One month after walking into Hotel Caroline, a day that happened to be my thirtieth birthday, I handed a check for almost five-million dollars over in exchange for the deed to a hot mess of a hotel. It was the first time I’d touched a dime of the trust fund my grandfather had created as my compensation for being a body of spare parts for my sister.
As a courtesy, that afternoon I’d called my grandfather and father to tell them I’d gone out on my own. Neither had really gotten over what I’d pulled with The Countess. But letting them know felt like the right thing to do.
Neither wished me luck. They also didn’t try to tell me I’d made a mistake. Honestly, they didn’t give two shits. Not to mention, neither remembered it was my birthday. Good riddance. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.
Later that night, I went to see Sophia and celebrated being free exactly the way I’d wanted to—a good fight with my girl. She’d been a little upset that I hadn’t mentioned any of my plans to her until after it was too late. I’d bought a rundown hotel and basically excommunicated myself from my family without saying a word.
To this day, I’m not sure exactly why I did that. Maybe I was afraid she would try to talk me out of it, or maybe it was just something I needed to do on my own. Either way, she wasn’t happy about being kept in the dark. Though she’d forgiven me by the time I gave her three orgasms and untied her.
“So what brings you down here, Louis?” I asked. “Everything still set for tonight at The Countess?”
“Everything is perfect. The maintenance crew started putting things together the minute Sophia left for the airport yesterday. It’ll be all set up by the time you arrive tonight.”
“Great. Thank you.”
Louis had a small, brown paper bag in his hand. He extended it to me. “Thought you might like this. I found it in one of the boxes we pulled from storage.”
My brows drew together. “What is it?”
“A Christmas gift I gave Grace in 1961. I’d forgotten all about it. But take a look. I thought it might be pretty damn fitting for the occasion tonight.”
Inside the paper bag, a glass ornament was wrapped in old newspapers. At first, I didn’t get the significance, but when I turned it around and saw what was painted on the other side, I looked up. “Holy shit.”
Louis smiled. “Life’s a giant circle, isn’t it? Sometimes we think we’ve reached the end and closed the loop, only to realize we’ve arrived back at the beginning again. Good luck tonight, son.”
***
Sophia
I watched from the airport escalator with a smile as Weston scanned the crowd, looking for me. Even if he hadn’t been the tallest person in most rooms, he’d stick out above the rest. There was something so magnetic about him. Sure, he was tall, dark, and handsome—that went without saying. But that wasn’t what set him apart. It was the way he carried himself—feet planted wide, chin held high, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that matched the cocky grin that always seemed to threaten at the corners of his lips. He stood in baggage claim, holding a bunch of flowers, and I was certain the hearts of a few women in the vicinity were going pitter-patter at the scene.
Halfway down, he spotted me, and his ever-threatening grin burst into a full smile. We’d been together more than a year and a half now, and it was almost a year since we’d taken the leap and moved in together, yet his sexy smile could still melt my panties. He strode through the arrival area toward the escalator, his eyes never leaving mine.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, smiling as I stepped off.
Weston took my suitcase, snaked his arm around my waist, and pulled me to him. “I was anxious to see you.”
He kissed me as if I’d been gone a month, though I’d just left to visit my grandfather yesterday morning. “Well, this was a nice surprise. Thank you for picking me up.”
Outside the airport, I yanked my coat closed. “I’m definitely not in Florida anymore.”
“Yeah. Supposed to get snow tomorrow.”
“Oooooh. I’d love that. I hope it sticks around for Christmas so we can have a white one.”
“Sweetheart, if it snows tomorrow and it’s still around in two weeks, it’s gonna be a dirty, gray Christmas.”
I pouted. “Don’t ruin my dream just because you’re Scrooge.”
“I’m not Scrooge.”
“Oh good. So then can we finally decorate the apartment this weekend?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I knew the holidays were a tough time of the year for Weston, because decorating reminded him of Caroline. But I wanted to do more than we’d done last year, which was not much.