Page 36 of Grumpy Glitter Christmas
“I did. And then I realized I hadn’t locked the front entrance.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. He had been planning to do the final lockup. Eventually. “I came to check on you.”
“I’m fine. Just...” She gestured at the half-finished tree. “It’s going slower than I hoped. I keep second-guessing the placement. Every ornament has to be perfect, and I’m starting to think I’m losing my mind.”
He looked at the tree. It was already stunning—elegant, cohesive, exactly the kind of sophisticated display the gala needed. “It looks perfect to me.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I don’t ‘just say’ things.” He picked up one of the silver ornaments from the box and examined it. “Where does this go?”
“Grant, you don’t have to?—”
“I know I don’t have to. But you’ve been working for five hours, and that ladder isn’t safe to use alone, and—” He stopped, searching for the logical reason he was offering to help. “And it’s more efficient with two people.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Efficiency. Of course.”
“Always.”
They fell into a rhythm. Felicity would select an ornament, consider its placement, and hand it to Grant, who would climb the ladder and hang it where she directed. Sometimes she’d make him adjust it three times before she was satisfied. Sometimes she’d declare it perfect immediately. He quickly learned to predict which ornaments would require adjustment—the larger ones, the ones with more visual weight. She appreciated symmetry but not uniformity, balance but not rigidity.
Working with her was like learning a new language. One he was surprised to discover he wanted to speak.
“A little to the left,” she said, tilting her head. “No, your left. There. Perfect.”
He climbed down, and she was already selecting the next ornament—a delicate crystal snowflake. Their fingers brushed as he took it from her, and he felt the now-familiar jolt of awareness. Small, electric, impossible to ignore.
“This is kind of nice,” she said quietly. “Working together. Without crisis or chaos or Brice delivering trees that don’t fit.”
“The tree fit,” he said.
“Barely.”
“Adequate clearance is still clearance.”
She laughed at that, soft and genuine, and the sound did something alarming to his cardiovascular system.
They worked in comfortable silence after that, the only sounds being the soft music from her phone and the occasional clink of ornaments. The ballroom filled with warm, golden light as more of the tree came to life. The windows had gone dark outside, the world narrowing to just this room, this tree, this moment.
“Last one,” Felicity said, holding up a silver star. “For the top.”
Grant climbed the ladder one more time, reaching up to secure the star on the highest point. Below him, Felicity steadied the ladder, and he was acutely aware of her hands on the metal, of her presence, of the fact that she was watching him.
“How does it look?” he asked.
“Perfect.” Her voice was soft. “Absolutely perfect.”
He climbed down, and they stood together at the base of the ladder, looking up at what they’d created. The tree was a symphony of light and crystal, elegant and magical, exactly what this space needed.
“We should plug it in,” Felicity said. “See the full effect.”
She’d already set up the power connections—of course she had, because despite the chaos, she always had a system. She crossed to the wall and flipped the switch.
The tree bloomed with light.
Hundreds of tiny bulbs glowed to life, their warmth reflecting off crystal ornaments and silver ribbons, casting dancing patterns across the polished floor and up the walls. The chandeliers overhead caught the light and threw it back in sparkling cascades. The entire ballroom seemed to shimmer, transformed from an empty historic space into something out of a dream.
Felicity let out a soft, satisfied sigh. “Oh.”
Grant couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way the light caught in her hair, turning it to gold. The pure joy on her face. The small, tired smile that transformed her entire expression.
