She promised to talk to Jonny about the work area where the toys were so they could decide how many people would be helpful and at what point there would be too many hands to be efficient. Conversation shifted to more personal topics. Isabel teased Taryn about what designer something Angel would be getting her this year while Noelle and Bailey discussed the best brunch casserole for post-present-opening Christmas morning.

After lunch, Shelby walked out with Madeline.

“You okay?” her friend asked as they crossed the street.

“Still feeling horrible about forgetting the toys.”

“You know the problem’s going to be fixed, right? You aren’t the Grinch.”

“I was so caught up in the guy that I let something important go.”

Shelby waited until they were on the sidewalk before facing her. “Stop beating yourself up. Honestly, when was the last time you were this crazy about someone?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Exactly. So enjoy every minute of it. It’s the holidays. You’re allowed to have a good time. The toys will get painted, children will be happy and you still get to have hot monkey sex with you-know-who.”

Madeline hugged her friend. “You’re a very nice person.”

“So I’ve been told.”

They started walking again. Madeline unfastened her jacket. “It’s really warm. I can’t believe that two days ago we were in the middle of a blizzard. It has to be at least fifty degrees.”

“It’s very strange weather,” Shelby said. “The weather guy said it was going to stay warm through tomorrow and then we get sideswiped by a polar vortex. So there’s still a possibility of a white Christmas.”

“I hope we get at least a light dusting. The kids always love that.” Not to mention how beautiful Ginger’s wedding would be.

They reached Paper Moon. Shelby smiled. “You okay? I don’t have to worry that you’ll be beating yourself up all afternoon?”

“I have a couple of appointments, so I won’t have time for major guilt. But I will probably still have a little self-loathing.”

“As long as it doesn’t go on too long. You’re a good person, too. It’s okay to mess up once in a while. Everyone still loves you.”

“Thanks.”

Madeline went into the store and walked to her office. After hanging up her coat, she turned to her desk. Sitting next to her keyboard was a small gold box. She recognized it as coming from the local candy store.

Inside was one perfect, dark chocolate truffle. Her favorite kind. There wasn’t a note, but she knew who had delivered the sweet to her. Because Jonny was nothing if not thoughtful.

Talk about hard to resist, she thought as she put the truffle in her desk drawer. How was she supposed to keep things light when every time she was around him, he got better and better?

If only... If only he wanted something more. An impossible dream, she told herself firmly. Even if this was Christmas, and a time for miracles.

TWELVE

“YOU KNOW YOU don’t have to be here, right?” Madeline asked in a low voice.

Jonny grinned at her. “I can’t help myself. It’s better than reality television.”

“It’s a meeting about the Live Nativity. How is that compelling?”

“I want to hear the discussion on which animals will be allowed. Plus, who knows what Eddie and Gladys will get up to.”

“You so need to get back to work.”

He winked. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

That was truer than he knew, she thought, determined to stay positive and hopeful.

Eddie and Gladys walked into the conference room. They glanced around, saw Jonny and walked over to sit across from him.

“It’s too hot outside,” Gladys said, slipping out of her coat. “It’s nearly Christmas. The snow’s melting.”

“It’s supposed to get cold again soon,” Madeline told her.

“I hope you’re right. Seasons exist for a reason.”

“Don’t mind her,” Eddie said. “She’s having a personal summer moment.”

Madeline wasn’t sure what to say to that and she couldn’t begin to imagine what Jonny must be thinking. But he’d been the one who had wanted to stay, so it served him right.

“Nice shirts,” Jonny said.

Madeline saw the two old ladies were in their finest bowling shirts. The pink ones that had their team name embroidered in bright, tall letters.

“Hot Young Things,” he read aloud. “Good marketing.”




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