“So a star it is?”
“Yes. I took him to the store and let him pick one out.” The corners of his mouth tilted upward. “Next year I’d like to return the angel to the top. The one I have came from my great-grandparents. Mawmaw made it during the great depression when there wasn’t money for decorations.”
“I love that. Can I see it one day?”
“Sure. We’ll plan an all-day movie marathon.” He turned and winked right before pulling into the spot from valet parking. “All the Christmas classics.White Christmas,Miracle on 34thStreet,It’s a Wonderful Life.”
Amazing, how well he knew her in a short time. “Don’t forgetHoliday Inn.”
“Of course not.”
“Are you busy next Saturday?” he asked, then moved up a spot in line.
“No, not until the night at least.”
“Ah, yes, the last Saturday before Christmas. That’s your big candy cane push, right?”
“Right.”
“Let’s plan on then, if that’s okay with you.”
“Fine with me.”
He drove forward and shifted into park. “It’s a date. We’ll have pizza delivered and make popcorn. Bring the candy canes, and we can leave from my house.”
Before she could answer, the valet opened her door. She stepped out and joined Donovan on the carpeted walkway and slipped her arm through his when he offered it.
“It’s a date,” she repeated when the doorman opened the antique brass-trimmed double doors.
He responded with a smile and then they were swept into a winter wonderland. A smaller tree than outside stood in the lobby, adorned with strings of electric candles and cranberry garland. Candy canes strategically filled the branches. At the base, a display of a late nineteenth-century village had been created on a bed of the most realistic fake snow she’d ever seen.
Wreaths with holly berries and scarlet bows hung on the wall, spaced at even intervals. The chandeliers had evergreens elegantly woven among their layers. Hidden machines blew snow across the hallway as a player piano at the far end played traditional Christmas carols.
She hummed toThe First Noeland would have been content to stay there and listen all night, but Donovan nudged her and pointed to a sign. “That’s where we’ll be for the evening.”
They entered the room, and Donovan lowered his arm to hold her hand. He guided her through the room, introducing her to his co-workers. She thought back to the many social events she’d attended with Damien. As a husband, she had few complaints about him—after his death, she’d probably been guilty a few times of remembering him with rose-colored glasses—but tonight she remembered one of his flaws.
Whenever he’d had a work function that she attended with him, Damien had a habit of forgetting about her. More times than she could count, she’d sat alone at a table while he mingled and networked. It had annoyed her then, but not to the point of angering her—she knew without a doubt that he loved her and came first in his life. On one occasion, she’d mentioned her frustration to him, and at the next event, he’d barely left her side.
Even so, she liked that Donovan didn’t leave her alone and was an attentive date. She didn’t have to sit at a table making awkward conversation with another employee’s wife she barely knew while wondering when her date would return, or receive the pitiful looks from the happy couple walking by.
He tightened his grip on her hand. “Ready to sit?”
“Yes.” She’d forgotten why she never wore these shoes. They were fine for sitting, but not walking. She’d have blisters in the morning, but if the start of the evening were any indication, they’d be well worth a bit of discomfort.
They found their names at a table on the far right of the room.
Zoe caught a peek at one of the other names. “I know Rita Greene. She volunteers at the shelter, too.”
“That’s Matt’s wife. He’s in charge of printing.” He pulled out her seat for her. “I’m glad you’ll know someone else. They’re good people.”
She sat down, smoothing the skirt of her dress as she lowered herself. Her shawl remained on to ward off the chill in the room. Once more people arrived, the room should warm and then she’d remove it. The small dot on the bottom of her name card drew her attention. Hers was red, Donovan’s green.
Donovan met her gaze and smirked. “Which meal sounds better to you?”
“Whichever one the red dot indicates.” She grinned. “In other words, I still can’t decide.”
The gala began with opening remarks from Leonard Talbot, the oldest living member of the founding family. Zoe listened with rapt attention. The Talbot family legacy would live on for generations to come. She teared up during the slideshow of highlights of the paper throughout the years, from the staff to front pages.
