LITMIR.BIZ

      Writing is often a solitary venture … but not this time!

       During the writing of much of this book, I was blessed with the company of an incredible group of women, and I would like to dedicate this story to the CBs who were an integral part of the process: CMS, JenB, RSS, GP and Theresa, with an extra special thank you to JenB and “Mr JenB” for their generosity and hospitality.

       (xo “35”)

      This story is also dedicated to Becky with thanks for the tour, the stories, and answers to my endless questions. All the good stuff is hers—any mistakes made or liberties taken are my own.

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Extract

       Copyright

Prologue

      The Garrett Furniture Christmas party was held at the Courtland Hotel in downtown Charisma, as it had been for each of the past six years that Allison Caldwell had worked for the company. The main ballroom was decorated for the occasion with miles of pine garland, dozens of potted evergreens twinkling with lights and white poinsettias at the center of every table. The meal was a traditional roast turkey dinner served family style, with stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, buttered corn, baby carrots, green beans and cranberry sauce.

      The Garretts always treated their staff well—from holiday parties to summer picnics, from comprehensive benefit packages to generous vacation allowances—and Allison would always be grateful that a three-week temp position had paved the way to her becoming the executive assistant to the CFO. Tonight, she was seated at a table with three coworkers from the finance department and their respective spouses, and throughout the meal, conversation flowed as freely as the wine. No one seemed to notice or care that she was on her own. No one except Allison.

      She’d been married once—for all of two minutes. Actually, it had been two and a half years, but that two-and-a-half-year marriage had ended six years earlier. Since the divorce, she’d become accustomed to attending social events on her own, and she usually preferred it that way.

      But on this night, only twelve days before Christmas, as she watched various couples snuggle up to each other in the corners or move together on the dance floor, she was suddenly and painfully aware of her solitary status. Aware that she would be going home to a dark and empty apartment because Dylan was spending the weekend with his dad’s new family. Her eight-year-old son was the light of her life, the reason for everything she did, and she missed him unbearably when he was gone.

      A surreptitious glance at her watch confirmed that it was almost eleven o’clock—still early for the die-hard partyers but an acceptable time for her to head out. She wished her boss and his wife a merry Christmas, then made her way to the cloakroom

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