Page 95 of Strictly Business
“They’re not going to cut you off,” Josh says.
“I have no doubt about it after today, but I don’t care if they do. I made it without them while working on Sheffield House, I’ll do it again.”
“Going to be a little weird keeping the name Sheffield House now, isn’t it?”
“Gives me the chance to redeem the name.”
“I tried to call you last week to invite you to dinner,” Josh says, “but I never heard back.”
“I’ve been busy with the center, getting things ready for the holidays. I meant to call you back, but time got away from me.” That was true, but I also didn’t call back because I didn’t want an obligatory invite. I wasn’t going somewhere I wasn’t wanted. I didn’t think I’d be welcome after what happened. I figured the wedding was the end even after my talk with Josh. I guess that’s why I decided to attend the annual Sheffield Thanksgiving Luncheon. I wanted to feel part of some family, even if it meant dealing with Oliver. And well, after today, I don’t think I’ll be invited to any more luncheons, or Sheffield functions for that matter…
“Well, you’re in town. Come to dinner,” Nick suggests readjusting the case of beer in his hands. “We’re doing it a day early since Nin and Kai have to be in New York tomorrow. Y’know, I could probably swing by the center while they’re at their luncheon.”
“You sure Nin will let you out of it?”
“Supporting the nonprofit she helped start or hanging out with a bunch of businessmen for lunch,” he uses his hands to weigh the options before the one indicating the nonprofit wins by a landslide.
“Fair point. Well, I appreciate the dinner offer, but I don’t think everyone there would enjoy my company at your Thanksgiving meal.”
Their smiles fall before Josh says flatly, “She isn’t gonna be there. Michaela will be spending her holidays in Montana from here on out.”
“You say that like it’s a permanent thing.” The look on his face tells me I might just be right in that assumption. “You can’t be serious.”
“She’s making it work, man.” Josh shrugs. “I guess part of that means spending all the important days with his family.”
Walking into the Villa-Davis house, I’m met with a chorus of various greetings, and it makes me regret not returning Josh’s phone call. I would’ve hated to miss this. Without them, I’d be spending my holiday eating Thai take-out and watching some rerun of a show I’ve seen too many times.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” Nina says wrapping me in a tight embrace, and I kiss her cheek.
“He didn’t think he was welcome,” Nick calls over his shoulder from the pantry.
“You’re always welcome at the Villa-Davis household.” Nina squeezes my arm before handing me silverware. “Now, go set the table. You can manage that, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I salute before taking the silverware to the black farmhouse table in the bump out to the left of the kitchen. The sounds of holiday dinner preparations begin to fill the silence and wrap around me like a warm blanket.
“Who wants wine?”
“Is the turkey almost done?”
“Alex, get your feet off my table!”
“Dad, do you mind grabbing more firewood?”
“Ophelia, no cookies until after dinner.”
“Nin, you guys have any tea around here?”
The Sheffield house was never filled with these kinds of sounds growing up; it was always quiet and cold. Hayley never made a meal. When I ate at home, it consisted of sandwiches — mostly peanut butter, and occasionally I got wild adding strawberry jam. If there was a meal at our house, it was always prepared by someone else. Come to think of it, Mother’s parents were the same way, so it shouldn’t be a surprise she turned out the same way. When I met the Davises, I learned what it meant to be a family, and over the years, this group has become more of a family to me than Oliver and Hayley ever were.
“You okay?” Nick hands me a beer, and I nod. “I’m glad you came, man. You’re always welcome here, even if Michaela decides to pull her head out of her ass and come back home for a holiday or two.”
“Thanks for the invite.” I smile sadly. Part of me hoped she would be here, but a bigger part of me is glad she isn’t. Imagine that dinner. Michaela, David, and I sitting around the table — that’d be a sight to see. But, I know she’s made her decision, and I have to respect that.
“I know it doesn’t mean much, but I was rooting for you,” Nick says. He pats my back briefly before going to help Nina — pulling the turkey out of the oven before she can. She rolls her eyes, commenting something in Italian — something about how she could do it herself, I’m sure. Nick ignores her, sets it on the counter, and kisses her temple. He whispers in her ear and she smiles reaching up to drape her arms around his neck and kiss him briefly.
“Get a room!” Alex shouts over the back of the couch. Nick flips his brother off before swatting Nina’s ass and picking up the turkey to bring it to the table.
Chapter Fifty-One