Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(79)

“Normally, the answer would be no. But I know you’ve had a hard time this evening, so you can leave when the guests do.”

“Thank you.”

“All right now. Chin up. We are going to walk into that ballroom smiling like we don’t have a care in the world. Understand?”

No, but that didn’t matter right now. “One smiling granddaughter, coming up.”

Plastering a grin on her face, she accompanied her grandmother into the small ballroom, where families congregated around individual Christmas trees. It looked like a scene out of a movie rather than something in real life.

Her grandfather stood there surveying his domain like the lord and master he thought he was. “You’re late,” he said without changing his facial expression—like a ventriloquist who could talk through a fake smile.

“No harm done.” Her grandmother reached down and pulled a shoe box–sized rectangular package from under the tree and handed it to him.

Why did he get the first gift? You’d think they’d let the little kids go first.

He carefully opened the package without ripping the paper. Inside was a box of cigars that reeked from three feet away.

“Thank you, Marie. This is perfect. I was running low.”

“You’re welcome.”

Stepford wasn’t a strong enough description for this exchange. Disingenuous might be better. Was this the same thing her grandfather said to her grandmother every year?

Her grandfather pulled a small blue velvet jeweler’s box from his pocket and handed it to his wife. She popped the lid and smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Turning the box so Bryn could see, she said, “Aren’t they lovely?”

The teardrop sapphire-and-diamond earrings were amazing, but they didn’t seem to mean anything to either of her grandparents.

“They’re beautiful,” Bryn said. She wanted to add, and you people are crazy, but that wouldn’t help the situation.

Her grandfather nodded, like her response was appropriate. He pulled a long thin blue velvet box from his other pocket and handed it to Bryn. The plant-of-the-month and dessert-of-the-month club memberships she’d bought for them seemed vastly inappropriate now.

Popping the lid open on the box, her breath caught in her throat. A sapphire-and-diamond bracelet winked at her from the box. “It’s gorgeous.”

Both grandparents seemed pleased by her reaction.

“Let’s see what it looks like on.” Her grandmother removed the bracelet from the box and fastened it around Bryn’s left wrist, where it fit snugly enough that it couldn’t come off over her hand. She moved her wrist back and forth in the light, watching the stones sparkle.

“I love it. Thank you.” Without thinking about it, she leaned in and kissed her grandmother on the cheek and then did the same thing to her grandfather. He appeared embarrassed, but something in his expression softened.

Were they not supposed to do public displays of affection? She didn’t care right now. “You’ll probably think my gifts for you are lame. I can tell you what they are if you want, or you can be surprised.”

“What did you buy?” her grandfather asked.

“Since you seem to like food as much as I do, I bought you a dessert-of-the-month-club membership.” She shrugged. “You’re kind of hard to buy for since you seem to own everything already.”

He grinned.

To her grandmother she said, “I knew you loved gardening, so I bought a plant-of-the-month-club membership for you. I hope that’s not stupid.”

“I think it’s thoughtful,” her grandmother said. “And we can take care of the plants together so I can teach you how to garden.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’m not sharing my dessert,” her grandfather said in a deadpan tone.

Bryn laughed. For a moment, all was right in her world, or if not right, at least not bad.

Waitstaff rolled in silver carts covered with steaming china cups of hot cocoa. Half of the drinks had a large marshmallow floating in the chocolate-colored liquid. The others were plain.

The scent of chocolate mingled with the fresh-cut-pine scent of the trees and created a happy smell.

“Cocoa?” her grandmother asked.

“Yes.” Bryn headed toward a cart and arrived at the same time as Jaxon, who actually wore a genuine smile on his face.

“Was Santa good to you this year?” she asked.

He held out a set of car keys dangling from a key fob with an emblem she didn’t recognize.

“You got a car?”

He looked at her like she had two heads. “Not just a car, it’s a Bugatti Veyron. There are only three hundred made a year.”

Okay. So it was a fancy elite snobby car. “Oh, that’s great.” She tried not to laugh, but he continued to glare at her.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about cars. I’m sure yours is the best car ever invented and everyone will be jealous. There, is that better?”

“That’s what you should’ve said the first time.” He reached for a cup of cocoa with a marshmallow and offered it to her. “I assume this is what you want.”

“How did you know?”

“I’ve seen you eat. ‘Less is more’ isn’t an adage that applies to your diet.”