The Christmas Secret

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“Tempting, but I have to get to work as soon as our meeting’s over.” Too bad, because the only way she could afford to set foot in Claire’s gym was as a guest. “I went for a run first thing this morning, though.” She loved to run, especially early in the morning when the city hadn’t fully woken from its slumber. After ten minutes or so she got into the zone. With her feet pounding the pavement and her heart pounding in her chest, after her breathing went from ragged to fast and controlled, she would fix her gaze on something in the distance and her only thought was getting there. Then she’d focus on another distant spot, and another, letting her mind go blank while her stride devoured the miles. Eventually her body would tell her when it was time to quit and she had learned to listen, even though it brought her back to reality.

“Good for you. Oh, that reminds me, I signed up for the half marathon next summer. Are you entering?”

“Ah … I hope to, but I’m not sure yet.” If she did, she’d run the whole race, but as always it would depend on whether she had time to train for it.

“We should talk Kristi into signing up, too.”

Sam tried to imagine Kristi running to the end of the block. No, not going to happen. “First you’ll have to convince her to roll up her yoga mat and buy a pair of running shoes.”

Claire set her phone down and checked her watch. “Speaking of Kristi, I wonder what’s keeping her—”

Marlie waved at them with the backs of both hands. “I have work to do so why don’t you two run along down to the coffee shop and get out of my hair.” In typical Marlie fashion, it wasn’t a question. “I’ll call Kristi and tell her to meet you there.”

“Good plan.” Claire slipped her iPad into her briefcase. “Do you have everything you need?” she asked Sam.

Sam waved her clipboard and nodded. “All set.”

The late-November mist shrouding Pioneer Square made it seem even quieter than usual for that time of the morning. Several people in business attire purposefully made their way to their office buildings, a few tourists wandered around, waiting for the shops to open, and a bag lady sat on a bench feeding a gaggle of pigeons.

By the time they reached the coffee shop, Claire had taken another phone call. She nodded and pulled out her wallet when the clerk asked if she wanted her usual. Claire’s “usual” was a large mocha and a toasted bagel with cream cheese. “Sorry, can you hold on a moment please?” She pressed the mute button on her Bluetooth. “I’ll take a pot of green tea and a slice of banana loaf, as well. For Kristi,” she said to Sam. “That way we can get to work as soon as she gets here.”

“Sure thing. Large dark roast for you, right?” he asked Sam. “No room for cream?”

“That’s me.”

“Anything else?” He always asked.

Her answer was always the same. “No, thanks. I’ve already eaten.” She deliberately avoided looking at the pastries in the display case, though. She could buy half a dozen muffins at the grocery store for the cost of one of these.

Claire paid for her order and dropped a generous handful of change into the tip jar. Sam handed the clerk a pair of ones to pay for her coffee and pocketed her change. After paying for her mom’s new medication, she was back to pinching pennies. Claire, who still lived in the luxury penthouse condominium she owned with her soon-to-be ex-husband, had always been more comfortably off than either Sam or Kristi. Probably better off than Sam and Kristi put together. And although Kristi complained about her ex’s lack of financial support, she wasn’t afraid to spend money. Sam preferred to put hers away for a rainy day than spend it on coffee shop pastries.

The young man behind the counter grabbed a tray. “Have a seat. I’ll bring everything over when it’s ready.”

Claire was already seated and had ended her phone call and pulled out her iPad by the time Sam joined her and set her clipboard on the table. “I’ve gone over my notes from last week’s meeting, and I think everything we discussed has been covered.” She swiped a neatly manicured finger across the screen to bring up a fresh slate.

The young man arrived with their order.

“Sorry I’m late!” Kristi dashed in, all smiles and flyaway blond hair, lugging an oversize and overstuffed handbag and an armload of fabric and wallpaper samples. “I was going over the photos I took at the Harris house yesterday and lost track of time.” She plunked herself into a chair, dug out her laptop and a bulging leather-bound organizer, rummaged in her bag for something to write with. “There has to be a pen in here somewhere …”

Claire, never without a spare, handed one to her.

“Thank you!” she said, pouring tea into her cup. “Mmm, I needed this. How much do I owe you?”

“My treat. You can get the next one.”

