An O'brien Family Christmas

She allowed herself a sigh. Surely she must have been out of her mind to think that she and much younger playboy Matthew O’Brien could possibly have a respectable future. That had to explain her uncharacteristic behavior.

But because she’d taken leave of her senses, here she was, back in a tiny office, doing the sort of accounting work that bored her to tears. None of the hoped-for jobs at other area banks had materialized. Her credentials were impeccable. Everyone had agreed on that. But in the current economy, no one was hiring at her level. If that changed, she’d be the first person they called. Blah-blah-blah. She’d seen the encouraging words for what they were—so many empty promises.

Within weeks of quitting her job in a huff at the family owned community bank, she’d started berating herself for her foolishness and resenting Matthew for his role in it. If only he hadn’t been so blasted irresistible, she’d thought accusingly. So determined to win her heart. She’d been caught up in the romance of his pursuit.

Even as she was blaming him for all that charm and sex appeal, she was forced to admit that Matthew himself had been totally supportive in the aftermath of her impulsive decision to leave her father’s bank. He’d even found—or created, she suspected—an accounting opening for her at his uncle Mick’s architectural firm, but she didn’t want his handouts. She no longer wanted anything from him, in fact, except to be left alone.

Correction: she wanted sex, but that was out of the question. Lust, combined with loneliness and envy for all the happily married couples around her, was exactly what had gotten her in trouble in the first place.

Ending their misguided relationship within weeks of quitting her job had been her only choice. If she’d also packed up and left Chesapeake Shores, it would have been the ultimate trifecta, a complete upending of her life.

But, no, she didn’t quite have the will to cut the ties to the town she loved and her infuriating family. So she was stuck here, alone and miserable and working for half a dozen pitiful clients who barely kept her in the rocky road ice cream that lately she craved by the gallon.

“Sulking, I see,” Jess O’Brien Lincoln said, braving Laila’s dark mood by stepping into the office uninvited. She looked around, took in the drab beige walls that needed paint, the tiny window with no view and the seriously scarred desk, shook her head, then sat on a chair that had seen better days. Not even the bright posters Laila had framed could save this place, and they both knew it.

“I am not sulking,” Laila protested. “I’m working.”

“Yes, I can see all the work piled up on your desk,” Jess noted, her tone wry.

“It’s on the computer,” Laila informed her. “Haven’t you heard? Financial records are computerized these days.”

Jess tried to settle more comfortably onto the cramped office’s one guest chair, gave up and shrugged. “So I hear. Not my forte.”

Laila gave her friend a wary look. “Why are you here? I hope it’s not on your cousin’s behalf. I’ve told Matthew—”

Jess cut her off. “Matthew didn’t send me.”

Despite the convincing tone, Laila wasn’t reassured. O’Briens were a sneaky lot. “Then what brings you by?”

“I can’t stop in to check on a friend?”

“You could, but lately you’ve been so caught up in the extended honeymoon phase of your marriage that you barely leave the inn.”

“Not true. I go out all the time. Will and I are not joined at the hip. He does his thing. I do mine,” she declared with a nonchalance that didn’t fool either of them. Once Jess had accepted her feelings for Will were real and his for her, she’d been a little gaga ever since.

“If you say so.” Maybe it just seemed to Laila that everyone in Chesapeake Shores was traveling in contented pairs these days. “Okay, let’s say I believe this is a purely casual visit. What’s up with you? Is everything running smoothly at the inn?”

Jess’s expression brightened. “We’re packed, as a matter of fact. Connor gave me this idea a while back about offering specials for small business conferences, and now that the golf course has opened nearby, that’s working out really well during the week. Even better, weekends are booked all the way through the holidays with tourists. The word seems to be out that the inn is a great spot for a romantic getaway. It helped that we had a huge spread in a regional travel magazine showcasing how beautiful it is here at Christmas.”

Laila was genuinely impressed. “That’s terrific. You should be proud of yourself, Jess. Making a success of the inn is a fantastic accomplishment.”

Jess grinned. “Quite a change from my teenage screwups, huh? And that brings me to one of the things I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Uh-oh, here it comes,” Laila murmured, regarding her accusingly. “I knew this wasn’t just some spur-of-the-moment visit.”

“Okay, I’ll admit it. I am on a mission,” Jess confessed. “Two, as a matter of fact. One from Abby and me, and one from Susie. Neither one has a thing to do with Matthew, I promise.”

