“Elise,” I said to the empty room, testing the name again.
It felt wrong and familiar at the same time. Somewhere out there, she was living her life with no idea what I had just agreed to. No idea we shared more than a memory and a fake name. I rubbed a hand over my face and exhaled slow.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
I was engaged to one woman on paper, haunted by another in my head, and then there was Victoria. I had to mentally gear upto deal with her and all the Hargrove bullshit that came with her. None of this shit felt like a life I would’ve chosen for myself, but I had already made my move… now I had to live with it. At least for the next year.
Chapter 11
Noelle
Nikole’s laugh woke me up before my alarm did. I opened my eyes to see her standing in her crib, both hands on the rail, grinning at me through the bars. Her curls were smashed on one side, her Christmas onesie had one snap undone, and she had drool on her chin. Still the cutest thing in my world.
“Good morning, trouble,” I whispered.
She bounced, slapped the mattress with one tiny hand and squealed. The little Santa faces on her pajamas stretched across her belly. Somehow, I blinked and the first ten months of her life had already flown by.I reached for my phone on the nightstand. December twenty-second. Nine seventeen a.m. Almost a year ago, I was in a cabin in North Carolina getting my back blown out by a man I still could not forget. This year, I was in my townhome in Atlanta with a beautiful, curly-haired baby who had his energy in her eyes and my nose on her face. I rolled out of bed, scooped her up, and kissed her cheek.
“You slept good, mama’s girl?”
She grabbed my bonnet and tried to eat it. I carried her to the window and pulled the curtain back with my free hand. My block had lights wrapped around porch rails, fake snowmen inyards, and wreaths on doors. My own wreath hung on the glass, full and green with a big gold bow. Inside, I had a tree standing in the corner of the living room, ornaments from my childhood mixed with the bougie ones I bought last week. It actually felt like Christmas in my house for the first time in years.
“See that?” I whispered against her temple. “That’s all for you, Baby girl.”
She kicked her feet, not understanding a thing and still answering me. I set her down in the crib again, handed her a soft stuffed reindeer, and went to wash my face and brush my teeth. I tied my in a messy bun, slid on fuzzy socks, and came back for her. Today was a wet and cold day so I knew without a day, I would be working from home.
“Alright,” I said, lifting her to my hip. “Let’s go run our little empire.”
By noon, the townhouse was alive. The tree lights were on, Mariah was singing in the background, and a cinnamon candle burned on the counter. Miss Carla, the nanny, sat on the floor in the living room with Nikole, guiding her from the coffee table to the couch. My baby’s steps were still shaky, but she was determined. Every time she let go and took two wobbly steps, she screamed like she had just won a championship.
“You better walk, pretty girl,” I called from the dining table.
My laptop was open, planner stretched out, phone facedown for once. Centerpiece sketches covered one page, payment confirmations on another. This holiday season had been busy as hell. Corporate Christmas parties, ugly sweater brunches, a luxury toy drive, and New Year’s Eve gala that needed three mood boards and a custom cocktail menu. On paper, business was up. Booked and busy. In real life, I was tired down to the bone and still grateful, because every invoice had a purpose now.
Bree walked in without knocking, which she always did. She had her work bag on one shoulder and a bottle of rosé in her hand.
“It’s noon,” I said.
“And?” She held up the bottle. “It’s Christmas-adjacent. Time ain’t real.”
I laughed and shook my head. “You’re sick.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She kissed Nikole’s cheek on her way to the kitchen. “Hey, sunshine.”
Nikole cackled like Bree told a joke.
Bree grabbed two glasses, poured light, and joined me at the table.
“You got garland on the staircase, stockings on the wall, and gift bags under the tree,” she said, looking around. “Look at you. Miss Pinterest Holiday Edition. This the same Grinch that used to pretend December didn’t exist?”
I shrugged. “I have a kid now. I had to get it together. Miss Carla helped me decorate.”
Bree softened. “Well… you ate. It looks damn good in here.” She watched me watch Nikole.
“You still saving everything?”
“Every little thing,” I said. “Videos, dates, notes. I got a whole folder on my phone and on my laptop. If I ever run into her daddy again, he’s gonna see all of it.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, so you ready to present a PowerPoint, huh?”
