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in shadow, the Christmas lights lining Main Street brightened the interior of the car, helping him make out her tense expression. “Please, Rhett. It’s Christmas.”
    Shit. And he was taking away from her enjoyment. He hated that.
    “Fine, but I still have your present, remember? Maybe then you’ll believe what we have is real.”
    As he pulled away from the curb, he could only nod to the angel decorating the lantern, praying that it was true.

Chapter 5
    T he invitation Abbie received in the mail could easily have been sent by Martha Stewart herself. Whoever it was from certainly had class. The gold–leaf monogrammed Christmas tree inlay, surrounded by a swirl of silver snow, held an artful whimsy. There was no return address, and because the envelope was so gorgeous, she located her Waterford crystal letter opener and carefully slit the paper before removing the card. Her letter opener clattered to the desk as she started to read.
    Rhett Butler Blaylock graciously requests
Your company at his Christmas Gala
On the nineteenth day of December in the year two thousand and thirteen
At eight o’clock in the ballroom of The Grand Mountain Hotel.
Holiday–themed costumes are encouraged.
To RSVP, please contact The Grand Mountain Hotel.
    The invitation somehow ended up pressed against her beating heart. How could she have not known he was hosting a party in their hotel? She was usually part of the planning for events like this one, but no one had said a word to her.
    She picked up her cell and called Mac, who was at Peggy’s tonight with Dustin. When he answered, she didn’t beat around the bush.
    “Did you know Rhett was throwing at party at The Grand?” she asked.
    “Yes,” he replied. “He came to me with the stipulation that you couldn’t have anything to do with it. He’s the client, so I agreed to his terms. He wants you to enjoy yourself as a guest. I knew you wouldn’t be happy about it, but I also think he’s right. If you helped out with the planning, you’d spend the whole time fussing like a mother hen. You wouldn’t let yourself have fun.”
    She paced in front of her desk as her mechanical Santa rang his bell in time with her steps. “Dammit, Mac. I don’t like this. This is one of my duties at the hotel.”
    “I’m sure Karen will get along fine without you.”
    Yeah, Karen would be fine. She had a great eye for detail, but he was missing the point. She shut Santa off. Right now, his incessant cheer was annoying the crap out of her.
    “I don’t like being kept in the dark. Rhett had no right.”
    “Well, if you feel that way, why don’t you go talk to him? He’s at his house tonight. I called him to see if he wanted to join us for dinner at Peg’s, but he declined. He sounded pretty low if you want to know the truth.”
    Probably because his sacrifice of the poker babes hadn’t worked.
    The tree in her office—one of several she’d scattered across the house—blinked white lights amidst golden and baby blue bows and smelled divine. Yes, it was Christmas, but this whole thing with Rhett was really starting to dilute her enjoyment. Plus, she felt guilty. She wasn’t sure why she was still holding back…so how could she explain it to him?
    “Okay, let’s not talk about it,” she said, deciding it was pointless to continue this discussion with her brother. She knew he was becoming frustrated with her tenacity about Rhett. “How’s Dustin?”
    “He’s fine. He and Keith are playing a Christmas video game with deranged Santas and serial–killer snowmen. It’s kinda fun. Abbie, go talk to Rhett. You’ll feel better.”
    “Have fun,” she murmured and hung up.
    The Christmas star she’d chosen for the tree in her office was dotted with gold sparkles. It was the one she’d purchased when she’d started working in Mac’s first hotel, a proud moment for her since it had taken her six years to finish college while raising Dustin at the same time. When she brought the