The Perfect Christmas - Debbie Macomber [50]
“I was hoping to see you,” she said, smiling shyly at Harry. “I thought I’d invite my dearest friends over for eggnog on Christmas Eve. I do hope you can join me.” As if she realized she’d directed the invitation solely to Mr. Oliver, she turned to Cassie. “I’d like it if you could come, too.”
“Why…thank you, I’d be honored.” Cassie’s brother and Angie had invited her to spend Christmas Day with Angie’s family. They’d been generous to include her, and Cassie had gratefully accepted.
“I wonder…” Phyllis began. “If you’d like to invite your young man, please do. That Simon is quite the charmer.”
She nodded. “I’ll mention it if I talk to him between now and Christmas Eve.” That was highly improbable, but again she didn’t feel it was necessary to go into details.
“Why wouldn’t you be talking to him?” Mrs. Mullinex pressed. “’Tis the season and he’s your sweetheart.”
Cassie glanced away. “Actually, he isn’t.”
“You don’t mean that!”
“They might’ve had a spat,” Harry suggested.
“In that case, dear, I urge you to settle it before Christmas.” She looked at Harry and blushed. “Don’t let too much time elapse before you set things right.”
Harry stepped closer to Phyllis. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”
Rather than tell them there was nothing to settle, Cassie just thanked them for their advice.
They made an arrangement to meet, and Cassie let herself into her condo. The festive cheer of the season greeted her, and for a moment all she could do was stand and stare at her Christmas tree and the other decorations, at the Christmas cards lined up on her mantel and the pile of wrapped gifts. She struggled to ignore her heavy heart.
As she tossed the mail on the kitchen counter, Simon’s bold handwriting, slanted across a business-size envelope, instantly caught her attention. She grabbed it with both hands. Two or three minutes must have passed before she mustered the courage to tear it open.
With her pulse hammering in her ears, she pulled out a refund check for the total amount of his fee. The check was wrapped in a single sheet of white paper. When she unfolded the sheet, she found it blank.
He’d made the check out to her and in the memo line, he’d written one word: refund. She had always assumed he’d keep the money. Perhaps this was the only way he had of relieving his conscience. The only way of saying he had regrets, too. Not knowing just what she’d do with it, Cassie propped the check against the base of a blooming poinsettia—the very one he’d given her. She’d need to think about her response.
She could refuse to cash it out of pure stubbornness. That seemed foolish. When she’d paid Simon, she’d explained that the funds had come from a special savings account, which she’d set up to pay for her wedding. Perhaps he was saying he wanted her to have that wedding.
No, she mused, shaking her head. She couldn’t second-guess him, couldn’t drive herself insane trying to analyze his motives.
The phone rang and, still absorbed in her thoughts, Cassie picked it up. “Hello,” she murmured.
“Hello.” The male voice was unfamiliar. “My name is John Fitzsimmons and I was given your number by a…mutual friend.”
“What can I do for you, John?” she asked, suspicion springing to life.
“Well…I was hoping we could meet for coffee.” He sounded nervous.
“What friend?”
“Ah…”
“Is it Simon?” she asked. It hadn’t taken her long to catch on. The matchmaker in him was incapable of letting this go. He’d found the man he believed to be her ideal match. Obviously, Simon was hoping to assuage his guilt by making sure she had the opportunity to meet John—an opportunity she’d already declined.
“Simon suggested it might be better if I implied it was someone else, but I’m not much good at prevarication.”
“I’m not, either.”
John chuckled. “He said you backed out at the last minute.”
“I did,” she confirmed.
“I know it’s none of my business, but would you mind telling me why?”
Cassie bit her lip and debated how wise it would be to reveal the truth, then