I’ve spent years healing from making myself small for a man who was good on paper, but wrong in every way that mattered. For my family and everyone who puts me in a neat little box for being a politician’s daughter. Here I am, shrinking again.
No more. Kez thinks she won. She made that abundantly clear this morning. Her mugs. Her chair. Her cabin. She sees me as a holiday guest to tolerate until I leave.
I rub my hands together, desperate for the heat simmering in my chest to reach my fingertips. I took a hundred photos today, but my mind has wandered to Kez a thousand times. I’m not the girl she left behind. I’m CharlotteFuckingHarrington. A businesswoman who has traveled the world, helping women feel powerful in their own skin—their masculinity and femininity. Rory’s right. I know how to walk into rooms and own them. Bed & Boudoir is no different. And if Kez wants to play host, then I’ll be the guest she never forgets. Once again, I’ll remind her—and myself—that I’m worth staying for.
I snap one last photo of the winter wonderland, the cabin glowing against the snow, and smile. I’m going to show Kez just how festive my “little picture book” business can be.
CHAPTER 8
KEZ
I’mawake before five in the morning the next day. I hear Ember whine and I slip out of the bedroom before Charlotte stirs. Between the hard floor and how our kitchen conversation circled in my mind all night, I’d pay for a good night’s rest at this point.
When I enter the kitchen, Ember’s already sitting at the door. She turns and her tiny paws pitter-patter, doing her cute potty dance. Still half-asleep, I rub my sore neck and open the door enough for her to walk through.
Ember sticks her nose outside, then immediately retreats. More whining. I gesture for her to go, but her ears flatten.
“Go on,” I encourage her. “It’s just snow. You’ve seen it before.”
She hides behind my leg, following each footstep I take. I didn’t consider this part of the job description. Of course it is. I look up.Oh. There’s eight to twelve inches of snow towering from the ground. Human and dog prints from previous days, gone. This is the most snow I’ve seen in years.
I remember Duke’s first encounter post blizzard and how he barked at the ground until Dad came to his rescue. Dad was always more patient than me, especially with his K-9 partner. He scooped Duke up, showed him there was nothing to fear. OnceDuke realized he was safe, we all laughed while watching the little monster attack the snow.
Ember’s no Duke, but she’s scared like he was and I’m here.
“My puppy’s first real snow,” I catch myself saying the same words my father did to Duke that day. I reach for my necklace. The corner of my eyes crinkle as warmth spreads through my chest. Fully awake now, I forget about the cabin, socks, and even being trapped with Charlotte.
I pick Ember up and scratch behind her ears while carrying her outside. “It’s okay,” I murmur against her soft fur. “We’ve all been there. Come on, I’ll go with you.”
Once outside, I gently set her on the snow, staying where she can see me. Her small body barely crunches through the fluffy surface as she takes one step, then two. Her paw moves again. She faceplants into a drift.
“You got it, little one,” I tell her and believe my words. I let out a chuckle and wait, arms crossed. I take in the scent of fresh, clean winter air. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Ember rises to the occasion, scrambling to her feet. Snow is stuck to her nose and fur. She looks absolutely betrayed. She meets my eyes and I swear she smiles back. She barks and leaps and spins, attempting to eat snowflakes. As she plays, I can’t help my widening smile at her cuteness. It’s only us enjoying the quiet morning. She dives back in, making a puppy snow angel.
After Ember finishes her business, she barks and shakes snow all over my clothes.
“Okay, Miss Wiggle Butt. Let’s go inside before we freeze.” I hold the door open and she leaps through.
Nothing in my K-9 career has gone as expected the last three weeks. Ember’s certainly nothing like Duke. Then again, no dog is. She’ll never be the dog I thought I’d train. I can’t deny that there was something wonderful about being there for her firstreal snowfall. Something I didn’t plan for…and maybe that’s the point.
CHAPTER 9
KEZ
Three days have passed,and I still can’t look Charlotte in the eyes. Or act right—whatever that means anymore. It’s the afternoon and, luckily, I’ve avoided Charlotte while she’s working, which, apparently, includes tormenting helpless women while parading around in lingerie. Keeping myself busy seems to be the only solution.
The last two days, I shoveled snow trails around the cabin, nearly losing my phone in the process. Today, I took Ember on three walks, painted my fingernails green, then yellow again, chopped more wood we don’t need and re-reorganized the kitchen. Anything to avoid thoughts of Charlotte leaning on the refrigerator, making bedroom eyes at me, or how my jaw automatically unhinged for every peice fruit she held to my lips.
By the evening, I cross my second-to-last chore off my invisible list. I stroll through the living room carrying a basket of laundry—Ember’s stolen socks, mostly—and nearly drop it.
Charlotte’s sitting on the floor, spread eagle. There’s a large, wrapped box between her garter belt laced thighs, with a red bow on top, the same color as her heels. Loose curls flow down her shoulders. She’s wearing a Santa hat, and a lace corset hugs her perfectly round breasts. Nothing else.
She clicks a button on a tiny remote and looks up from the camera sitting on a tripod. “Oh, hey.” She laughs. “Marketing doesn’t do itself.”She smiles like this is completely normal, as if she doesn’t look like every fantasy I’ve had over the last three days. “Want to help me unwrap this?”
I take a step and slam directly into the doorframe. The laundry basket crushing my stomach nearly knocks the wind out of me.
Stumbling back, I groan and drop the basket onto the floor. “I’m fine. No, thank you. I have to—Ember needs more water.” Meanwhile, I’m the one with a dry mouth.
