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Authors: Sandra D. Bricker
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her.
Black silk tie on black shirt beneath black suit jacket: he looked positively James Bond—in a scruffy, slightly incorrigible sort of way.
67
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Merry
Humbug Christmas
Her poor heart had hardly been able to take it when he’d worn a
casual Friday version of a suit to breakfast that morning; she’d continually forced herself to look away from him during their shopping escapade to avoid staring too long.
“I thought I might have to come and find you,” he said as he stood up and held out her chair. Once she’d been seated, he leaned over and whispered, “Happy Birthday.” She inhaled sharply, but he placed his hand on her shoulder and added, “Simmer down there. It’s my
final offense.”
“Wait until you see the menu, darlin’,” Connie sang from across
the table. “We have one gorgeous thing after another to choose from.”
Patrick handed her a menu, and he looked over her shoulder as
she reviewed it.
“You should have brought your cake with you,” he said softly.
“We could have all shared it and maybe sung a rousing chorus of
‘Happy Birthday.’”
“You’re a laugh riot,” she remarked without looking up at him.
“Besides, I ate most of it.”
“Seriously? How?”
“Me and a fork and a cake. That’s really all I needed.”
“Hollow leg, right?”
Joss chuckled as their waiter approached. “Good evening, Miss.”
“Good evening, Victor.”
“Have you decided?”
“I’ll start with the pear and pomegranate salad. Then the prime
rib with cheesy mashed potatoes and asparagus.”
“How would you like your prime rib?”
“Medium rare.”
“Very good.”
Joss glanced at Patrick. “You’ve already ordered? What are you
having?”
“Turkey and trimmings. I was on the road for Thanksgiving and
didn’t get to have the usual suspects.”
“Patrick loves cranberry sauce,” Kathleen piped up. “I often won-
der if that’s not why he remained in America after college. Why,
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 68
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Once Upon a Jingle Bell
69
when he saw pumpkin pie on the dessert menu tonight, I thought
he’d have to be revived.”
“Your American Thanksgiving is inspired,” he added with a shrug.
“I admire genius.”
“You said you were traveling over Thanksgiving,” she said. “What
exactly do you do? I’ve never asked.”
“Patrick is a brilliant architect,” Kathleen said.
“Historian, Mother.” He smiled at Joss and clarified. “I’m an
architectural historian.”
“I don’t . . .”—she hesitated to admit it—“. . .know what that
means.”
He grinned. “Short version, I research specific buildings and
compile reports on them.”
“Like . . . for what purpose?”
“National registries, preservationists, sustainability evaluations.”
Joss mulled it over, shaking her head. “I’m sorry to tell you I
never even knew that was a profession.”
“What about you?” Kathleen asked her. “What do you do, Miss
Snow?”
“Joss. I’m in public relations.”
“And how do the von Trapps fit in?” Patrick asked, and Joss
laughed at the reference.
She glanced over at the Jenkins’s table, noting only about half of the usual family members were seated there.
“Rodney Jenkins is the CEO of Vandermere Hotels & Spas. My
partner and I have been trying to get their account for several years.”
“Partner.” He’d repeated it somewhat casually, but Joss read
between the lines.
“Business partner. Ryan Butler. We’ve been in business together
for nearly four years.”
“Four years. That’s a long time.”
Joss grinned and leaned toward him. “Relax, historian. The only
history between Ry and me is of the professional variety.”
Patrick suppressed a smile as he nodded. “Good to know.”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 69
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Merry
Humbug Christmas
“And you? Any partnering I should know about in your line
Black silk tie on black shirt beneath black suit jacket: he looked positively James Bond—in a scruffy, slightly incorrigible sort of way.
67
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 67
7/23/13 1:06 PM
68
Merry
Humbug Christmas
Her poor heart had hardly been able to take it when he’d worn a
casual Friday version of a suit to breakfast that morning; she’d continually forced herself to look away from him during their shopping escapade to avoid staring too long.
“I thought I might have to come and find you,” he said as he stood up and held out her chair. Once she’d been seated, he leaned over and whispered, “Happy Birthday.” She inhaled sharply, but he placed his hand on her shoulder and added, “Simmer down there. It’s my
final offense.”
“Wait until you see the menu, darlin’,” Connie sang from across
the table. “We have one gorgeous thing after another to choose from.”
Patrick handed her a menu, and he looked over her shoulder as
she reviewed it.
“You should have brought your cake with you,” he said softly.
“We could have all shared it and maybe sung a rousing chorus of
‘Happy Birthday.’”
“You’re a laugh riot,” she remarked without looking up at him.
“Besides, I ate most of it.”
“Seriously? How?”
“Me and a fork and a cake. That’s really all I needed.”
“Hollow leg, right?”
Joss chuckled as their waiter approached. “Good evening, Miss.”
“Good evening, Victor.”
“Have you decided?”
“I’ll start with the pear and pomegranate salad. Then the prime
rib with cheesy mashed potatoes and asparagus.”
“How would you like your prime rib?”
“Medium rare.”
“Very good.”
Joss glanced at Patrick. “You’ve already ordered? What are you
having?”
“Turkey and trimmings. I was on the road for Thanksgiving and
didn’t get to have the usual suspects.”
“Patrick loves cranberry sauce,” Kathleen piped up. “I often won-
der if that’s not why he remained in America after college. Why,
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 68
7/23/13 1:06 PM
Once Upon a Jingle Bell
69
when he saw pumpkin pie on the dessert menu tonight, I thought
he’d have to be revived.”
“Your American Thanksgiving is inspired,” he added with a shrug.
“I admire genius.”
“You said you were traveling over Thanksgiving,” she said. “What
exactly do you do? I’ve never asked.”
“Patrick is a brilliant architect,” Kathleen said.
“Historian, Mother.” He smiled at Joss and clarified. “I’m an
architectural historian.”
“I don’t . . .”—she hesitated to admit it—“. . .know what that
means.”
He grinned. “Short version, I research specific buildings and
compile reports on them.”
“Like . . . for what purpose?”
“National registries, preservationists, sustainability evaluations.”
Joss mulled it over, shaking her head. “I’m sorry to tell you I
never even knew that was a profession.”
“What about you?” Kathleen asked her. “What do you do, Miss
Snow?”
“Joss. I’m in public relations.”
“And how do the von Trapps fit in?” Patrick asked, and Joss
laughed at the reference.
She glanced over at the Jenkins’s table, noting only about half of the usual family members were seated there.
“Rodney Jenkins is the CEO of Vandermere Hotels & Spas. My
partner and I have been trying to get their account for several years.”
“Partner.” He’d repeated it somewhat casually, but Joss read
between the lines.
“Business partner. Ryan Butler. We’ve been in business together
for nearly four years.”
“Four years. That’s a long time.”
Joss grinned and leaned toward him. “Relax, historian. The only
history between Ry and me is of the professional variety.”
Patrick suppressed a smile as he nodded. “Good to know.”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 69
7/23/13 1:06 PM
70
Merry
Humbug Christmas
“And you? Any partnering I should know about in your line
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