“Thanks!” Kristi flipped her organizer open and laid the pen in the crease. “So, what’s on today’s agenda?”

Claire studied the screen in front of her. “The Matheson place. Where are we at with that?”

“The last thing I had to do was install the shelves in the laundry room,” Sam said. “I finished on Friday and I gave all my receipts to Marlie this morning.”

“And those shelves were the perfect way to finish off that room.” Kristi brought up a photograph on her laptop. “Aren’t they great?”

Claire leaned in for a closer look. “Oh, yes! I like the plants. Nice touch, and so unexpected in a laundry room.”

“That’s the whole idea,” Kristi said. “After people have seen a dozen houses, they’ll remember the one with the awesome laundry room.”

“Clever. What’s in the baskets?”

“I used those to store the detergent and fabric softener.”

“You gals are a pair of geniuses.” Claire started typing notes to herself. “I’ll call the Mathesons this afternoon and set up an appointment for our first open house.”

For the next twenty minutes they worked diligently through Claire’s list of projects and wrapped up by agreeing on a work plan for AJ’s house. Sam sipped her coffee and jotted notes as necessary onto the lists in her clipboard.

“We have a busy week lined up,” Kristi said when they were finished. She stuffed her paint chips and portfolio into her bag and picked up her cup. “And now that we’ve taken care of business we can move on to the good stuff.”

Sam knew exactly what she meant. Their meetings adhered to a strict rule—business before chitchat. If she’d been thinking ahead, she could have planned her getaway before the conversation turned personal. Too late now. Kristi and Claire had already shifted their focus to her, and there’d be no escape until she answered their questions.

The waiter stopped at their table. Claire handed her empty plate to him, then put her elbows on the table and propped her chin on her hands. “I’ve been dying to hear what’s up with you and the man in black.”

And here we go,Sam thought.Right on cue.

“More hot water for your tea?” the waiter asked Kristi.

“Yes, thanks. That’d be great.”

He took the pot and disappeared.

Kristi tossed her hair over her shoulders and grinned. “So … you and AJ Harris. What’s that all about?”

Sam squirmed. Even being prepared for these questions didn’t make answering them any easier. “What do you mean?”

Claire folded her paper napkin into a neat square. “Nice try. There’s something going on between you and AJ Harris.”

Sam shook her head. “Not anymore.”

“But there was. Anyone can see that.”

Reluctantly, Sam nodded. “AJ and me … it didn’t last long, and was a long time ago. He worked for his father’s company then, I’m not sure what he does now.”

“He told me he’s a freelance writer,” Claire said. “That’s why he works at home.”

“And now he has a family,” Kristi said. “When do you think he got married?”

Sam set her coffee on the table. “I assume it was after we broke up.” She only wished she was as certain of that as she sounded.

“So, when were the two of you an item?”

A lifetime ago. She shrugged. “I guess about three and a half years ago.”

“What happened?”

“I wasn’t good enough for the son of the great James Harris.”

“According to …?”

“James Harris.”

“What a jerk,” Kristi said. “It didn’t take AJ long to find someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“You saw his little boy yesterday.”

“Actually, I didn’t.” She had deliberately avoided looking at the child in the backyard.

“AJ said he was two,” Kristi said. “I’d say he has to be at least two and a half years old, which means … well, we all know what that means.”

Sam stared into the bottom of her empty coffee cup and didn’t respond. She had spent all night coming up with possible scenarios for when and how AJ had become a parent, and she hadn’t liked any of them.

“So you think the guy’s a player?” Claire asked. “His family’s loaded and men in that position never have trouble finding women, but I don’t know, he doesn’t seem like the type. Did the two of you ever talk about having kids?”

Sam shook her head. The conversation was heading down a road that was way too close to home for comfort. “We were never that serious. Like I said yesterday, I did some work for his family’s business and …”

“And …?” Claire asked.

“And …” Kristi was always prone to exaggeration. “She and AJ mixed a little pleasure with business.”

Sam’s face heated up.

“That’s obvious,” Claire said before Sam could respond. “But there’s more to it than that. The two of you must have had a connection back then because you sure as heck have one now.”

Sam thought so, too. Until James Harris told her otherwise.