One More for Christmas(9)

“You’re the best boss on the planet, and I might cry.” Charlotte sniffed. “Yes, I’m going to cry. It’s your fault for being kind. I’m so emotional right now. Even the news makes me sob.”

“The news makes me sob, too, and I’m not hormonal.” Samantha pushed tissues across her desk. “Here. You’re doing great, Charlotte.”

“I’m not as sharp as I used to be. My brain feels soggy. I cut Mr. Davidson off instead of putting him through.”

“And you immediately called him back, and he was completely understanding—so don’t worry. He’s not likely to forget that you were the one who arranged to fly him home when he had a heart attack in India and that you visited him in the hospital.”

“He’s a dear man.” Charlotte took a handful of tissues, stuffed a few into her bra and blew her nose with the others. “I’m worried I’ll lose you a client.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Samantha stood up and walked round her desk. “Are you doing okay? Are you just tired, or is it something more? Because if you need time off—”

“No. Honestly, I’m fine. It’s an adjustment, that’s all. I love my job, and I want to be here, but I want to be with Amy, too. I feel like a terrible employee and a terrible mother.”

“You’re wonderful at both—just very hard on yourself. You’ll get back into it. Don’t worry.”

“That’s what my mom says...but I’m worried you’ll want me to leave.”

“Charlotte!” Samantha was horrified. “You were the first person I employed. We’ve been in this together from the beginning.”

Charlotte gave a watery smile. “Christmas every day, right?”

“Exactly! You are brilliant at your job. I am never letting you leave! For a start, you know every single thing about every single client, which is a big part of the reason we’re doing so well. And there is no crisis you can’t handle. You masterminded the search for Mrs. Davidson’s precious cat while she was in the Arctic, for goodness’ sake.”

Charlotte’s smile turned to a laugh. “That cat was vicious. I’m sure the neighbors let it out on purpose.”

“Maybe, but she loved that animal and you fixed it. It’s what you do. You’re just having a difficult time, that’s all. But you’ll get through it. We’ll get through it. You have a job as long as you want one, and I hope that’s a very long time.”

“Thank you.” Charlotte blew her nose hard and picked up one of the photos on Samantha’s desk. “New photo? I haven’t seen this one.”

“Ella sent it last week. Apparently Tab is going through a princess phase.”

“And, knowing you, you’ve already sent her four sparkling princess costumes.”

“Two...” Had she gone over-the-top? “I just happened to see a couple on my way home. I wasn’t sure which one she’d prefer.”

“The doting aunt.” Charlotte put the photo back. “Your niece is gorgeous. I can’t imagine Amy being four and a half. Tab must be so excited about the holidays.”

“She is. I’m going there this weekend, and we’re going to make decorations for the tree.”

“I can’t wait until Amy is old enough to do that. This will be her first Christmas, and we’ve already bought way too much, considering she isn’t going to remember any of it.”

“Did you have messages for me?” Sam prompted gently, and Charlotte produced her tablet from under her arm.

“Yes.” She tapped the tablet. “Eight messages. The Wilsons called to give the go-ahead for Lapland. They want the whole package—reindeer, elves, Santa—but they’re not sure about the husky sled ride.”

“They’d love it,” Samantha murmured. “Providing they dress for the weather they’ll have a blast. I’ll give them a call and talk it through. Next?”

She sat down at her desk, dealing with each message in turn, scribbling a few notes to herself. Some she asked Charlotte to deal with; some she chose to deal with personally.

“The Mortons are an adventurous family—they’d love Iceland. We’ll book them on a tour to see the Northern Lights, and they can do that snowmobile safari on a glacier that was such a hit with that family from Ohio.”

“The Dawsons.”

“Right. Also the ice caves. Anything else?”

“Brodie McIntyre called.”

Samantha didn’t recognize the name. “New client?”

“He owns that estate in the Scottish Highlands.”

“Kinleven?”

Charlotte checked her notes. “That’s the one. Amazing lodge, complete with fairy-tale turrets. You read about it in that magazine and then asked me to contact him after we had that inquiry from the family in Seattle. We talked about it last month and I called him.”

“Of course. House parties in a remote Scottish glen... Don’t they have an actual reindeer herd?” Samantha leaned back in her chair. “I know it’s not something we’ve offered before, but I feel in my gut it would work. Everyone is wild about Scotland—particularly for the holidays—and the place is by a loch, on the edge of a forest. Guests could cut their own Christmas tree. A fresh one that actually smells of the forest, and not of chemicals. The possibilities are endless. Whiskey in front of a roaring log fire... Maybe we could add a couple of nights in Edinburgh for Hogmanay.” She saw Charlotte’s expression. “New Year’s Eve.”