Page 3 of One Christmas Eve
“First day! How’s it going?”
He chuckled. “I’ve only been here five minutes, but so far, so good. The movers should be here soon with the furniture, which will help.”
“Didn’t you tell me you have an appointment already booked for this afternoon? You’re cutting it pretty close.”
“You know me. Always living on the edge.” As expected, his dad laughed at that, since on the edge was pretty much the opposite of how Preston liked to live.
He chatted with his dad for a while, as he did at least twice a week. His dad had retired early and since his mom wrote freelance articles for travel magazines, they were constantly on the move now, looking for fresh topics. Preston kept the call on the shorter side, though, because he had no place to sit and he didn’t want to lean against the freshly painted walls.
He carried in the few boxes of office supplies and his computer bag, and placed them in a corner out of the way. His mind should be on setting things in order, but the woman from the bookstore—Zoe—kept creeping into his thoughts.
She reminded him of the pin-up girls from calendars and airplanes of old, with her dark hair pulled into a long, thick ponytail and her very generous curves hugged by a polka-dotted shirt cut in a deep vee and her bright lipstick.
He hadn’t known he found women with poor driving skills and big attitudes attractive until he met Zoe. And he’d like to deny—even to himself—that hehadfound her attractive, but he couldn’t deny she’d piqued his interest. As a matter of fact, if he kept thinking about that lipstick or the way her shirt hugged her breasts, he was going to be dealing with the uncomfortable problem of an actual peak in the fly of his trousers.
Luckily, a small box truck pulled up outside and the arrival of his office furniture had him putting Zoe out of his mind. Or mostly out of his mind, since every time he made a trip out to the truck to pick which piece went in next, it took a conscious effort on his part not to look at the Cedar Street Books window to see if she was sitting in it again.
Finally the movers were finished and tipped, so he was free to close the door against thoughts of his neighbors and focus on preparing for his first clients.
The limited space had forced him to embrace a somewhat minimalist aesthetic, but he really liked the way it had come out. His simple desk was tucked in a corner, with his laptop and a few other work tools on top. Most of the room, though, was given over to a more intimate and relaxing seating arrangement. An armchair for him across a coffee table from a loveseat flanked by two more armchairs, all in an elegant dark gray fabric.
In his experience, clients were often stiff and fidgety when seated in visitor chairs at his desk. They relaxed much faster in a casual setting. Plus, couples planning for the death of one or both of them often wanted to be touching or to hold hands, and he thought the loveseat would be better. He was determined to make the process as painless as possible for his clients.
He would offer the kind of service he hadn’t been able to at the Boston firm he’d left behind. Business in the city was a lot more competitive and the hustle was the first priority. He’d run that rat race for several years, raking in some good money, but he wanted to sleep at night. To not wonder if it was heartburn or an ulcer. His parents had set the bar high and he’d lived up to their expectations.
Now he was ready to live up to his own.
Chapter Two
Great. Starting off her day with more judgment coming at her from the other side of the glass.
Unfortunately, this time the look was coming from her cousin. Or more importantly in this case, her business partner. Zoe tried not to make eye contact with Carly and after a long moment, the bell over the door rang.
“What are you doing?”
“Decorating the window.”
She heard Carly’s deep sigh of annoyance as she moved some books to set down her coffee, and she wasn’t sure if it was because Zoe was always putting books in the way of where she set her coffee or because of Zoe’s smart-ass, literal answer.
“I thought you were doing a Veterans Day theme.”
“We have a week and a half for that. Did you know Monday is National Candy Day?”
“Zoe.”
When her cousin didn’t say anything else, she finally took her attention away from the large glass bowl she was considering filling with M&Ms or Starburst candies and looked at Carly, who was waiting for the laptop to boot up. “What?”
“When I asked what you were doing, I guess what I really meant waswhyaren’t you doing the display we spent a week planning?”
If she was being honest, Zoe would have to admit it was because the patriotic display they had planned honoring local veterans would be something Preston Wheeler would find entirely suitable, but she didn’t think Carly would appreciate that answer. “I am going to do that display and everybody’s going to love it. I just want to do a temporary but really fun and eye-catching window before that one. Just for a few days.”
“Why do I get the feeling this has something to do with our new neighbor?”
Zoe looked around the materials she’d gathered for the display and couldn’t stop the satisfied smile that curved her lips. He was really going to hate it. “Why do you think that?”
“Why don’t you try being friendly instead,” Carly suggested, and then she took a long drink of coffee, but she kept her eyebrows raised so she was still making her point without even talking.
“He was unfriendly first.”
