Christmas island, p.1
Christmas Island, page 1
Christmas Island
MARY SHOTWELL
CHRISTMAS ISLAND
By
Mary Shotwell
Copyright © 2022 Mary Shotwell
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Edited by Tee Tate.
Cover Design by Tina Moss.
All stock photos licensed appropriately.
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Published in the United States by City Owl Press.
www.cityowlpress.com
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For information on subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher at info@cityowlpress.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior consent and permission of the publisher.
To my Tennessee book club
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Sneak Peek of…
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
About the Publisher
Additional Titles
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Don’t miss from Mary Shotwell coming soon and find her at www.maryshotwell.com
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Until then, discover EIGHT DAYS OF CHRISTMAS, by City Owl Author, Starla DeKruyf!
Ready or not, Isabella Whitley is returning to her snowy hometown of Pineridge, Colorado for her sister’s Christmas wedding. She wants in and out unscathed. Unlikely. A decade ago, she headed to New York and hasn’t looked back. Now she must explain her disappearing act to not only her family, but the high-school sweetheart she left behind as well.
Enter Leo Hoffman. He’s frosty after striving—and failing—to forget Isabella, the only woman capable of jingling his bells. Since his brother is marrying her sister, Leo is forced to celebrate Eight Days of Christmas with Isabella and her family—a tradition where they perform a different holiday activity each day leading up to December 25th.
Soon, their close proximity brings back memories—and the inability to keep their hands off one another. There’s only one problem. Isabella’s ex unexpectedly enters the equation, and she faces a difficult choice. Listen to her heart or her head? Isabella will need to decide, once and for all, where she belongs.
GET IT NOW!
Chapter One
Thursday, December 15
Laura Crawford stepped onto the sidewalk in front of her apartment in South End, a tidy, chic two-bedroom in a comfortable nook of Charlotte, North Carolina. Technically, it wasn’t her apartment, but rather their apartment. Hers and Logan’s. The harder she tried not to think about Logan Ainsworth and his misdeeds, the more he popped up in her thoughts.
Just move on. He’s never coming back.
He’ll come crawling back, begging for forgiveness.
Once a cheater, always a cheater.
He’ll see the error of his ways.
Everyone had something to say about her fiancé leaving her for another woman. The cheating itself was terrible enough. Not knowing where to go and what to do about their shared apartment was almost as bad.
She grazed her thumb over her ring finger. The diamond adorned on the gold ring had been a staple of her wardrobe, a part of her hand, that she continued to forget she no longer wore it. She kept it in her purse, not quite ready to lock it away. For whatever reason, keeping it with her, but not on her, felt right.
She walked in her comfortable flats, her stretchy, gray work pants, and a pink blouse under her knee-length wool coat, the dressiest she’d get for her job. Heels were not an option, even though the non-profit office was one neighborhood away in Dilworth. Who really enjoyed wearing heels all day? If Laura had to describe herself in one word, it would be practical. Practicality saved money, time, and like flats, provided the more comfortable choice.
If anything, she wished she had added her knit headband—her pulled back, highlighted hair doing nothing to shield her ears from the stiff morning breeze. She raised her shoulders and clenched her coat, passing by the second of three murals on the workday walk. More than half of the nearly dozen murals along these brick facades were likely there purely for social media attention. Now that Christmas swiftly approached, lighted metal ornaments of candy canes and snowflakes hung off lampposts and facades of businesses willing to participate in the ambiance. The neighborhood was Instagram-worthy; a menagerie of coffee shops, art studios, craft breweries, and modern apartments.
Ugh. That shared apartment. What was she going to do? She couldn’t afford the rent so close to work on her own. If Logan didn’t have a problem with her staying there—why should he, considering he was nowhere to be found and had cut off communication some three weeks ago—then was it necessary to go through moving stress?
Practicality, Laura.
The Learning Center for Autism Spectrum Disorder sat wedged between a children’s boutique and cafe, a first-floor, twelve hundred square-foot space with a classroom, three offices, and front desk. The naming wasn’t coincidental. The founder came up with the acronym before the full title—TLC for ASD. Laura and all the employees called it TLC for short.
Laura stepped inside and found the front desk unoccupied. Generally, they left it that way until after school when the majority of clients came by. She walked past the desk and the sign on the wall displaying the logo—a hand lifting an infinity symbol.
