Christmas With Carlie. Julianna MorrisЧитать онлайн книгу.
“MR. FORRESTER?”
Luke jerked, realizing he’d been staring into space, thinking about Erika again.
“Yes, Tilly?” he asked, shaking his head to clear it.
“I’ve made all the holiday arrangements you requested, but I wish you’d reconsider.”
Her face was tense and she only called him Mr. Forrester when she was annoyed. Tilly Robinson had been with him since soon after he’d started his business and often acted more like a mother hen than an executive assistant. Most recently she had been encouraging him to take his daughters away for Christmas. Maybe she was right. Beth and Annie were hurting over their mother’s death and no words seemed to comfort them.
Hell, he didn’t understand.
He’d never expected to fall in love with a soldier, but he hadn’t been able to ask Erika to give up something she’d believed in, even after their twin daughters were born. Her father and grandfather had served in the army and she’d prepared her whole life to follow in their footsteps. The night he’d proposed, Erika had reminded him that it couldn’t always be someone else’s husband or wife or daughter who served.
The sound of a throat clearing made Luke realize his thoughts had drifted yet again. He looked into Tilly’s determined eyes. “Why are you so sure that going away is the right idea? Even the grief therapists I’ve consulted can’t agree.”
“I’m not sure, but hanging around Austin hasn’t done you much good,” she replied bluntly. “How long has it been since you got a full night’s sleep?”
Longer than he could remember.
If he slept, he dreamed about his wife, especially their last vacation. The twins had been five and Erika had managed to get leave from her unit in the Middle East. She’d met them in Italy. They’d spent two weeks with the girls, exploring Tuscany. Three months later, an army notification team had shown up, regretfully informing him that his wife had died in the line of duty.
Telling Annie and Beth had been the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. The look on their faces had haunted him ever since. It was as if they’d retreated into themselves and he didn’t know how to bring them back.
“I’ve never slept that much, Tilly, you know that. And it’s Beth and Annie that matter.” Luke tossed his pen onto the desk. “Do you have a place in mind for your great plan?”
“I’m sure we can come up with something.”
His first thought was the large villa he’d rented for the family in Tuscany. The twins had enjoyed the indoor pool and the villa had come fully staffed. He shook his head. What was he thinking? Italy was the last place they’d seen Erika. It would simply remind them that she wasn’t there.
“Maybe the Caribbean,” he mused.
“Absolutely not,” Tilly told him sharply. “That’s where you went that time Erika’s leave was revoked. And don’t suggest the French château you went to three years ago, either. You should go somewhere completely new. Take a look at this.” She slapped a paper down on his desk.
It was a printout from the website of a place called Poppy Gold Inns on the West Coast.
“California?”
Tilly’s eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing wrong with California. As a matter of fact, General Pierson’s aide recommended Poppy Gold the last time we spoke. I’m sure I can clear your appointment and meeting schedule for the next month.”
“A month?” he repeated. “How did we go from getting out of town for Christmas to a whole month?”
“It has to be long enough to do some good. Better yet, stay a week or two into the New Year. They have a fully equipped business center, so you’d be able to handle anything urgent that comes up.”
“Let me take a look.”
Luke turned to his computer and pulled up the website for Poppy Gold Inns, where the holidays—both Thanksgiving and Christmas—were the main theme. According to the description, the entire historic district of a town in the California Gold Country had been converted to a group of bed-and-breakfast inns. In the pictures, Poppy Gold Inns was a quaint Victorian village, decorated to the nines with holly, evergreen and red velvet bows.
“I don’t see any snow,” he said, “so it obviously wouldn’t be a white Christmas.”
Tilly snorted. “When was the last time we had a white Christmas in Austin, Texas? Down here, it’s Santa Claus in a cowboy hat, driving a stagecoach. Stop procrastinating. I’ve checked and one of the houses is available.”
“You’ve already checked? Let me guess—you’ve already reserved it, too.”
“Of course. I didn’t want anyone else to take it while you were dragging your feet. It needed a referral from General Pierson’s office, so the clock was ticking.”
Luke’s jaw tightened. Maybe a change would be best for the girls.
For him, too.
“All right, clear my calendar from the last week of November through the first week of January,” he told her. “We’ll take the jet and leave the day after Thanksgiving.”
Tilly pursed her lips. “What about your parents? They planned to be in Austin until the twenty-fifth.”
Luke loved his mother and father, but they could be something of a trial. Craig and Heather Forrester both had generous trust funds, but when he was a kid, they’d always spent their annual allowance within nine or ten months. He’d hated the way they lived off their wealthier friends the rest of the year. Luke’s grandparents on both sides had given up on them before his sister, Nicole, was born, being people who heartily disapproved of a frivolous lifestyle. He barely remembered them.
“Get my parents invited to an embassy dinner in Washington. They’ll regretfully call off their trip to Austin.”
Craig and Heather’s latest goal was getting appointed to a diplomatic post. They were effortlessly charming, so it was possible, but he doubted they understood that being in the diplomatic corps required actual effort. Work wasn’t a concept they grasped well.
“Which embassy?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just find one that’s having a party. I’ll ask my sister if she wants to come with us to California.”
“You’ll also need a tutor for the girls so they don’t get behind in school.” Tilly made a note on her pad. “Anything else?”
“Not right now, but I hope this bed-and-breakfast place has decent plumbing.”
Tilly looked smug. “If they don’t, you can fire me.”
“I’ve fired you a hundred times. You refuse to go.”
“That’s what makes me such a valuable employee... I don’t listen to a word you say.”
He smiled faintly. Tilly was more valuable to him than a thousand other employees and