Page 13 of Sexy Claus
“I…” Still feeling a little woozy, Christy sank into one of the chairs. “I’m not sure what’s on my calendar.”
Brenna’s eye-roll sparked a guilt trip, because the excuse didn’t fly with either of them.
“What if I need your advice on how to handle an accessibility issue?” Brenna maneuvered toward the corridor and glanced over her shoulder as she made the turn to head to the waiting room. “Thanks for the great session. See you at La Cocina at five thirty.”
Resting her crossed arms on the table and her forehead on her arms, Christy closed her eyes and sighed. Sven immediately appeared behind her eyelids—not as an eighteen-year-old boy with a heart of gold, but as an impassive forty-five-year-old man who radiated keep-out vibes. He’d matured into a tall broad-shouldered grump with salt-and-pepper scruff that suited his guarded personality. Spending time with him would be a mistake, especially since she was leaving again soon.
But how can I say no to his daughter?
Brenna would continue to ask after every brush-off, of that she had no doubt.
Can I survive one awkward meal with him? Thank god, I’m busy all day tomorrow with the Claus for a Cause fundraiser.
Her phone hummed near her elbow, forcing her to make the decision.
A pleading-face emoji followed the name and address of the restaurant and the time. Someone almost certainly had a lot of experience wrapping people around her little finger.
“I’ll see you then.”
It was the only response that wouldn’t result in massive self-reproach.
“Yay!!! I knew I’d wear you down eventually. Ha!”
A reluctant smile slipped free, warning Christy she had a major weakness where Brenna was concerned. Fortunately, no one and nothing could ever convince her to make Creekside her home again.
She toted the laptop back to her office to type up her observations and recommendations, based on how the firsttherapy appointment had gone. The habit of noting a patient’s starting point and progress distracted her from the past, the present, and what could’ve been until another text arrived.
“La Cocina is an 8-minute drive from the clinic and a 6-minute drive from your house with Friday traffic.”
Despite the reindeer flying in circles in her stomach, she managed a chuckle at the messenger’s persistence. As she shut down her computer, another message announced its arrival.
“Time to put your coat on—and your shoes, if you’re at home and took them off.”
This time she shook her head, but she did what she’d been told. She’d no sooner buttoned her wool coat than more instructions popped into the one-sided conversation.
“No time to go to the bathroom! There’s a nice one where you’re going. Grab your keys and purse and get in the car!”
A bark of laughter escaped, overtaking the case of nerves. Her dinner date evidently had no qualms about making things happen.
On her way to the parking lot, Christy tapped in a reply.“I’m going. I’m going.”
“Good. See you in a few!”
Skirting Creekside’s downtown, she arrived seven minutes later—right behind the pickup truck Sven and his daughter had driven to the house she’d inherited. She pulled into the closest empty space and used her rearview mirror to watch them park in an accessible spot near the entrance.
As Christy gathered her purse and adjusted her scarf, Sven retrieved Brenna’s wheelchair from the covered bed, rolled it to the passenger side, and locked the wheels to keep it from moving. His care and gentleness as he transferred her into the chair backed up her earlier assertion that he was an awesome parent.
Christy trailed them into the restaurant with her heart in her throat. If her father had ever treated her with such kindness, she didn’t remember it.
“Christy, you’re here! You already met my dad, so you two can chat while I go see about getting a table.” Brenna wasted no time excusing her way through the group of people in front of her.
Sven clenched his scruffy jaw, like he wanted to be anywhere other than here, and he didn’t look away from the direction his daughter had gone. “Thanks for emailing Bee with the answers to my questions about the house.”
She ignored his gruff tone since it seemed to be his default around her. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m working on lining up an engineer to checks things out too.” His voice softened somewhat, but his face remained unreadable. “Is it okay if I come over and inspect the roof on Sunday?”
“Yes. Sure.” Catching sight of Brenna waving them toward her, Christy stepped forward, glad for the inadvertent rescue. “Looks like our table is ready.”