CHAPTERONE
Morgan
Ihate Christmas.This time of year makes me itch and I constantly feel as if I’m crawling out of my skin. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great for business. But as far as I can tell, that’s the only upside to this holiday anymore. I hate decorating, but it’s expected in a place like this. If I didn’t, then I would be the only shop in town not decked out in tinsel and twinkle lights. So I play the part. I put on a smile and help everyone and their brother pick out the perfect piece of jewelry, accessory, or other random knick-knack for everyone on their list.
I don’t mind that part at all. Helping a little boy find the most unique, one of a kind necklace for his mom. Or a husband who wants to get his wife something more special than just the standard diamond earrings from a mainstream jewelry store. It’s the holiday music and the obnoxious decorations, the over the top outfits. It’s all of that crap that I can’t stand anymore.
“Do you happen to have anything like this in red?” I snap out of my internal ramblings and turn my attention to the woman holding out the blue scarf. I give her a bright smile and eye her outfit while holding back a laugh. A green crushed velvet turtleneck with a red jean jacket and matching pants. Even her boots are green and blend with her head-to-toe Christmas look perfectly. Perfect example of the obnoxious outfits I can’t stand. I mean hell, we’re in Texas and it sure as hell isn’t cold enough for so many layers right now.
“I don’t have that in red,” I answer her while walking over to one of my other displays, “but I do have it in green.” When I hold out the green silk her face lights up like it’s already Christmas morning.
“That’s perfect!” She snatches the scarf from my hand and continues to flit around the store in excitement and I can’t help but let the small smile pull at my lips. I may hate Christmas personally, but I will never fault anyone else for loving it. I have my own reasons for loathing this time of year, and if I’m being completely honest, it has nothing to do with the holiday itself.
“Hey hey!” The bell over the door chimes as my best friend walks in with way more enthusiasm than anyone should have for a Monday.
“What are you doing here?” It’s rare that I see her during the week, let alone in the middle of the day, unless we make plans for lunch.
“I only had to go in and make sure everything was good to go for the party on Friday. We have the rest of the week off.”
“Wow, Daddy must be feeling generous this Christmas.” I give Jules a humorous smirk which only makes her roll her eyes. We’ve known each other since we were kids and the entire time, it’s never been a secret that her father loves Christmas. The entire Richardson family is kind of obsessed with the holiday. Something I used to find enduring.
“Well, Bryce gets in tonight, so he’s extra excited. The prodigal son returns.” Just hearing his name has my body heating with humiliation and regret.
“I’m surprised they could spare him.” I do everything in my power to make my tone of voice sound casual, but I have no idea if I actually achieve it or not because Jules has honed in on one of the new pairs of earrings I made last week.
“These are gorgeous!” She holds up the rose gold dangling earrings and her eyes light up with excitement, another feeling I absolutely love.
“Everything at the LA office is running smoothly so he was able to leave for a few weeks.” It takes me a moment to realize that she’s responding to my last comment about her brother.
“I’m sure your parents are thrilled.”
Luckily the subject about the one person I hate thinking about drops as she continues to float around the store, looking at the new stuff I just put out this morning. Miss Festive in the head-to-toe red and green comes to the counter with an armful of stuff and I can’t control the bright grin that splits my face.
“I just love your store!” She gushes the entire time I ring up her items and a sense of pride fills me from her words. I love my store, too. Usually when I tell people about the different types of products I sell, they think I’m crazy and always give me that pitying,well I hope it works out for you, look that drives me nuts. It may not be the most traditional idea for a store, especially in this part of Texas. But I’ve managed to turn a pretty decent profit for the past two years. So clearly I’m doing something right.
Once Miss Festive pays and walks out of the store with an overstuffed bag, Jules comes up to the front counter with a few different items and sets them down.
“You know I would just give you that stuff, right?” She always does this. She doesn’t come here too often, because she’s usually working during my business hours, but when she does she always ends up buying a bunch of things and never even lets me give her a discount.
“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t actually support your business?” It’s the same spiel she gives me every time, so I just let her ramble on as I ring up everything she chose. “You’re allowed to give me something for free twice a year, my birthday and Christmas.”
“Yeah yeah yeah.” I finish ringing her up and running her card before I sit on the stool I have next to the counter.
“So what’s the Richardson clan up to this week?”
“The usual.” she shrugs. “My dad’s parents will be in on Thursday and the rest of our extended family will be here on Sunday.”
“Sounds like a good time.”
“I’m just glad that Bryce is able to be here the whole time so I don’t have to face them all alone.” She lets out an exaggerated shudder that I just laugh at. Her dad comes from old money and everyone in their extended family exudes wealth. Like, to a snobbish level. If you don’t have at least seven figures in multiple bank accounts, then you absolutely are not worth their time.
“You know you’re welcome to all of it, right?” She gives me the same tentative look she always does when bringing up family gatherings. She invites me, but it’s been years since I’ve accepted. Her parents have been wonderful toward me and have taken me in as one of their own for years. But every time I’m around her aunts and uncles and grandparents, I always feel inadequate. It wasn’t as bad when I was younger, but now that I’m an adult, it’s like they all think I should just suddenly be wealthy. It’s a lot to handle.
“Thanks.” I don’t elaborate more than that, because I hate disappointing her. Luckily, she knows me better than anyone, so it’s not hard for her to figure out that it’s time to change the subject.
“Well, I better get going.” She starts heading to the door, but stops and turns back to me. “Did you want to get ready together on Friday?” My brows dip in confusion at her question.
“Ready for what?”