Angels in the Snow

Angels in the Snow

by Natalie Brunwick

© 2018 Natalie Brunwick

This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any way, including information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

Keep up to date on Natalie’s new and upcoming releases by visiting her website or joining her newsletter.

Chapter One

Man, I love this time of year. Don’t you?

Stacey stomped the snow off her shoes as big white flakes clung to her auburn hair. She then removed her gloves and shoved them in her pockets, hanging her coat in the closet a moment later along with her scarf.

I offered her a tight smile and returned to my work, reading over the case file I’d looked over the day before. Truth be told, I had no idea where all of her energy came from. Ever since she’d decorated the office, her get-up-and-go attitude had multiplied. To say it was exhausting would’ve been a complete understatement, and trying to keep up given the case at hand was nearly impossible.

If I’d known how much she loved the holidays, I would’ve given her the entire month off. Instead, the Monday after Thanksgiving, I’d had the misfortune of walking into my office shortly after Santa had thrown up all over the place. There were scented garlands and tinsel everywhere.

Our clients loved it, of course, but I can’t even begin to tell you how much of the stuff ended up going home with me.

You have any plans for tomorrow? Stacey asked from the doorway.

Probably just going to sit in and have some lasagna. It’s a pajama day for me. The only one of the year, in fact.

Lasagna? She pushed off the door frame and closed the distance between us, resting her hip on the edge of my desk. That’s a funny thing to have for the holidays.

It’s better than having pizza, I said. To be honest, I’d settled for either one.

Let me take you out tonight. You never have any fun. It’s always work, work, work. When’s the last time you took a day off?

Tomorrow.

"Your last day. She gave me a pointed look. You can’t remember, can you? With an exasperated sigh, she shoved off the edge of the desk, then came around to crouch in front of me. Will you please, please come out with me tonight? The tree’s going up around seven and everyone will be there."

Oh yes, the tree they put up a day before having to take it back down again. That tree.

I rolled my eyes. They used to put it up right after Thanksgiving, but because it was so big, they started doing it last minute. Apparently, it was great for business as most folks were in the holiday spirit. Not me. I hated it. The lights. The ornaments. All of it.

The way Stacey looked at me then with her big doe eyes, I honestly didn’t have a choice.

Fine, I said, leaning my head back against the chair. But only because I can’t stand it when you beg.

She popped up from her space on the floor and threw her arms around me. You won’t regret it. Promise.

I already did.

My heart seized from her tight embrace, and by the time I realized I was supposed to hug her back, she pulled away. I, uh… I’m not a big hugger, I said, averting my gaze. Heat rushed into my cheeks. With any luck, she didn’t notice.

The energetic smile never left her face. "You might act like a Scrooge with all your bah humbugs, but there has to be a part of this holiday you like."

Scrooge never went out for drinks with his employees, I told her. In fact, we went out last month.

"True, but I wouldn’t say it was a pleasant experience, either. We talked about the Martins case the entire time. Just this once, I’d like to see you kick back, unwind, and leave work where it belongs."

And where is that? I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

In your office! She shook her arms above her head in frustration.

How can you not think about them? It seemed as though the closer we got to the holidays, the worse our cases became. Kids were ripped from their homes, their families torn apart. It was all the same, every one of them sad, bitter, and broken.

Because I distance myself. When I met her gaze, Stacey’s smile was no longer there. Jill, the more time you spend on those files, the more you’re going to lose yourself. There’s only so much we can do for them, but you won’t be able to help anyone if you fall apart.

She was right, of course, but I couldn’t put that wall between myself and our clients. At least not in the way she had done.

Back when I interned for Simon and Graff, I thought I was invincible, I began, refusing to meet her eyes. It was so much easier working under someone else because it gave me a buffer. Now, I have no choice but to face all the facts head-on. Sometimes I miss it… working for someone else, I clarified, realizing I wasn’t exactly talking in complete sentences.

She nodded her understanding, then pulled a chair closer to the desk before sitting down. And I realize I can’t possibly get the full weight this places on your shoulders, but that’s also because you don’t let me.

You don’t want this burden, trust me. I didn’t even want it, but it was a big part of what we did.

I do if it means seeing you smile every once and a while. She took my hands in hers, holding them between us. Her touch was as warm as her smile, and I found myself staring at her slender hands as that warmth gently reached under my skin. "You barely talk to me about them unless we’re out having drinks. It’s almost like I’m your personal secretary.

The clients spend five minutes with me and over an hour with you. I normally wouldn’t mind having the free time, but look at what it’s done… what it’s still doing to you. You can’t keep going like this and expect it to get easier unless you change something."

How can you be so energetic and happy when there are families who won’t get to experience the same happiness as you?

Because it isn’t my life. She held up her hands before I could say anything. "I’m not trying to sound heartless but at the end of the day it’s just me and my cats. I don’t have to worry about our clients because they aren’t my family. I love that you care about them so much, I truly do—"

But? I hedged, not really sure if I wanted to know the answer.

You need to know when to let go. I’ve known you for close to six months, but I’ve never seen you happy. Ever since our first client walked through those doors, you’ve been consumed by your work. You can do that for a little while, but eventually, it’s going to beak you. You’ll end up hating this job, and if you don’t mind my saying it, I really don’t want to get stuck working for Simon and Graff.

I laughed at that. A small, uncomfortable laugh but one all the same. I promise I’ll try harder next time.

Not next time. Now. She glared at me and crossed her arms over her chest. Her stern expression only lasted so long. Before I knew it, there was that smile again. Her warm, contagious smile.

I pushed the papers on my desk aside and offered her a partial shrug. There was no way I was going to win this. No time like the present, huh?

Does that mean you’ll go out with me tonight? she asked hopefully. I’d ask my sister but she’s about ready to pop out another kid. I don’t think she’ll be in a walking mood.

Yes, I’ll go with you. Who knows, it might even be fun. I could’ve sworn Stacey’s jaw hit the floor.

You just said the F word! I didn’t think it was in your vocabulary.

I batted at her. Oh please. I’m not that bad.

You kind of are. With her grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s, Stacey got up, put the chair back where she found it, then grabbed her coat from inside the closet door. I was about to ask where she was going when she took a box out of one of the front pockets only to hand it to me a moment later. Merry Christmas, Jill. She turned on her heels and walked across the hall before I could say anything else.

A smile played on my lips as I watched her go. Her hips swayed this way and that, her dark slacks hugging her form perfectly. You’re staring, Jill. I closed my eyes and counted to ten before opening them again. Across the hall, Stacey’s door was ajar, the frosted glass showing off her profile as I did my best not to imagine what it would be like to spend an entire day with her, to not have to worry about work and let it all go. She made it look so easy. Effortless, even. Maybe it was because I didn’t give her enough to do, but she was so… perfect. I couldn’t stand the thought of breaking