He thinks for a moment. “Probably something for the station. New equipment for the guys or maybe fund a program for kids to learn fire safety.” His eyes twinkle, lingering on the snowflake before he meets my gaze. “How about you?”
My throat tightens. “I’d want to help families with sick children. Cover medical bills, travel expenses for treatment, whatever they need. Make it so parents don’t have to choose between being with their child and keeping a roof over their heads.” I pause. “My niece, Ruthie, has had some health issues, as I’m sure you know. Watching Brady and Lindy navigate that changed how I see everything.”
“That’s a beautiful gift,” Reese says quietly.
The overwhelming need to be with my family, which made me flee Las Vegas, returns. “Can I use your phone? I want to call everyone and wish them a Merry Christmas.”
He hands it over without hesitation, and I tap Brady’s contact.
My brother answers on the second ring. “Merry Christmas, Reese!”
“It’s me,” I say. “Merry Christmas!”
“Becca!” He sounds surprised. “Merry Christmas! How’s the inn treating you?”
“It’s perfect.” I glance at Reese. “How’s everyone? How’s Ruthie?”
“She’s doing great! Running around with her new toys like a little elf who has eaten entirely too many sweets. The boys are amused. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
Relief floods through me. “Tell her Aunt Becca loves her and that I’m bringing her something special. The boys, too. Hug Mom and Dad. Lindy.”
“Aw, sis. You miss us?”
“Terribly.” My eyes brim with tears.
Reese slides his hand around mine and squeezes.
My brother and I chat for a few more minutes, and when I hang up, my chest aches.
“I know you miss them,” Reese says.
I shake my head. “I was supposed to do that concert tomorrow at the Progress Project Gala, but they don’t actually donate the money they raise. It’s all a sleight of hand, fancy marketing, a big farce. The funds go to administrative costs and executive salaries while they claim to support childhood illness research and pay people like me to perform.”
His jaw tightens. “That’s?—”
“Awful? Yeah. And I was going to be the face of it with my name attached to something that preys on people’s goodness.” I shake my head. “I can’t go back to that life, Reese. I can’t keep doing things that make me feel hollow inside just because someone else thinks it’s good for my brand.”
“Then don’t,” he says simply.
This time, I nod because I don’t plan to be anywhere but with my family tomorrow. “There’s also a New Year’s concert and my fans and?—”
“Your fans love you. They’ll understand if you need to make changes.”
Before I can respond, Noella bursts into the room, her face twisted with panic. “The star! The star is missing from the tree!”
Everyone in the lobby and fireside turns to look. Sure enough, the top of the magnificent Christmas tree stands bare. The spot where the beautiful silver star should be is glaringly empty.
“What happened?” Corbin rushes over.
Noella’s Mrs. Claus outfit jingles with alarm. “I don’t know! It was there this morning during breakfast and now it’s gone!”
Corbin looks genuinely distressed.
Hollis pulls his wife into a comforting hug. “Don’t worry, we’ll find it.”
The guests begin murmuring—was it stolen? Did it fall? Should we call someone?
Reese stands, slipping into rescue hero mode. I have to admit, it’s very attractive. “When was the last time anyone saw it?”
