Read Online The Snow Globe by Sheila Roberts - Free Book Online

for Suz’s holiday home tour.”
    Allison was a physical therapist by day, but in her off hours she channeled Julia Childs, and she picked up extra money catering Suzanne’s events.
    Kiley’s taste buds suddenly took an active interest in the conversation. “Those mint ones?”
    â€œThose would be the ones. I’ll see you later.”
    All right. Chocolate mint brownies weren’t on a par with spending the evening with Craig Peters, but she’d make do.
    Â 
    Suzanne was the first to arrive. “Thank God the snow is going away,” she said as she blew into the condo in a mist of perfume and style. Her red scarf was cashmere, the coat was a black wool number from Nordstrom’s—not from the Rack, where Kiley occasionally prowled for bargains. The boots were from Nordy’s, too. Suzanne had bragged about getting them on sale, although even on sale they’d been too rich for Kiley’s blood. But Suzanne settled for only the best. She once said she’d walk barefoot before she’d buy bargain chain-store shoes.
    â€œI kind of hate to see it melt so quickly,” Kiley said.
    Suzanne frowned. “That’s because you are currently unemployed and don’t have to be anywhere.” She pulled off the scarf, shaking her blond hair free, then hung her coat in the closet where Furina couldn’t reach it.
    â€œYou’re self-employed,” Kiley reminded her. “You could take a day off.”
    Suzanne shook her head and looked regretful. “Not if I want to pay my mortgage.”
    She and Guy had bought and refurbished an old house on Magnolia. It had been about to go into foreclosure, and thanks to her real estate connections Suzanne had gotten it for a song. But the more she talked to the architect and interior designer the grander the song had gotten. Now she had a gorgeous house with refinished hardwood floors, crown molding, and expensive furniture that she enjoyed on the rare occasions she wasn’t working. She also had huge payments, which gave her the perfect excuse to remain a workaholic.
    â€œAnyway, I did take time off.” She whipped out her digital camera from her purse and displayed the evidence. “See?”
    Yes, sure enough. There she was, rosy-cheeked and beautiful in jeans and a white parka, black mittens on her hands, a black cashmere scarf around her neck and a matching black tam on her head. Next to her, holding her hand, her daughter, Bryn, looked like a miniature Suzanne, bundled into a pink snowsuit, her golden curls poking out from under a pink hat.
    They stood beside a snowman wearing a very ugly scarf. Kiley recognized those colors. Obviously, when it came to figuring out how best to use Allison’s early craftwork, great minds thoughtalike. The snowman’s wardrobe didn’t catch Kiley’s eye as much as the expression on Bryn’s face. She looked up at her mother as though Suzanne was the Madonna.
    And Suzanne’s expression? It was one Kiley recognized. It said: Okay. Snowman completed? Check. Now, let’s get on to the next thing on the list—pronto . And there was always a next thing on the list. Suzanne liked to live in the moment, the moment that belonged to the future. She was constantly looking ahead: to the next decorating project, the next listing, or the next sale, busy building an empire in which her home was the crown jewel. Kiley admired her friend’s efficiency, but she sometimes worried that Suz didn’t really appreciate how much she already had.
    â€œSo, let’s see the snow globe,” said Suz, cutting to the chase.
    â€œHow about a cup of tea first? Allison’s coming over with chocolate mint brownies.”
    â€œHer Christmas ones?” Suzanne asked hopefully. Kiley nodded and she said, “Okay, I’ll wait.”
    â€œWhat do you mean wait?”
    â€œWell, I can’t stay too long. I have to run over to the office and do a couple