“It gets easier,” Maggie said, tone unusually gentle.
Evelyn nodded. “I know.”
“Goodnight, Evie.”
“Goodnight, Mags.”
When Maggie left, Evelyn went back to the dressing room and stared at the new order she’d created. The closet was just hers now. Her suits, her shoes, her space.
She finished the last of the Pinot Noir standing in the doorway, let the city lights glare through the window, and imagined what it would be like not to have to make space for someone else.
It wasn’t as lonely as she’d thought it would be. Evelyn caught her reflection in the darkened window—hair still perfect, makeup barely smudged despite the wine and the tears she hadn’t let fall. The Ice Queen, Maggie had called her. Evelyn wondered when that had become her default setting. When had she decided that being untouchable was the same as being strong?
Her mother had never been cold. Roslyn had loved loudly, messily, with her whole heart. She’d cried at commercials and laughed at her own jokes and hugged strangers at the supermarket. She’d built an empire, yes, but she’d done it with warmth. Evelyn had inherited her mother’s business sense, but somewhere along the way, she’d forgotten how to inherit her zest for life.
Maybe that’s why Mindy had cheated. Not because Evelyn worked too much—though she did—but because Evelyn had never really let her in. She’d kept Mindy at arm’s length, the same way she kept everyone. Safe. Controlled. Lonely.
Evelyn pressed her forehead against the cold glass and made herself a promise: the next person she let into her life, she’d let in properly. No walls. No spreadsheets. No three-month waiting periods.
She’d try to be braver, the way her mother had been brave. But not tonight.
Tonight, she’d finish the wine and go to bed and wake up tomorrow and deal with it then.
One day at a time. That was manageable.
She went to bed, the sound of snoring absent for once. It took a long time to fall asleep, but she didn’t mind the silence.
In the morning, she’d wake up and start over. Maybe she’d even have time for a proper coffee.
And that, Evelyn decided as she drifted off, was reason enough to be okay.
3
Paws, Claus, and Boundary Issues
Alyssa
Alyssa had to stop running her hand through her hair. The more she did it, the bigger her mane got. Unfortunately, it was her way of coping with stress, and, boy, was she feeling stressed.
Deciding to close her dog rescue sanctuary Four Paws over the Christmas period, starting the first of November, was causing her all sorts of bother. Mainly from irritated parents who wanted to get their kid a puppy from Santa.
That was the reason Alyssa decided to shut the sanctuary in the first place. Alyssa was sick and tired of these poor dogs beingcarted back to the centre because the shine of owning a cute dog had worn off as soon as the calendar flipped over to January. Even though Alyssa and her team did the best they could to warn prospective adopters that dogs were a lifelong commitment, and that they needed love and time, it still didn’t stop the poor buggers from being returned.
Everything came to a head eleven months ago. January had just started and, sure as eggs are eggs, in waltzed a man who had adopted a beautiful collie mix called Benson. Alyssa had personally seen to the adoption—which had happened just before Christmas. The process was long and detailed, with Alyssa reiterating several times about Benson’s needs. The time and monetary considerations the family would have to give. How he and his wife would need to make sure their son understood Benson was still a young dog and therefore needed a careful hand. The training it would require for Benson to become a well-rounded pooch.
The guy—Harry—had reassured her repeatedly that they were ready and that their son was more than capable of handling a new puppy. So, Alyssa had allowed him to take Benson home after a house check had been completed. Imagine her shock and anger when Harry came back with Benson a few weeks later, stating that his son couldn’t handle the pup. That they didn’t have the time to get the dog into behavioural classes.
Alyssa had seen red. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Out of fifteen dogs adopted during the run up to Christmas, two-thirds had been returned. That’s when Alyssa knew she had to do something drastic. If she couldn’t talk sense into people, couldn’t get them to see the damage they caused to the animal when they so carelessly returned them, then she’d simply take the option away all together.
For weeks after her blow up, Alyssa brainstormed ideas. Even though she planned to keep the sanctuary closed, she stillneeded to give the dogs daily stimulation, preferably the kind that involved socialising with people. That’s when Lil, her co-manager and friend, had come up with a brilliant idea. Her dad was chummy with the CEO of Crawford’s Pet Supplies, Richard Crawford. Lil suggested contacting him to see if they could arrange some sort of partnership over the Christmas period. What that partnership would look like was a mystery, but at least it was a step in the right direction.
The phone call with Richard Crawford had not gone how Alyssa imagined it wouldat all. Richard was friendly, down-to-earth, and a really nice guy. Not that Alyssa thought he wouldn’t be any of those things, but when she imagined the CEO of a multi-million pound empire, she automatically thought of an uptight powerhouse that wouldn’t give her the time of day.
On the contrary, though, Richard had been so enthusiastic about working with the sanctuary, he made Alyssa laugh. He was like a school kid hopped up on sugar at the idea of it. It was Richard who suggested the dogs be partnered up with workers in the company’s HQ building in London. In fact, Richard threw himself into the organisation of it, leaving Alyssa with very little to do.
Now here she sat on the eve of November the first, arguing with another irate person who couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t let them come to the sanctuary and pick out a dog. Even though Alyssa had put up posters and social media blasts warning the public that the Four Paws Dog Sanctuary would be closed for two months, it still didn’t stop her from getting daily emails and calls.
Instead of arguing, Alyssa should have been going over the schedule for the morning. The team had to transport twenty-six dogs to Crawford’s by eight a.m.
