Owen's siblingswere waiting in the garage with a luggage cart when we returned.
“Wow, Owen took you in the only practical car he owns,” Jack remarked.
“This also happens to be the only car I own that is not covered in sugar or one of its derivatives,” he said dryly.
“Again, I am sorry about that. Though the bikini car wash offer still stands!” I elbowed Owen. “That perked you up, didn't it?”
Owen's brothers snickered and finished loading up the cart.
The penthouse was just as large and airy as I remembered it. We lugged all the food in. The Christmas decorations were up, and the tree sparkled. It felt homey and festive. Jack's dog, Milo, was playing tug-of-war with Rudolph. They growled playfully around a squeaky snowman toy.
Owen’s younger brothers went back to watching the soccer game on TV while Jonathan poured drinks.
“I was told that there was a Christmas party tomorrow and that you make amazing cookies. I humbly offer myself in service,” Jonathan told me seriously.
“Ignore him,” Jack said. “He can't even cook an egg.”
“Chloe sent you over here by yourself?” Owen asked Jack.
“She's coming later. I told her about your restaurant,” Jack said to me. “She said she'll be happy to help you in any way possible.”
Owen's phone rang, and he went to take the call.
His sister, Belle, smiled at me. “I'm glad you're here. You make Owen really happy.”
“He makes me happy too!”
“The last episode ofThe Great Christmas Bake-Offis airing later,” she reminded me. “If you're not all baked out!”
“I will never have too much baking. We are so having a viewing party!”
76
Owen
Listening to Holly talk so warmly about her grandmother had given me an idea for a good Christmas present. This was the call I needed to make it happen. I drank a sip of whiskey then answered the phone.
“Thanks for calling me, Morticia.”
She didn't say a word. Her disapproval wafted through the phone.
“I called you because I need a favor,” I continued.
“I did you a solid by not taking a baseball bat to your fancy-pants cars,” she retorted. “I think I showed considerable restraint.”
“Look, we both care about Holly, correct?”
She sighed. “Correct.”
After I did some more begging and promising to never hurt Holly and to treat her like a princess, Morticia finally gave me the information I needed. As I obviously couldn't summon Holly's grandmother here for Christmas, I was going to do the next best thing.
After calling the storage company where Holly's grandmother's things were being held, I was especially glad I’d had the stroke of inspiration. The storage facility said they were owed thousands of dollars on the unit and they were going to auction the unit off in the next few days. I paid the balance due then found a moving company that could have everything at my penthouse by Christmas Eve—tomorrow.
Holly was mixing up a big batch of cookies when I was done with my phone calls.
“Are those the famous sugar cookies?” Oliver asked, padding over to the kitchen island. He reached for my drink. I slapped his hand away.
“You're too young.”
