John stiffens beside me, and I brace myself for another round of The Rachel Show.
“Hey, Abby, didn’t you mention earlier how you single-handedly saved that big account last month? The one that almost slipped through the cracks?”
All eyes turn to us, and my face heats up. “Oh, um, it wasn’t that big of a deal—”
“Nonsense.” Pride fills his voice. “You worked overtime for weeks, coordinating with the corporate headquarters to land that client. It was impressive.”
The room falls silent, and Rachel’s frown deepens. She’d better be careful or she’ll need extra Botox sessions before the New Year.
“Well.” Mom breaks the silence. “That does sound impressive, dear. Why didn’t you tell us?”
I shrug, feeling uncomfortable under the sudden attention. “It’s just part of the job.”
John squeezes my hand. “A job you excel at.”
The oven timer buzzes, saving me from responding. “I need to check the turkey.”
With that, I hurry to the kitchen. A peek at the thermometer tells me the turkey has finished cooking, but my mind is full of questions. Why did John say that? Was it just part of our act, or was there something more to it? And why did it make me feel so…seen?
I don’t enjoy being on display like that, especially after a lifetime of living in Rachel’s shadow, but it was sweet of him to do that for me.
“Need any help?” John asks, making me jump.
“Warn a girl next time.” I clutch my chest dramatically. “No, I’ve got it under control. But thank you for what you said in there.”
John’s expression softens. “I meant every word. You’re incredible at what you do, and it’s about time your family knew it.”
That connection between us returns. This time, the world fades away, and it’s just us in this kitchen, surrounded by the warm scents of Christmas dinner.
Rachel cackles, breaking the spell. I shake my head, trying to clear whatever just happened between John and me. “Do you want to carve the turkey?”
“Your dad doesn’t do that?”
“Dad knows better than to step foot in Mom’s kitchen unless she’s gone.”
“I’d be happy to carve the turkey. Unless you’d rather pretend it’s your sister while you do the honors.”
I laugh so hard tears roll down my face. “That shouldn’t be so funny.”
John shrugs. “She’s earned it.”
She has, but… “You carve. Otherwise, I might go a little crazy with the electric knife.”
With a nod, he moves toward the golden bird cooling on the stovetop. I have more things to do for dinner, but I can’t stop staring at him. The more time I spend with John, the more I wish he wasn’t my boss and was really my boyfriend.
Which tells me being at home for the holidays might be pushing me toward a breakdown.
CHAPTER SIX
Abby
In the dining room, the table is full of six place settings and delicious-smelling food. Crystal glasses reflect the flames of red tapers nestled among pine boughs and gilded pinecones. I must admit everything looks magazine-spread lovely, upscale from our Christmas tree.
I sit next to John, ignoring how Rachel holds court at the head of the table, which used to be Dad’s spot. Mom fusses with her bread plate before settling into her chair.
Dad raises his glass. “A toast to family, both old and new.” He nods at John, who raises his own glass in acknowledgment. “And to love, in all its forms.”
We clink glasses, the crystal chiming. As I sip wine, Rachel eyes John speculatively.
