CHAPTER NINE

John

Powerfluff’s rampage left a mess in the Sinclairs’ living room. The tree is upright again, but garland lies on the floor and shattered ornaments crunch underfoot. The scent of pine from a candle mingles with burnt coffee—the pot forgotten in the chaos.

I stand amid the wreckage, still reeling from the mistletoe kiss with Abby. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I forced myself to back away from her. Otherwise, we’d still be kissing.

As Abby corrals Powerfluff, her gaze flicks over to me. Each glance sends a jolt of electricity through my body. Having a crush on her was one thing, but spending non-work time with her tells me she’s perfect. My crush is turning into something more, and that should bother me more than it does.

I’m her boss, and that’s not good.

Okay, it’s bad. Bad with a capital B.

The last time this happened, I wasn’t even Bella’s boss and it turned into a disaster. Thankfully, Abby seems to be nothing like my ex-girlfriend.

“Well”—Rachel’s voice cuts through the din, dripping with sarcasm—“that was certainly festive.”

I turn to see her perched atop an armchair, Jake hovering nearby like a confused bodyguard.

“Come on, Rach.” Abby holds Powerfluff. The cat seems to be proud of herself, which I must respect. “It’s not Christmas without a little excitement.”

Rachel sniffs, clearly unimpressed. “Your idea of excitement is different from mine. Some of us prefer our holidays without property damage.”

Protectiveness surges. I have to say something. “They say animals are excellent judges of character. Maybe Powerfluff wanted to liven up things.”

The living room falls silent. Abby’s eyes widen. Clearly unused to being challenged, Rachel opens her mouth and then closes it like a fish.

Abby places Powerfluff on the stairs, and the cat runs to the second floor.

Mrs. Sinclair comes in with another pot of fresh coffee. “Anyone need a refill?”

That seems to be her way of breaking the tension, though I’m not sure it’s working as well this time.

Abby and I steal glances at each other. I should feel like I’m back in high school, but something has shifted between us. I can’t put a name on it nor am I certain how to navigate it. I just hope that whatever has happened is a positive step.

“Oh, Sis,” Rachel says in a tone that sounds fake. “You’re going to be my maid of honor.”

“The two of you will look pretty up at the altar,” Mrs. Sinclair says a beat later, suggesting to me this was planned somehow.

Abby freezes—a good thing or she might’ve dropped the tree topper she has in her hands. “No, thank you.”

Her words are staccato sharp, and a part of me worries if that topper is about to turn into a weapon. Not that I’d blame Abby.

Rachel pouts like she’s a child, not a grown adult. “You can’t say no.”

“You really can’t, Abby,” Mrs. Sinclair agrees.

Abby shrugs, but her lips are pressed tightly together. “I have…work commitments and other things.”

Rachel makes a face. “You don’t even know the wedding date yet.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Abby hands the tree topper to her dad. “I have responsibilities.”

“Oh, please.” Rachel rolls her eyes. “What’s more important than your only sister’s wedding to the love of her life?”

“Nothing is more important than your sister’s wedding,” Mrs. Sinclair adds.

Abby’s gaze bounces between the two women. Without a word, she dashes up the stairs, leaving her family stunned and watching her escape.

“So rude.” Rachel sighs. “I thought Abby would be honored I picked her.”

“It’s a nice gesture,” Jake says. “But don’t forget, she and I dated for more than two years. Knowing Abby, I doubt she’ll want to be a part of the wedding or even attend.”

Both Rachel and Mrs. Sinclair gasp, but I’m impressed Jake isn’t as stupid as he seems. Still, anyone who would pick the pampered brat older sister over Abby is lacking in the brain cell department.

Mrs. Sinclair’s face reddens. “Abby might not want to be Rachel’s maid of honor, but she will be at the wedding.”

Rachel nods. “Do you know what people will say if Abby isn’t in the wedding party? The gossip would ruin us. Mom, Dad, you have to force Abby to be my maid of honor.”

“I’d be careful if I were you.” The words pop out of my mouth before I can stop them, but I’m Team Abby, and someone around here needs to stick up for her besides Powerfluff. I have no doubt the cat made a mess on purpose to get back at her family, and I’ll be buying her treats or a new toy, whatever she wants.

Rachel’s gaze narrows. “What do you mean by that?”

I shrug. “Just that Abby might tell everyone how she found you, her sister, with Jake, her boyfriend at the time, during her maid of honor speech. I imagine there’d be a lot of talk if that happens.”

“She wouldn’t.” Rachel practically spits the word, but then she looks worriedly at her mom and Jake. “Would she?”

As they debate Abby’s loyalty to the family, who treats her worse than a stray cat looking for scraps, I follow her lead and head upstairs. Once again, I’ve had enough of this family. Self-centered doesn’t begin to describe Rachel. She’s a galaxy unto herself. I have no idea why her parents and Jake put up with her the way they do.

