A Christmas Temptation

Sophie turned off the light. She wasn’t ready to use Gram’s office. She might never be. It would only make her feel sad and inadequate. She could just imagine the looks on people’s faces when they walked into the room and realized that the woman sitting behind the desk did not possess the gravitas of her predecessor.

Instead, Sophie ducked into an empty cubicle hidden behind the reception area. She dialed the number for her sister, Mindy, who answered right away.

“Lizzie said you aren’t coming in today. Why not?” Sophie asked.

“Because it’s December and one of our high-production printers is broken and my team is struggling to fill orders. I don’t have time to spend at Eden’s.” Mindy had her own successful business, By Min-vitation Only, an online shop that sold high-end custom cards and invitations. “Everyone needs their Christmas cards yesterday. It’s a madhouse over here.”

“Oh. Okay. I understand.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Soph. You knew this was going to happen. You knew I couldn’t simply drop everything and take on new responsibilities. I appreciate that you’re steering the ship at Eden’s until Gram’s will is read, but I need you to accept the reality of our situation.”

“And what is that exactly?” Sophie crossed her legs and bobbed her foot, stealing a glimpse of her red pumps. God, she loved those shoes. Mr. Blahnik was a genius.

“Today is our reality. I am too busy to play a role in the store. Today I’m dealing with Christmas, but after that is New Year’s and Valentine’s Day. There is no downtime for me. I’ve worked hard to build my business, and I’m not stepping away from it.”

Sophie understood her sister’s predicament and her argument. She did. She just wished it wasn’t the case. Now that Gram wasn’t around to offer advice and solve problems, Sophie was perpetually out of her depth. And alone.

“Eden’s is a lost cause, Soph. You’ll be much happier when you just admit it,” Mindy said.

“It is not. Gram didn’t think so, and I don’t think so, either. We can turn it around. Our earnings were up two percent last quarter.”

“And my earnings were up twenty.”

Way to rub it in my face. “I get it, Mindy. But this is our family business.”

“I’m family. And I have a business. I’m telling you, as soon as the will is read, you and I need to sell Eden’s to the highest bidder, pocket the cash, and then you need to come work for me. Easy peasy. We’ll both have it made.”

Mindy made it sound so simple and obvious, but she hadn’t made promises to their grandmother. She hadn’t spent the last three years working for Gram, learning and growing and soaking up every drop she could of her genius. “I’m not prepared to talk about anything until after Christmas. It’s in poor taste.”

Sophie stepped out of the cubicle and tiptoed over to her office door to sneak a peek through the tiny gap between the door and the jamb.

Reginald rushed right over. “Oh, no you don’t.” He quickly closed the door, right in her face.

“Fine,” Mindy said, sounding impatient. “But will you at least call Jake Wheeler and listen to his pitch? The man is ridiculously persistent. He’s calling me twice a day.”

There it was—that name again. “I know. He sent me a fruit basket.”

“He’s got superdeep pockets, Sophie. And he sure speaks fondly of you. You’d think you two were exes the way he talks about you.”

Sophie leaned back against the wall, her vision narrowing just as her lips pinched together. “You know that’s not the case.”

“Oh, I know. I know the whole story. He’s the one who got away.”

Sophie shook her head. “He is not. He’s the snake who slithered away. And I hardly had him to begin with.” Just one unbelievably hot night of abandon.

“Regardless. Call him.”

“I’ll think about it.” Sophie already knew there was no way she would call Jake. There was a lot of wisdom in the adage about not clawing at old wounds. He’d hurt her. Badly. She would never, ever forgive him.

“Think harder. I’d like to cross him off my to-do list.”

Sophie stifled a snort. Jake Wheeler had spent two years on her “to-do” list.

Years later, she still regretted it like crazy.

* * *

Granted, expressing condolences was not Jake Wheeler’s strongpoint. He’d found it much easier to get through life by glossing over sad moments and enjoying pleasant ones. But after three unreturned phone calls, a sympathy card that garnered no response and an ignored charity donation in her grandmother’s name, he was certain Sophie Eden was not impressed with his efforts.

Jake’s admin, Audrey, buzzed the line in his office. “Ms. Eden’s assistant is on the line, Mr. Wheeler.”

Jake picked up his phone. “Lizzie, I’m worried that if we continue to spend this much time on the phone, people will start to get the wrong impression of our working relationship.”

“Sir? You remembered my name?”

“How could I not? Is this our fourth or fifth time speaking?”

“I’m not sure, sir. Probably the fifth.”

“And I’m guessing you know why I’m calling.” Jake rocked forward and back in his chair, watching out the window of his tenth-floor office in the luxury steel-and-glass tower of 7 Bryant Park. He had stunning views of the New York Public Library and other midtown Manhattan landmarks, but the one he enjoyed most was that of the building’s namesake. Down on the street, a temporary Christmas market was set up with vendors, music and ice skating. The holiday disruption had been overtaking the normally peaceful green space every December in recent years. Jake couldn’t wait for January, when it would all be gone.

“I do. And I’m very sorry, but Ms. Eden is not available right now.”

“Can you at least tell me when she’ll be back in the office?”

“She’s here all the time, Mr. Wheeler. But her schedule is packed and always changing, as I’m sure you can understand. It’s December. She runs one of the largest department stores in Manhattan. It’s a very busy time.”

“Of course.” Jake tapped his pen on his desk. “Did she get the fruit basket I sent?”

“She did. And she was generous enough to share it with the staff. Everyone has enjoyed it greatly. Thank you.”

Jake wasn’t sure what more he could do to get her to return his phone calls, and he certainly couldn’t arrive at a conclusion about why she was avoiding him. Their last interaction, years ago, at business school graduation, had been nothing but pleasant and cordial. They’d both agreed to let their shared history remain where it belonged—in the past.

“But she’s not there right now?” He purposely added a heavy tone of suspicion to the question. It was the end of the workday. If Sophie was too busy to pick up the phone, she had to still be at the office.

“I’m sorry, but she’s not available right now. No.”

Jake wasn’t sure what that meant, but he knew he was getting the runaround. “Fine. I’d like to leave a message. Again. My name is Jake Wheeler, and my number is—”

“Ms. Eden has your number.”

Jake choked back a frustrated grumble. “Please remind her that it’s very important. I need to speak to her.”

“She knows, sir. I’ve delivered each one of your messages personally.” Judging by the tone in her voice, Sophie’s assistant was losing her patience. That much they had in common.

“Great. Thank you.” Jake hung up the phone, more frustrated now than ever. He had to get Sophie to talk to him. He had to meet with her. Jake was a member of an exclusive investment group called the War Chest. It was run by financier Jacob Lin, and they tackled only the biggest of big deals—ones that required several sets of deep pockets. Jake had suggested Eden’s when Sophie’s grandmother had died. The other War Chest members, hoteliers Sawyer and Noah Locke and real-estate broker Michael Kelly, along with Jacob, had all voted yes on the idea. Jake assured them with a great deal of confidence that he had an inside track with Sophie. Of course, until a month ago, he’d thought he did have an inside track. He and Sophie were best friends in business school. For a brief but memorable twenty-four hours, they’d been more.

“Audrey?” he called out into the void of his office.