Page 29 of Grumpy Glitter Christmas
“And Victoria?”
Meena shrugged. “She likes the big-city life. I think she gave him an ultimatum, but I’m not sure exactly what is going on. Grant is rather tight-lipped about it.”
Felicity tried to picture Victoria—polished, professional, serious. Everything Felicity wasn’t. The kind of woman who never showed up anywhere with glitter in her hair.
The kind of woman Grant had loved.
Meena was watching with sharp eyes. “Victoria was wrong about a lot of things, but especially about what Grant needed. She thought he needed someone pulling him toward ambition and prestige.” She paused, glancing at Grant. “I think he needs someone who reminds him why he stayed. Someone who makes him remember that this life—it’s not settling. It’s choosing what matters.”
The words carried too much weight. Felicity felt her cheeks warm.
“Anyway,” Meena said briskly. “That’s the Grant Whitaker backstory. He’s a good guy who’s been hurt and deals with it by controlling everything. Maladaptive and exhausting, but it comes from a real place.”
Movement outside the window caught their attention. A woman stood on the sidewalk, glancing in.
“Who’s that?” Meena asked.
“That's Cecily Glick," Jade said, her voice flat. “Town building code inspector.”
"She looks like she wants to join us," Meena observed.
Felicity let out a short laugh. "Hardly. Cecily tried to put Jade out of business. She’s probably scouring the place for code violations.”
"Ah." Meena's expression cooled. "One of those."
Cecily seemed to realize she'd been spotted. She straightened, gave an awkward wave, and hurried away.
"That's actually a good reminder though," Felicity said, standing and brushing off her knees. "I need to get those drapes up by Monday. Can't have people peeking in before the big reveal."
"Heavy drapes?" Jade asked.
"White silk panels I ordered. They'll cover the windows, provide insulation, and keep the ballroom a complete mystery until gala night."
"Ooh, I love a good reveal," Meena said, going back to her scrubbing with renewed energy.
Before anyone could say more, heavy footsteps interrupted. Brice stood in the doorway holding coils of extension cord.
“Delivery,” he said. His gaze swept the room, taking in the three women and their progress. Something flickered in his eyes. “Where do you want these?”
Meena scrambled up. “Mr. Matthews. I wasn’t expecting additional deliveries.”
“Leo said you’d need them for the work lights tomorrow.” His gaze traveled deliberately over her dirt-streaked designer outfit. “Didn’t know you did manual labor.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Clearly.” He looked past her. “Carter, where do you want these?”
“Near the stage,” Leo called.
Brice crossed the room with unhurried confidence, set down the cords, then straightened in a way that made his flannel pull tight across his shoulders.
At the doorway, Brice paused and squinted at Meena. “You got dirt on your face.”
Meena reached up. “Where?”
“Other side. Higher. Your left.”
She found it, wiping her cheekbone. “Better?”
