“No,” she said. “Every year, we add a few ornaments that represent our year. That’s why there are so many, and we need a giant tree. But I’ve been collecting those since January,” she said.
I picked up the Super Bowl ornament, then handed him a familiar-looking box.
He took it and looked at it carefully. “You have a cat?”
“No,” my mother laughed. “That’s Allister.”
His eyes went wide for the millionth time. “You’re adding my cat to your tree?”
“Yes. Right up there with Bella. There’s another one in there.”
I picked up the rugby ball and handed it to him. It was shaped like a rugby ball on one side, but a football on the other. “That’s your ornament, Colin.”
He looked at the ornament for a moment, then went over to hug her. “Thank you for including me.”
She hugged him. “Thank you for making Carson an even better man.”
When we crawled into bed later that night, we opened the draperies and watched the snow fall outside. We were curled around one another after the long day that started with an early practice and a three-hour flight.
“It’s so quiet here with the snowfall. I miss the sound of our ocean,” he murmured.
Our ocean—as if it belonged to only us.
“You’re turning into a romantic.”
He shrugged. “Never thought I was capable of that. Guess you proved me wrong.”
I kissed his neck. “I think it was always there. You just need me to show it.”
He was quiet for a moment, then spoke softly. “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”
“I think so, too.” I kissed the side of his face, then drifted off to sleep.
We spent Christmas Eve doing all the usual Christmas Eve things. My mother had talked Colin into helping her make homemade eggnog.
“I don’t know how to cook,” he announced. “Unless ramen noodles count.”
“They don’t,” she said, handing him the carton of eggs.
His eyes widened in horror as he looked at me, making me laugh.
My dad tapped me on the shoulder and motioned for me to follow him into his office.
“Close the door, please,” he asked as he sat behind his desk. He pulled out a file folder and held it up.
“What’s that?”
“Five months ago, I hired a forensic accountant to go through his accounts. These are the copies of the records of what he found. Or maybe what he didn’t find.”
“Is it bad?”
His normally soft expression hardened. “If all of that is correct, he’s misappropriated quite a bit of money from him. That is above and beyond his 10% commission.”
I wanted to kill that asshole. “What do we do now? How do we prove he’s the one who withdrew the money?”
My father sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Richard will handle it when he’s finished. He deals with a lot of financial crime. He’ll turn it over to the authorities.”
“He didn’t deserve that, Dad. He trusted that guy to take care of his finances.”
