Page 9 of Love, Lies and Mistletoe
Layla tossed her head back to laugh. It wasn’t a funny-haha sound. It was the cackle of a cartoon villainess before she zapped you with a lightning bolt.
She hugged her arms across her chest. “I was talking to someone—a potential client—before I was humiliated by a stranger kissing me. Who surprised who?”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass—”
She put her finger up to stop him. “The kiss wasn’t even the problem—”
“No?” So she didn’t mind the kiss. That was a plus, at least.
“It was how you reacted afterward.”
The light on the table next to her flickered on as well as the chandelier in the foyer. Across the room, Darcy whooped. There was a collectiveahhh!in the room.
“Let there be light!” shouted the man playing cards with his wife.
“Thank goodness,” Layla said. She gathered her book and water glass. “I’m going to go charge my phone.”
But he really wanted to hear more. He got up from the chair. “You were saying?”
She paused but focused on the things in her hand. She thrust out her lip, thinking.
“I don’t remember,” she said, making a face. “Have a good night.”
Chapter Five
The next morning Layla snuck downstairs, tightly bundled in her sweatshirt and vest, as the sun’s first blush painted the horizon. The lack of heat was very noticeable now. Cradling the jar candle between her hands was a short-term comfort as she crept into the kitchen, hurriedly ate a breakfast bar from the basket Darcy would set out later for guests, then set to work. While the power had blinked on last night, it was cruelly absent again this morning when she awoke. No matter. She’d been surprisingly productive yesterday. Making do without her glue gun, instead relying on wire and bottled glue, seemed to give her greater focus.
After working nonstop for a few hours, Layla secured the last bronze pear to the garland on the newel post at the top of the stairs. Her knuckles ached from twisting so much wire. She stood to stretch the kinks from her back, relieved that she could take a little break then move on to something else.
She started gathering her supplies, going over her mental checklist, when a length of the heavy swag popped out of the plastic tie she’d used to secure it. It rested on the step, threatening to pull the rest of the garland off the entire twenty-foot length of railing. Layla prayed the rest would hold until she fastened it again.
She mumbled under her breath as she rooted through her toolbox for another spool of florist wire and her snips. The natural light from the stained glass windows behind her was a godsend, but she still fumbled in the box, looking for the little spool.
“I’ve got it.”
The voice raised her hackles.
Brant rushed past her down the stairs to hold the garland, stopping it from dragging the whole swag off its perch. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you so much.”
“What should I do with it?” He draped it gently onto the railing again.
“Hold it right there. I’m getting wire.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and dug deeper into the box.
Ah, here it is.
She hurried down the steps, coming close to running smack into Brant as they momentarily shared the same step. Nose to chest.Not good, not good.
“Oh, ah…” Brant mumbled, gripping the railing with his free hand to steady himself.
“Sorry.” Layla took a step backward, to the higher step, putting a safe distance between her and that chest she was all too familiar with, almost losing her balance. She reached for the garland. “I can take it now.”
“I’ll hold it while you fasten it again.”
She looked at him, wondering how to get the job done without getting dangerously close to him again.
Brant shrugged. “I don’t have anything better to do. I’m useless without electricity.”