The guest room door is ajar, so I don’t knock. Abby is sitting on the bed with Powerfluff.

I take a spot next to her, noticing the wet tissue wadded up. I don’t ask if she’s okay, because I know the answer. “Hey.”

Her eyes gleam with tears. “I can’t believe them.”

“Not sure I made things better after you left,” I admit.

She blows her nose. “What happened?”

“I told them Rachel might think twice about having you as her maid of honor because you could tell everyone how you found her with Jake, your boyfriend at the time, during your speech.”

Abby laughs, and the sound brings me so much relief. I don’t want her to spend Christmas Day crying. “I never thought of that. Not that I want to be at the wedding at all.”

“Don’t blame you.”

“I don’t know why I let Rachel get to me like this. Every time, I tell myself it’ll be different. But…”

“It’s always the same,” I finish.

She nods, sniffling.

I want to ask the question that’s been on my mind since last night. “Why do you let your family treat you so badly?”

She raises her chin. “You’ve treated me badly since you started at the office. Why would it be different here?”

I flinch. “I…”

Words fail me. She’s right, and I feel horrible. But how I feel doesn’t matter. This is about her. I was a jerk at work to keep anyone from seeing how much I liked her. Never once did I consider how my treatment would make her feel.

“I’m so sorry, Abby.” A part of me wants to tell her about my crush, but I’m not sure this is the right time. Still, I need to say something more about my behavior. “I’ve never been a manager before and have a lot to learn. I hope you forgive me.”

She rubs Powerfluff, and the silence in the bedroom intensifies. It’s uncomfortable, and the tension in the air is palpable.

Maybe I need to say more… “Abby—”

“You’re forgiven, but you need to work on your managerial skills.” Her tone is one hundred percent professional, as if she’s compartmentalizing her emotions. “Mr. Patella wasn’t perfect, but he always kept his door open and was friendly to everyone.”

Okay, I get that. Her ex-boss had people skills. I have none, but I’m still better than he was at numbers. The office is back to making a profit each month since I took over. “Would you help me do better? At work, that is.”

I don’t know why I clarify what I mean. She’s smart enough to figure it out.

Her gaze remains on mine. “Yes, I’ll help you, and in your defense, you’ve never been as bad as Rachel.”

“Thank you.” Relief makes me relax, and I take a deep breath. “This isn’t nice to say, but your sister is a real jerk.”

Abby stares at me, and I wonder if I’ve been too honest with her. Then she bursts out laughing. Her belly laughs bring more tears to her eyes, only these tears I don’t mind.

“Oh my goodness, she really is.” Abby gasps between giggles. “I’ve been waiting for someone else to agree with me about that.”

The switch in the air from tense to funny is so immediate I feel lost for a minute, but then I recover and grin. “I agree. And trust me, you’re the catch in this family.”

Her laughter fades, replaced by wide-eyed surprise. “Y-you really think that?”

I nod, feeling exposed. I still feel like I’m walking a tightrope between being her boyfriend—make that fake boyfriend—and her boss. This requires boss mode. “As I said last night, you’re smart, kind, and hardworking.”

Her smile lights up her face, and I move closer to her and gather my courage.

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

Abby’s forehead creases. “Huh?”

“I mentioned going to my grandparents house today. They’re hosting our family Christmas celebration today. Everyone is welcome.” The words rush out, and I force myself to slow down. “Would you like to come with me?”

Her lips form a perfect O. “Really? You want me to come?”

I nod, nervous but excited to introduce her to my family. “Absolutely. It’ll be fun, I promise. And you need to get away from here. At least for a few hours.”

She bites her lip. “My family will be upset if we just leave.”

“I’ll explain it to them. Your mom seemed thrilled you brought someone home. I’m sure she’ll understand if we want to split our time between families.”

Abby’s face softens. “That’s so sweet of you to offer. Are you sure your family won’t mind?”

I imagine how happy my family will be. It might cause problems later, but I don’t care. Abby needs this, and I want it, too. “Trust me, they’ll be thrilled. My grandmother asked me to bring someone home.”

A smile tugs at Abby’s lips. “Okay. Let’s do it. I’ll lock Powerfluff in the room, and we can pick her up on the way home.”

We head downstairs to tell her family we’ll be leaving soon, and Abby holds my hand. She takes a breath. “Mom, Dad, John and I are going to visit his grandparents. They’re having a Christmas celebration, and—”

“What?” Rachel’s indignant squawk cuts Abby off. “You can’t leave! It’s Christmas!”

Mrs. Sinclair appears crestfallen, which I don’t understand at all given how she treats Abby. “But, sweetie, we always spend Christmas together as a family.”