Laila wasn’t entirely placated. They were all O’Briens, after all, a family that was notoriously tight-knit. These days, she didn’t trust a single one of them, not even her sister-in-law Abby, much less the clever friend seated across from her with the cat-that-swallowed-the-canary glint in her eyes. As for Susie, she was Matthew’s sister, so her motives were suspect on more levels than Laila could possibly count.

“Okay, try me,” she said grudgingly. “What do you and Abby want? And why didn’t Abby call me herself?”

“She did. Several times, in fact. Apparently you haven’t been returning her calls, or your brother’s, or those of anyone else with the name Riley. Or O’Brien, come to think of it. Connie says she hasn’t spoken to you in ages, and even though I’m a Lincoln now, you’ve pretty much been ignoring me, as well.” She gave Laila a chiding look. “Thus the personal visit.”

“I’ve been busy,” Laila claimed defensively.

“Yeah, right,” Jess replied, clearly not buying it. She waved off the subject. “We’ll leave a discussion of the way you’ve been neglecting your friends for another time. This morning I want to talk to you about taking on the accounting duties at the inn.”

Laila regarded her with deepening suspicion. Jess had started The Inn at Eagle Point, gotten herself into financial hot water even before the doors opened, and needed her older sister to bail her out. Abby, the family’s financial whiz, had maintained a fierce oversight of the inn’s accounting procedures and expenditures ever since. She’d put her own hand-chosen man in charge of keeping tabs on things. Jess had chafed at the strict oversight, but even she knew it had been a necessity.

“What happened to the accountant Abby brought on board?” Laila asked.

“He was okay, but it was time for a change,” Jess responded blithely. “We need someone full-time, or close to full-time, anyway. Abby agrees.”

Laila stiffened. “So, this change was your idea? Jess, I don’t need your charity. I have clients.”

“How many?” Jess asked bluntly.

“Enough.”

“I doubt it. Something tells me your dispute with your father over Matthew affected more than your position at the bank. Your old clients have been slow to return, thanks to all the gossip. Am I right? “

Laila ignored the question. Jess clearly didn’t expect an answer. She thought she had the situation pegged and, sadly, she was right.

Jess shook her head, her expression indignant. “I swear some people in this town are living in the Dark Ages!”

“Exactly as my father predicted,” Laila admitted ruefully.

“For an idiot, he has way too much influence,” Jess countered.

“Well, he was right about one thing,” Laila said. “Apparently nobody trusts their money with someone who displays poor judgment in their personal life.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Look, that’s all water under the bridge. I’ve been networking like crazy the past couple of months. Everything will work out. You don’t need to worry about me or make up jobs for me.”

“But you’re not so overburdened with work that you can’t take on the inn, are you?” Jess persisted. “Tell the truth.” Laila sighed. “No.”

“Then you’re officially hired as of today. You can stay here in this charming space, if you choose to, or you can move into the nice, spacious office I have ready for you at the inn.”

Laila wasn’t quite ready to cave in. “What am I supposed to do, ditch the clients who dared to take a chance on me?”

“Of course not. You can continue handling as many private clients as you’d like to. I have no problem with them coming to the inn to meet with you.” She gave Laila an encouraging grin. “There are windows, Laila. Big windows with a view of the bay. And that huge piece of expensive modern art that hung on your office wall at the bank? The one there’s not even room for in here? There’s a perfect spot for that, too.”

“Now you’re just taunting me,” Laila said, imagining it. Currently that prized picture was gathering dust in a storage locker.

“All you have to do is say yes, and the office is yours, along with the job,” Jess confirmed.

Laila’s pride, which had taken a beating lately, kicked in. She started to refuse, just on principle, then chided herself for allowing emotion to overrule logic. She needed more work, especially if she was to keep herself sane. It had nothing to do with the income. She’d been frugal with her paychecks over the years. She could weather these lean times, at least if she limited her ice cream intake. No, it was too many empty hours weighing on her. She needed to fill them.

Lately she was spending way too much time thinking about Matthew, wondering if she’d made a mistake in cutting him out of her life once and for all. Those were the kinds of weak, mostly sex-driven thoughts that could prove dangerous.

Biting back the desire to refuse, she forced herself to nod, forced a gracious note into her voice. “Thank you.”