JASON FOUND TWO MUGS in the cabinet. Zoe poured. He took a big gulp and sighed as the caffeine hit his system and began to fuel his brain.
They moved back into the living room and sat by the big picture window, watching as the morning chased away the dawn.
It was still just lightly snowing, but it was gathering speed now.
Zoe stared at the lump of white that was her car. “It’s probably not a good idea to go driving in that.”
It wasn’t really a question, but rather a genuine statement of fact. She didn’t let much show in her voice, but when he looked at her, took in her profile as she gazed outside, he could feel her sadness. That stubborn strand of hair was in her eyes again and he found himself sweeping it aside, stroking her temple, tucking the hair behind her ear and then lingering. “You wanted to be with your family.”
“It’s Christmas,” she said as if that explained it all. “Don’t you and Mike celebrate with your family?”
“Mike’s celebrating with his girlfriend this year.”
“So he said. Won’t you miss him?”
“We live together and work together. We see each other every day.”
“I don’t see my family much, just a couple of times a year,” she said. “They’re all so busy.”
There was a wistful tone to her voice that he fully understood. If he could have his parents back, he’d sure as hell want to spend time with them. “Are you close?”
“If by close you mean constantly competing and trying to be the best and one-up each other, then yes.” She lifted a shoulder. “We gather in Quincy every year, away from everyone’s jobs and responsibilities. My dad makes eggnog. My mom cooks a feast. My sisters regress to teenagers in spite of having their own families, spending the holiday arguing and trading clothes and hair products. Oh, and we decorate. And we always fight over whose turn it is to put the star on the tree. Somehow it’s never my turn, which is really annoying. That’s what happens when your sisters are a brain surgeon, a rocket scientist and a district attorney, respectively.”
“Holy shit,” he said.
“Yeah, it’s a lot to live up to.”
“You’re an architect,” he pointed out. “What’s that, chopped liver?”
“Well, becoming one didn’t require a Ph.D or being elected, did it?”
“You try to prove yourself to them.”
She sighed. “It’s stupid, really. I don’t know why I try, but the promotion at work…I want it so bad. I want to be someone in their eyes, you know?”
“I meant what I said before,” he said quietly. “About doing the design together.”
“You’d really share the credit.” Her voice was doubtful. Not that he could blame her, he wasn’t exactly known for wanting to share anything. “Yeah. I think we’d make a hell of a team.”
She looked at him for a long time. “This isn’t like you. You want that promotion, too.”
He did. And it would fix everything for him. The extra money would help him get out of debt, keep his brother out of trouble—and keep his parents’ house out of the hands of the bank. And yet…
His parents’ house had only been a home because of the love they’d filled it with. What was the point of keeping it if he spent all his time at work? And if it came at the expense of Zoe’s happiness, would it be worth it?
“What would Steele think?” she asked. “You know he’s all about pitting us against each other to keep the sense of competition ramped up.”
“Maybe it’s time to shake up his expectations,” he said.
She frowned and sipped her coffee. “I used to try to live up to expectations. Now I’m just trying to own who and what I am.”
He smiled. “And who and what are you?”
“A sister, a daughter, a friend.” She smiled back. “A really great architect, and…”
“And?”
She turned then and met his gaze, her own green eyes unusually soft and revealing. “Last night, for a little while at least, I was a lover.”
“Yeah,” he said, voice going low at the memory. “And trust me when I say this, Zoe. You’re amazing at everything you do. And I mean everything.”
“Except decorating.”
He grimaced, and set down first his coffee and then hers. “It’s not you,” he said.
“Oh, God. Okay, wait,” she said. “Let me brace myself for the it’s-not-you-it’s-me speech.” She shifted a bit and then nodded. “Okay, ready. Let me have it.”
“It really isn’t you. I haven’t celebrated the holidays since my parents died the week before Christmas ten years ago.”