“There she is.” Cindy stood next to a familiar mother with her son.
“Good morning, Cindy.” Laura smiled back, wishing it came as effortless as Cindy’s cheerfulness. Not that it pained her to smile. It was just that Cindy became an orientation leader fresh out of college, and her small frame, short, fun bob and undying positivity made Laura’s twenty-six years of age seem two generations older. Less peppy.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Ryan. Mrs. Faye.”
“We wanted to stop by this morning, since it’s a Power Monday for the school. I don’t really understand how much an extra hour or two for the kids once a month helps them in any way, but what do I know?”
“Mom.” Ryan, wearing a faded Nirvana T-shirt, nudged his mother’s shoulder. He held a jacket in one hand, and hid his other hand behind his back.
“Sorry. Show her, honey.”
He proudly revealed his secret—a printed book report clearly showing a grade of ‘A’ on the front.
“That’s amazing!” Laura high-fived the teenager. Such a success was the reason she had taken the job in the first place at TLC.
“It’s a testament to the work you all do here,” Mrs. Faye said.
Laura took the compliment in stride, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear before remembering it was pulled back in a ponytail. “It’s also because of the hard work Ryan has put in.”
Ryan had been her first consultation since starting the position as community and regional outreach planner at TLC. A year ago, she’d held a community information night at his high school, one of many schools she visited throughout the greater Charlotte area. He and his mother came in the following morning. Ryan wasn’t too keen on being there and kept staring at the door and standing, only for Mrs. Faye to sit him down again. He wore that same Nirvana T-shirt and Laura quoted Kurt Cobain, which promptly won not only his attention but his willingness to participate. Laura came up with a plan that included after-school sessions for academics along with hands-on simulations and field trips to alleviate his social discomfort.
Now here were Ryan and Mrs. Faye a year down the road, showing tangible results. TLC had doubled its employees in that time, and Laura no longer focused on creating and implementing personal plans of action. She didn’t miss wearing several hats at once but missed the deeper connections with the students.
“Keep that up and I’m going to have to attend your graduation.”
“Mom said I don’t have to walk in one of those stupid dresses and hats.”
“We’re wor king on it.” Mrs. Faye winked.
Ryan turned to his mother. “We’ll be late.”
“That’s my cue.” Mrs. Faye led her son towards the front door, and Laura followed.
“Don’t take 160,” Ryan said. “We have to go to Clanton Road, then right on—”
“I know, I know.” Mrs. Faye patted his shoulder as Laura held the door for them.
“Have a great day at school, Ryan.”
He walked out to the sidewalk and his mother looked back.
Laura lowered her voice. “Sounds like you’d better take Clanton.”
Mrs. Faye smiled. “Who needs a GPS? I keep telling him he needs to be a traffic reporter.”
“No cameras.” Ryan shook his head.
The two left, and Laura held the door as a young man carrying a package approached. He read the label. “For…Pham Kim-Anh."
“I’ll take it to Kim.”
“You do work here, right?” He couldn’t have been a day over twenty.
“I do. Where’s Sam? He usually has this route.”
His apprehension disappeared. “I’m covering him the rest of the week.”
“And your name is?”
“Trey.”
“Nice to meet you, Trey. I’m Laura. You’d better get going. Sam sets the bar high for reliable delivery people.”
Trey smiled. “Understood.”
“I’ll see you around, then.”
Trey nodded, and Laura went back inside the office.
“Wasn’t that amazing?” Cindy leaned on the front desk. “His first A on an essay, can you believe it?”
“It was amazing.” The full circle Ryan took hit her again.
“What do you have there?”
Laura looked at the package in her hand. “It’s for Kim. I’m assuming she’s back there?”
“Yep. She was here on the phone before I got here. I don’t even know who she could be talking to so early.”
“You know Kim.” Laura walked down the hallway. The multimedia classroom took up most of the space to her left, while storage, a restroom, and an office took up the right. The other two offices sat in the back, the right corner office her boss, Kim’s, headquarters.
Laura knocked on the frame of the office’s open door.. Laura always knocked because Kim could get so focused on a task people suddenly appearing in front of her scared the bejesus out of her.
