Grace had moved on from the eggnog to wine.

The house was packed.

Her brothers and uncle were shouting at the game on the TV.

Erin buzzed around the kitchen as if she’d been there her whole life. The woman knew her way around a family dinner. And it looked like she’d baked enough goodies to feed the block.

“What are these?” Aunt Beth bit into something that looked like a macaroon.

“Divinity,” Erin told her.

Aunt Beth purred. “It’s divine. I’ll give you that.”

A roar came from the den. “Interference!”

“Do they think the players can hear them?” Erin asked.

Grace laughed. “Yes.”

Aunt Beth washed the candy down with wine. “So, Parker . . . when are you and Colin going to give my sister a grandchild?”

Grace moved behind her aunt and pointed at Parker with a smile. Hot seat, she mouthed.

“Give the kids time, Bethany,” Nora chided.

“Well, if Colin was anything like you, she’d already be pregnant.” Aunt Bethany knew how to throw punches. It was well known that Colin “came early.”

Grandma Rose, who sat picking at the sweets, looked up. “That was a shotgun wedding,” she added.

Nora acted innocent. “Colin was premature,” she told Parker.

“Not that anyone really cares,” Grace said, smiling at her mom.

The buzzer on the timer went off, and she moved to the oven to switch the stuffing with the yams. Behind her, Aunt Beth moved on to Erin. “What’s taking Matt so long with you?”

Grace happily buzzed around the kitchen now that there were two other women in the house Aunt Beth could focus her meddling attention on.

Dameon stood in his mother’s backyard with his phone pressed to his ear. By the fourth ring, he was starting to lose hope that Grace was going to pick up.

When her voice filled the line, he sighed as if someone had tossed him a life preserver after falling off the Titanic.

“The voice of sanity,” he said after her hello.

“A little tipsy, but sane.”

“I’ll take tipsy. Hi.”

She laughed. “Hi, Dameon. You sound stressed.”

He turned to look at the back door, making sure it was still shut. “My brother showed up.”

“That sounds like a bad thing.”

“He rubs me wrong. And I’m pretty sure he laced something with pot and got my mom high.”

When Grace started to laugh, he found his mood lifting. “It’s not funny.”

She laughed harder. “Sorry.”

“The turkey was half cooked and we’ve burned through all the wine in the house.”

Grace was laughing so hard she snorted.

That had him smiling.

“Your turkey is raw and your mom is baked,” she managed to say through laughter.

“I’m glad you’re entertained.” Dameon ran his free hand through his hair. “Tell me your day is going better.”

“My Christmas is awesome. The food was perfect and Aunt Bethany is harping on Parker and Erin instead of me. I’m golden.”

“I’m happy for you. And hey, the news of the week here is my brother is employed.”

“That’s good, right?”

“At a pot shop.”

Grace started laughing again.

Dameon started to chuckle. “Seriously! He’s thirty.”

“If you love what you do for a living, you’ll never work a day in your life,” Grace said as if quoting someone.

“You’re thoroughly amused, aren’t you?”

“One hundred percent. Do you think you can get a family discount? I’ll lace some of Erin’s brownies for my aunt.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“God, that’s funny.” She finally stopped laughing.

He placed a hand on his stomach. “I’m hungry.”

For whatever reason, Grace lost it again, and the line was filled with laughter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The office was virtually empty when Grace walked in the day after Christmas. Half the staff was out of town for the holiday, and the other half rolled in close to noon.

She found herself looking at the overrun in-basket on her desk and decided to take a peek around the office. Lionel’s office was wide open and his desk too clean for words. Grace prided herself on her organizational skills, but Lionel’s desk made her look like a slob.

Adrian was in, so she knocked on his door and asked how his holiday was. She eyed his inbox and asked what he was working on. By the time she went to Evan’s office, she was convinced that she’d been given an uneven amount of the pie. Evan was about to walk out when she pushed him back in and closed the door behind her. “I’m on a mission,” she said with a beeline to his desk. “Is this your current case load?” she asked, fingering the folders in his inbox.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because mine is twice as thick. Richard keeps piling it on, and I keep saying fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Grace started rambling off the projects she was a part of or lead on.

Evan stopped her halfway through. “Did you ever think the reason Richard gives you all the work is because you don’t complain?”

“I don’t complain because I want to keep my job.”

“C’mon, Grace. He isn’t going to fire you if you tell him you’re too busy for more.”

“Can you promise me that?” she asked.

Evan shrugged, leaned a hip on his desk. “I understand why you think the way you do, but if you’re ever going to break this pattern between the two of you, you’re the one to do it.”

She didn’t like the fact that Evan was right. Grace never had problems with confrontation when it came to her personal life. But with Richard, she didn’t have it in her. “Okay . . . the next time he tries to give me more, I’m going to say something.”

“Good. Tell him to give it to Lionel. He’s always taking time off.”

She opened the office door. “Thanks, Evan.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the Christmas party and a certain someone . . .”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, sure.”

She stepped out and didn’t elaborate.

An hour later she was walking back into her office to hear her phone ringing. She scrambled to pick it up. “Grace Hudson.”

“You’re working today?”

Dameon. Why did she feel like a high school senior talking to the football hero?

“I’m guessing that means you’re not.”

“No. I give my staff the week off. If there’s anything that needs to get done, they can do it from home.”

She set her coffee down and found her seat. “Lucky them.”

“I tried calling your cell first. I wanted to stop by your place and give you your Christmas present.”

Grace paused. “My what?”

“It’s late, but . . .”

“Dameon, that’s not necessary.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t get you something.”