinking he had specifically asked for her and it looked like he not only didn’t care who showed up, but was incredibly disinterested in the party as a whole.
“The announcement about the party was as much a surprise to me as it was to everyone,” he carefully explained. “As you know, my parents are getting a divorce and this entire situation has been unsettling, to say the least.”
She nodded solemnly. “You must be devastated.”
He didn’t really confirm or deny it.
“Lennon pointed out that maybe I should handle the holiday party this year,” he said. “But I have no idea what that entails. That was always my mother’s thing, and…”
“Oh, I can totally help you with it,” Holly quickly interrupted. “I’ve worked on it with her a little in the past. I handled all the invoices for all the contractors—the decorator, caterer, exterior lighting company…all of it.”
His expression looked only mildly impressed. “I guess that would be helpful.” He let out a soft sigh before resting his arms and his desk like he was finally ready to talk to her. “Here’s the thing, Holly, I have no idea where to even begin. I know having the names and numbers of all these people is great, but…my mother worked closely with everyone. I know she never just let anyone have free rein over doing anything. Every year, the house looked exactly the same—elegant and festive. I wouldn’t even know how to express that and get the same results.”
“Okay, I get what you’re saying, and now I know I can help.”
One dark brow quirked and she thought it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
Down, girl…
Glancing over her shoulder, she considered shutting the door but thought that might freak him out. Instead, she faced him, and, in a hushed tone, explained. “I have a photographic memory. Most people don’t believe in that sort of thing, but it’s true. I’ve always had it. I can look at something—anything, really—and remember what it looks like in great detail. Even right now, I can fully envision the exact way your home was decorated for every party I’ve been at in the last five years. The only thing that really changed were the floral arrangements—but that was because Beacon’s Flowers went out of business and your mother had Florally Yours do all the arrangements for the last two years.”
Lucas’s eyes went wide, but he said nothing.
“Although,” Holly went on. “The menu changed last year because the year before, ten people got sick from the ceviche. Your mother loved that dish but took it off the menu to make sure it never happened again.”
“Is…is there anything else?” he asked.
“Hmm…” She had to think about it for a moment. “Oh, your dad didn’t like how much gold was used in the decorations four years ago, and since then, more red accents have been added. Other than that, it’s all been the same.”
“Damn, Holly. I…I don’t even know what to say to that. You must have worked very closely with everyone.”
Shaking her head, she repeated, “I have a photographic memory. The only times I was in your home were the nights of the parties. Any work with your mother happened when she was here in the office. I’m telling you; I just look around and then I never forget it.”
Pausing, she knew she was going to need more to convince him, even if it meant embarrassing herself.
“The first holiday party of the Brooks Management firm I went to, you were wearing a hunter green sweater with a burgundy shirt under it. You were standing in the foyer when everyone arrived and you had just gotten back from Seattle after meeting with a client. You mentioned how you were a little jet lagged and hoped to stay awake for the party.”
Nothing.
“The following year, you went with a navy blue sweater and a hunter green shirt under it. You greeted everyone as we arrived, and then you acted as bartender because the catering staff had several people out with the flu. You managed the bar that was set up on the lower level and I kept bringing you plates of the chicken satay with peanut sauce because you said it was your favorite and the servers weren’t coming over to the bar.”
“They were delicious,” he said with a hint of a smile.
“Year three, you wore a suit because your mother typically complained that you were dressed too casually. You wore a black suit with a red tie that had tiny Christmas trees on them. You fidgeted with that tie all night.”
