The Mills & Boon Christmas Wishes Collection. Maisey Yates

of a beautiful mask!

      There was a tap on the door, and Amory poked her head around. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here already, Timothy.”

      “It’s OK, Amory, we’ve only just started,” I said, and introduced them. I got Amory up to speed with the party and what Tim wanted; she flipped her laptop open and went to work, designing interactive invitations that would be emailed to guests. I grinned as we went through the main points of planning any party: the invite list, the budget (unlimited!) and the music, food, and drinks menu. As we chatted away, the puppy wandered in through the open door, and jumped straight on to Tim’s lap.

      “Who’s this little guy?” he asked, clearly smitten with the little fella who’d so far managed to steal everyone’s hearts.

      Amory grinned. “That’s little Scotty. Give him two minutes and he’ll be snoring on your lap. He’s like a windup toy, a bundle of energy one second, and asleep the next.”

      Timothy chucked him under the chin. “He’s cute.”

      Pride practically shone from Amory’s eyes. “Thanks.”

      We fell into a serious discussion about the party, and managed to lock in almost every detail from the music (a string quartet) and table centerpieces (ornate gold candelabra), right down to the color of the napkins (rose-gold linen). Tim was certainly organized, which made our job so much easier.

      “Right,” Amory continued, closing her laptop. “I’ll finish these invites in my office, and I’ll email them to you for your approval. Once that’s done. I’ll meet with our chef, Cruz, go over the menu, then email you a range to choose from. Cruz can then organize a tasting plate for you to approve. Clio will orchestrate everything else.”

      I nodded, and Amory shook Tim’s hand, before he reluctantly handed back a snoring Scotty and she retreated to her own office in the parlor next door. “We have to move exceptionally fast to have everything delivered,” I reminded Tim, jotting more notes down, and hoping our suppliers would agree to help on such a short timeframe.

      He smiled. “I’ll run everything by Vinnie as soon as I get back to the office. It’ll be the party of the year, Clio, I just know it.”

      “It will,” I said, imagining the ballroom full of women in spectacular glittery evening gowns, holding Venetian masks to their faces as they flirted with strangers, the secrecy and mystery of a masquerade ball giving even the shyest person the chance to slip on another persona.

      Tim tidied his paperwork away and sat back, clasping his hands together. “Who’d have thought we’d be sitting here like this, together again, after all these years. You’re amazing, Clio, not only buying the lodge and restoring it, but building a business people are already flocking to. No wonder you were always written up in the papers in New York. You were their events darling, and rightly so.”

      I gulped, hoping he hadn’t read every article that featured me. The scandal that had left me jobless and fleeing to Evergreen was thankfully behind me, but no girl could ever get over being called a groom-stealer in black and white print. And even though the gossip had eventually faded as juicier stories came along, it still smarted – I didn’t want my friends to think I was that kind of person.

      “Oh, they weren’t so much talking about me, rather my clientele when I worked in New York.” In my former life in the Big Apple, my celebrity clients always tipped off the press about their soirees. Everyone wanted to be known for having the most extravagant, exclusive parties. It helped me no end being written up as the party planner to the stars, but that life was over and I preferred anonymity at Cedarwood Lodge. Though we’d had a rogue reporter cover the bridal expo, it had been about the lodge as a venue, rather than the guest list, and I thought that was a step in the right direction.

      Outside, snow drifted down, settling on windowpanes. The fire crackled for attention, so I stood to stretch and throw another log of wood on it. Timothy joined me by the fire, stepping a little closer than seemed necessary.

      “It’s their loss,” he said quietly. “We have you now, and we’re not losing you to the big city again.” Tucking a tendril of my hair back, he stared into my eyes and I stood there stock-still, wishing I felt more for him than I did. Because I knew right then, that my heart belonged to another.

      How the man in front of me was single still was beyond me, but I figured he was still getting over his divorce. Except, right now, he was flashing me enough signals that even a daydreamer like me could pick up on them. If only things had been different between us. But timing was everything and it was too late. Wasn’t it? As usual, when I even considered what could be with Timothy, Kai’s sun-kissed face popped into my mind.

      I smiled, unsure of what to say. “Thanks for thinking of Cedarwood.”

      “I was thinking of you, I must admit.”

      The look he gave me was one I recognized so well from all those years ago – the type where he’d say something and follow it up with a slow, sultry kiss. In the quiet of the moment, we could still be those two teenagers who only needed each other… But we weren’t those people any more.

      Trying not to look too obvious, I retreated to the safety of my desk, his presence overwhelming in close proximity. “Well, I appreciate it,” I said, pretending I didn’t understand his meaning. “And I promise it’ll be the party of year!”

      “Did you ever think of me after you left, Clio?”

      Oh boy. “Sure. I thought of you all.”

      He rubbed his chin, like he was weighing up what to say. “I thought about you constantly. Picturing you in the big city, going from party to party, dressed to impress, meeting interesting people. Living this exotic life. I kicked myself a million times for letting you go.”

      I waved him away. This was all getting way too sentimental for a business meeting. “That’s all in the past. We didn’t know any better back then…” And when I said we, I meant him, clearly. He was the one who’d got married and moved on quickly, and made babies with someone else: real, living, breathing children and whatnot. Still, I didn’t begrudge him anything. It really was a distant memory for me. And in hindsight had probably made staying and living in New York easier, because I hadn’t been pining for a long-distance love, just nursing a broken heart that had been surprisingly easy to heal in the bright lights of the big city.

      “You say that, but I always wonder, you know? Would we have made it if you’d stayed? Would we have had a family, a house, a business together?”

      He was speaking so fervently I had the urge to flee. What was the point of looking back? None of those things had happened, and they wouldn’t either. He’d had a wife, a family, the dog called Buster, the cookies baked from scratch, and some of it had worked out for him and some of it hadn’t.

      It was too late for us. And yes, the thought made me a little sad – Timothy was one of the sweetest guys around – but he just wasn’t right for me. No matter how many times he asked for a date or turned up unannounced, all my fleeting feelings had been those of a long-forgotten teenage crush.

      Here was the universe placing a good man in my path and I wasn’t interested. Instead I was pining after a man who would most likely head back to Australia once his family rift was fixed. Was I destined to be alone? I shook the thought from my mind – I didn’t want to be anyone’s second choice and, while Timothy wasn’t that kind of guy deep down, that was sort of how it felt. Like, you’re back, and you’re good enough, let’s pick up where we left off. But I wanted the fairy tale. The fluttery belly, the air sucked from the room when he walked in, the thought that I was number one in someone’s eyes. Not a consolation prize.

      I coughed, and let out a nervous little laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Ah, but you had all of that with someone else, and now you have two love, love…” I skidded on the word. “…Two lovely children, and you should be very proud. We’d have broken up after our first fight about where the couch went, and whose turn it was to put the trash out.