I step forward to smooth things over. “We’ll only be gone for a few hours. We thought it would be nice to split our time between both families.”

Rachel stands, her face flushed with anger. “This is just like you, Abby. Always trying to steal the spotlight from me. First, you bring home a boyfriend out of nowhere, and now you’re abandoning us on Christmas?”

Abby tenses and hunches over. “This has nothing to do with you. We thought—”

“You thought what? That you could waltz in here with your perfect boyfriend and your perfect life and make me look bad?” Rachel’s voice sharpens, her words becoming almost hysterical. “Well, guess what? It’s not working. I know you pretend to have it all together when you don’t. I’m sure Mom and Dad realize it, too.”

The room goes silent, and the tension is palpable. Abby’s face flickers with shock, hurt, and then determination.

“You know what, Rachel?” Abby’s voice is steady and clear. She squares her shoulders. “I don’t have it all together, but I don’t need to tear down my sister to feel good about myself.”

Rachel flinches. “How dare you—”

“No,” Abby interrupts. “You’re not making me feel small any longer. John and I are going to his grandparents’ house, and by the time we come back to pick up Powerfluff, I hope you remember what Christmas is really about. Here’s a hint: it’s not all the expensive presents you got.”

Abby turns on her heel and marches upstairs, presumably to get her purse. I remain there, caught between admiration for Abby and discomfort at the family drama unfolding before me.

Mrs. Sinclair wrings her hands. “John, dear, I’m so sorry about all this. Please don’t think badly of us.”

“Family can be…complicated. We’ll be back before you know it.”

As I head upstairs to make sure Abby is okay, Rachel’s sobs punctuate the air.

“Shh, honey, it’s okay.” Jake says, loud enough I can hear him. “Your sister didn’t mean—”

“She’s ruined everything,” Rachel yells. “How dare she do this to me? On Christmas, when we need to make wedding plans.”

I stop on the landing, torn between guilt and a sense of justice. Part of me feels bad for causing such chaos in the Sinclair household. But a larger part is proud of Abby for finally standing up for herself.

“Please calm down, sweetheart,” Mrs. Sinclair says. “If we all talk—”

“Talk?” Rachel scoffs. “There’s nothing to talk about. Abby made her choice. She chose him over her own family.”

I wince at the venom in her voice and continue up the stairs.

“Now, Rachel, that’s not fair,” Mr. Sinclair adds in a measured tone. “Abby has a right to make her own decisions.”

“But, Dad.” Rachel’s voice reaches new octaves. “It’s Christmas. I just got engaged. She can’t just leave.”

I shake my head, marveling at the family dynamics as I reach Abby’s bedroom door. Taking a deep breath, I knock gently.

“Abby? You ready?”

“Come in. I’m packing my things so I’m ready to go when we pick up Powerfluff.” She shoves clothes into her suitcase. Her eyes gleam with tears. “I can’t believe Rachel said I had the perfect life. I don’t know why she said that because she’s the one who claims everything in her life is perfect. But I’ve never spoken to her like that. I’m not sure what came over me, but is it wrong it felt good?”

“Not wrong. You’d had enough.” I hug Abby, and she stiffens before melting against me and wrapping her arms around me. “I’m proud of you.”

She looks up at me. Our faces are inches apart. I want to close the distance.

A knock at the door makes us jump apart.

“Abby?” Mr. Sinclair asks. “Can I come in?”

Abby clears her throat, her cheeks flushed. “Sure, Dad.”

Mr. Sinclair enters, looking sheepish. “Have a good time at John’s grandparents’ house. I’m sorry about Rachel. You know how she gets.”

Abby’s expression softens. “Thanks, Dad. We’ll be back later, okay?”

He nods, then hugs Abby, surprising us both. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

Abby forehead creases, and she stares at her father with a puzzled expression. “Um, thanks?”

The way she says the words as a question let’s me know she’s as taken aback by his words, as I am. How can her father be proud of her, given the way he’s treated her since we arrived last night. The special book he gave to Jake was the proverbial icing on the cake for me, and based on her reaction, I can safely assume Abby feels the same way.

“Be good, Powerfluff,” Abby says, looking under the bed. “We’ll see you later.”

Downstairs, the atmosphere is less tense. Rachel is nowhere to be seen, and Jake appears uncomfortable as he tells us to have a good time.

Mrs. Sinclair fusses over us, insisting we take some leftovers for the road. As we step out into the cold air, a weight lifts from my shoulders.

Abby takes a deep breath. “Ready for another family adventure?”

I take her hand in mine. “With you? Always.”

As we walk to my car, our feet sink into the newly fallen snow. I glance at Abby. It’s strange after what has happened with her family, but this Christmas is turning out to be one of the best.