“Morning.” Kim’s dark hair curled under at her shoulders and simple diamond studs gleamed on her pierced ears. Although twenty years older than Laura, hardly a gray streak of hair shone through Kim’s black locks. Meanwhile, Laura had been highlighting her hair since twenty-one. Her brunette hair was losing the fight, and the blond streaks disguised the gray and subsequent root growth better than her natural color. It was a little annoying to be sandwiched between two coworkers whose looks defied their ages.
“Got a package for you.” Laura set it on her desk.
“Any word from Logan?” Kim had a tendency to ask every Monday, but seeing as she led a three-day short course this week, it was the first chance she’d had to ask.
Laura sighed. “So much for work getting my mind off of him.”
“I’m sorry. I just thought he had another week to realize what an idiot he is.”
“Unfortunately, he is still unaware of that fact.”
Kim’s shoulders sagged, clearly disappointed in Logan’s lack of self-reflection.
“You know, I don’t even know if he’s told his friends or family?” Breakups were tough enough. But it thickened the hurt when his work friends, and even his family, had accepted her as one of them. Laura had especially bonded with his mother throughout her battle with cancer. It pained her not knowing how she was doing. “I’m guessing the fact they haven’t contacted me means they do know.”
“They’re probably wincing at his behavior, too embarrassed to admit their poor choice in friends.” Kim winked. “If it makes you feel better, I do have something to keep your mind off of Buttface McGee.”
Laura half chuckled. Kim’s straightforward attitude could be a shocker at times. But Laura also worried what could be up her sleeve.
Kim gestured to take a seat.
Laura obliged, bracing for whatever project Kim had on her mind.
“Beverly and James Bennett contacted me. Apparently, they had a chat over Thanksgiving weekend. Long story short, they came up with the idea of a Holiday Fundraiser.”
“Oh?”
“To benefit the organization.”
“Well, that’s good news, right?”
“I believe so. The Bennetts know a lot of families and have really embraced the ASD community the past few months, ever since introducing us to their granddaughter, Hannah.”
Laura nodded. Hannah had attended a few regional events with her father and sometimes her grandparents. She was a sweet girl; seven or eight years old.
“They want to have a fundraiser here in Charlotte? Let me guess, you’re freaking out because that’s incredibly short notice.”
Kim’s lips curled in a smirk. “I’m not freaking out.”
Laura jumped from her seat. “You want me to do this? Organize a fundraiser? Isn’t that the job of the event manager?”
“You’re right, it is. But seeing as Sophie is currently on maternity leave, our community and regional outreach manager is the next best thing.”
Laura tipped her head back and closed her eyes. It would be short notice, and to get a venue in Charlotte—
“Wait. The Bennetts aren’t from Charlotte. They do mean to have it here, though, right?”
Kim grabbed a folder off her desk and handed it over. “If you head out of here early tomorrow, you should miss the city traffic and get to Waverly Lake in three hours.”
“Are you serious? You’re giving me a day’s notice on this?” Technically, not even a day if she had to leave early tomorrow morning.
“Did you have plans for this weekend?” Kim blinked, hand on her hip.
Laura’s mind reeled. Did Kim even care whether Logan called, or was she just asking to know if Laura’s weekend would be open? No, Kim cared. And she’d also known no plans existed before asking. That was what happened when the boss-employee relationship crossed into friendship.
Laura groaned, flipping through the file folder.
“They’re expecting you tomorrow. The address is in there, as well as your hotel info, along with the groups Beverly Bennett suggested contacting for attendance and spreading the word.”
“Hotel? I can’t drive out and drive back?”
“I have you staying the night. You’ll have to discuss scope and logistics with them so you can help find a venue. Plus, I figured you could use a night away from that apartment. I mean, aren’t you reminded of him with every piece of furniture, every decoration?”
“Of course, I am. It’s just that I don’t have an alternative yet.”
“You do now. At least for one night.” Kim raised her eyebrows.
Laura nodded. “I didn’t get a chance to tell Trey goodbye.”
“Trey? Who is Trey?”
“Sam’s replacement for this week.”
“Who is Sam?”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Our delivery guy. Trey is covering him this week. Poor kid was nervous I didn’t work here and was going to steal your package, but we sorted it out.”
“Your fiancé is nowhere to be found with his lover, you’re still living in his apartment, and you’re worried about not saying goodbye to the temporary delivery boy.” Kim chuckled and shook her head. “You definitely need a night away.”
