Page 123 of Holiday Hopefuls
“Sounds sincere to me.” The words come from behind me.
Turning toward the voice, I watch as Prescott strides into his father’s office.
His navy slacks lift, exposing socks with unicorns, as Prescott crosses his legs sitting in the chair next to mine. “Hello, Dr. Rhodes.” Prescott looks across the small space between us, an alarmingly pleasant smile resting on his clean-shaven face.
My frown deepens. “Prescott.”
“You’re serious?” He nods to the open ring box in my hand. “About this?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Prescott leans back casually in his chair. “When do you plan on proposing? I’d imagine the sooner the better?” His voice is calm. Too calm.
I don’t bother hiding my shock, brows shooting up at his question. “Are you saying you’re good with this?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I figured you probably hate me.”
Prescott shrugs. “I don’t hate you. I even think there’s potential for us to be friends. I’ll admit that I don’t love the trouble you helped create for my family. But Calloway was right—there were issues that needed to be addressed. And you made her stronger.” He casts a quick glance at his father. “That’s something the rest of our family clearly failed at. So I’m on Calloway’s side. And if her side includes you, then great.”
Man, that dinner last night must’ve gone better than Callie let on. Of course, I did rush her a bit since Blythe and Mom were busy gushing over Callie’s ring in the background.
Heaven forbid they waited until I was off the phone.
“Now,” Prescott says, “the proposal?”
Looking over at Ira, I shake my head and turn back to Prescott. “I haven’t really decided yet. Preferably as soon as possible. I just need to figure out the logistics.”
Callie’s brother grins. A quick nod between father and son before Prescott’s mischievous eyes return to me. “Oliver, how would you feel about having an audience?”
23
Callie
The firm’s New Year’s Eve party is in full swing. Mom knocked Dad’s vision out of the park with glittering golds, midnight blacks, and mirrored surfaces covering every inch of the Aspen Point Grand Ballroom. Sparkling golden tablecloths shimmer under the low lights, diamond centerpieces dripping in crystals that flow gracefully onto the nearly one hundred tables. Candles glow on every tabletop, highlighting the glasses of champagne abandoned for the onyx pool of a very full dance floor. The flower choice is a little odd for the occasion, but if Mom decided red roses were the flower of the party, then no one was going to tell her otherwise.
A full buffet lines the back wall, filled with all kinds of amazing hors d’oeuvres, finger sandwiches, and sweets. Every beverage from soft drinks, to champagne, to hot chocolate wait to be served, with an entire wall of greenery bringing a serene levity to the glitz and glamour of the rest of the room.
But I have to admit, the hot chocolate fountain may be the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve already taken three pictures on my phone and sent them to Oliver.
He returned the favor by sending back pictures of the cutest dog named after concession stand food.
Since he thought it’d be best if he stayed away for a bit longer, I am officially dateless for New Year’s Eve. I think the only time Oliver was actually sorry for missing tonight’s shindig was when he saw the outfit Connie and Imogene put me in. One look at the simple long-sleeve black blouse and shimmering gold miniskirt featuring a diamond pattern, and I could tell he was thinking about all the ways we could celebrate the new year when I returned. Imogene added her own level of glamour by zipping me into thigh-high black suede boots, and finishing me off with minimal makeup and small gold hoops. Connie did manage to hold me down long enough to pull my hair into some kind of fancy bun, which was only accomplished by Imogene handing me a third cup of hot cocoa.
I added the final touch of Oliver’s necklace.
Having left Aaron by the buffet, I wander back toward the crowded dance floor. As I watch everyone mingle and laugh and dance the night away, I can’t help but revel in the lightness in my chest. I’ve been in this ballroom a thousand times for a thousand different occasions. Every time, I spent the entire event worried about what my brothers or dad would say about me in front of others, and how well I would be able to temper my reaction. I spent so many years tirelessly monitoring my every expression, my every word.
It was truly exhausting.
Our family still has a long way to go. But I know we’re headed in the right direction. If anything, having all four of my siblings in my tiny apartment without ripping each other’s heads off is a great starting point.
And with Oliver’s support, I have no doubt the journey will be worth it.
Maybe one day, we’ll even have a family of our own.
Taking a seat at the closest empty table, I nibble on a chocolate chip cookie I picked up on my last trip to the dessert bar.
