The Asheville Christmas Tradition (Carolina Christmas #4)

17. Angie

“So, I guess the good news is none of you have to work this weekend and anyone who wants to put in for paid time off next week is free to do so.” Elliott leaned back and scanned the faces of the curator staff around the table. “Merry Christmas…I guess.”

No one laughed or even smiled, making Angie’s heart break. She’d felt as shattered as Elliott Quinn looked when he called the meeting today with the sad and sorry news that The Adoration of the Magi would not be coming as a featured holiday art exhibit after all.

After the stunned reaction, the team only had a few questions, a couple of bitter comments directed toward the offending museum—which weren’t too bitter, considering it was the Louvre —and some weak words of encouragement. Elliott fielded all of that with grace, honesty, and a bit of gallows humor.

When the meeting ended, the team rose, chatting softly with each other, a few wishing each other Merry Christmas as they filed out.

Angie stayed seated, very slowly closing a notebook she hadn’t needed, reluctant to join the parade of well-wishers out the door. Elliott put some papers in a folder, checked his phone, and finally, when they were alone, looked across the conference room table at her.

“Well, that went about as expected.”

She gave him a sad smile. “You handled it well and I don’t think anyone’s mad about extra days off.”

He stood slowly, picking up the file and phone, all the while holding her gaze. “I could feel your support, Angel. Thanks.”

“Of course. I know you were cheated by the Louvre.”

“You know and I know. My boss up in corporate?” He rounded the table and walked down to where she sat, pulling out the chair next to her and dropping into it. “He just thinks he made a big fat mistake hiring me.”

She winced, inching back. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, I think I’m the subject of more than a few meetings this holiday.” He shrugged. “And a month ago, I wouldn’t have been able to say this, since I came in with the small-mindedness of a big-city guy. But…” He added a slight emphasis. “I have found quite a few things to like in this town. One in particular that I like very much.”

Her heart swooped around in her chest like a teenager’s. “Yep. I get that,” she said, trying to keep it light.

“Stupid me,” he added.

“How so?”

“Falling for someone right as I’m about to get the royal boot out the door.”

She searched his face, not hearing too much after the “falling for” part. “Do you really think they’d fire you over this? It wasn’t even remotely your fault.”

“I don’t know. Apparently, there’s a meeting of the department heads tomorrow to finalize a number of staffing issues. My boss said to meet him at the downtown offices on Saturday morning for the decision, one way or another.”

“Eeesh. And on a weekend, too. I’m sorry,” she added. “And sad.”

“Are you?”

She turned her hand, threading their fingers. “Hey, I don’t bash into just anybody’s car, you know.”

Chuckling, he leaned a little closer. “Was it all part of your evil plan to steal my heart?”

“Did I?” she asked, the very idea making her head a little light.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know, Elliott. I can’t remember the last time I stole…a heart.”

He exhaled softly. “Consider mine whisked away by a thief in the night. So, since I’ll know my fate on Saturday, why don’t we go out that night? We can celebrate or cry in our beer. Or another bottle of good merlot.”

“Saturday is the tree?—”

Diana poked her head in and they both dropped their hands and backed away, probably looking guilty as sin. “Angie, there’s someone here to see you.”

“Me?” She stood, shaking off the intimate moment. “Who could?—”

“It’s me!” Noelle called from behind Diana, suddenly appearing in the doorway, totally surprising Angie. “I kind of need an emergency favor. Are you busy?”

“She’s all yours,” Elliott said, standing quickly.

“Noelle, what are you doing here?” Angie asked.

“Begging.” She turned to Diana. “Thank you for finding her.” Then she walked in, her attention split between Elliott and Angie. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I can wait in your office if?—”

“No, no, it’s fine. We were just talking. Elliott Quinn, this is my sister, Noelle Fleming. Noelle, meet Elliott.”

“Ohhh,” they both let out the exclamation of recognition in perfect unison, then laughed.

“One of the triplets,” he said.

“The new boss,” she replied.

“It’s like you already know each other,” Angie quipped. “Yes and yes. Is everything okay?” she asked Noelle, since the in-person visit was rare and unexpected.

“I need generators,” Noelle said. “And I need them bad. Did you know we’re having a massive snowstorm tomorrow? The tree lighting is the day after and nothing will light if there’s no power. Can I borrow generators?”

“Can she?” Angie asked Elliott.

“I have no idea, but if I wanted to find a generator and arrange to borrow it, I’d ask you,” he said on a laugh. “And if you need my permission to take them off-site, you have it.” He winked at her. “Not much to lose if I get in trouble, eh?”

She gave a dry laugh at that. “I actually do know where to get them, if we have extras. There’s an equipment manager on the estate and if anyone at the Biltmore will have generators, it’s Bucky. I had to use them when we lost power during a big lightning storm last summer.”

“I cannot thank you enough for this,” Noelle said. “I will pay or do anything.”

“Not necessary,” Elliott assured her, eyeing Noelle as if he were looking for similarities to Angie and, of course, they were there. “You’re Angel’s sister and that’s all I need to know. I’ll leave you to it, ladies. And…” He looked at Angie. “I’ll text you about Saturday.”

“Okay, great.” She felt a soft flush when he left, but more because of the curious way her sister was looking at her than the personal exchange.

“Did I, uh, walk in on something… Angel ?” Noelle asked, lifting a brow.

The flush deepened, but she added a soft laugh because, after all, this was Noelle. “Maybe almost. And yes, we’re going out on Saturday.”

“I hope by ‘going out’ you mean bringing generators to the tree lighting.” She made a face. “Sorry to be single-minded.”

“It’s fine. It’s you.” Sighing, she reached for her phone to place the call to the equipment manager, who would definitely be the keeper of the generators. “Elliott’s probably leaving anyway.”

“What? Why? Didn’t he just get here?”

“It’s a really long story, but…” She tapped her contacts and found the manager’s name. “Hang on. Let me find out what’s possible.”

Angie had the conversation with Bucky, who promised to call her back in ten minutes, so while they waited, Angie walked back to her office with Noelle.

There, with the door closed, she told her sister the whole story of the Magi being yanked by the Louvre.

“That’s truly preposterous,” Noelle said. “And also, sadly normal. Especially with the big guys like the Met and Louvre. They love nothing more than to throw their weight around.”

“So should he lose his job over it?”

She flinched and shook her head. “Gah, no. Man, I don’t miss corporate life anymore. It’s so…capricious. Who knows what politics are going on in the background or who wants their own person in the spot?”

Angie nodded, knowing there was plenty of politics. “Don’t they realize that lives—and budding romances—are at stake?”

“You like him.” It wasn’t a question, and Angie appreciated that. Noelle knew her as well as anyone, just like Eve did.

“A lot,” Angie admitted, and it felt good to say so. “But my timing is bad and our geography could be highly undesirable. There’s one museum in Asheville.”

“Plenty of art galleries, though.”

“He’s a curator,” Angie said. “And I was really enjoying watching him start to find the beauty in this place.”

“Shouldn’t be hard,” Noelle said. “There’s beauty everywhere.” She leaned over the desk and grinned. “Especially in this office.”

“Stop.” Her cell buzzed and Bucky’s name flashed. “Save your flirtatious energy for the equipment manager, who might need to be sweet-talked into generators.” She tapped the phone and put it on speaker. “Talk to me, Bucky.”

“I can part with two of them,” he said without preamble. “But you have to pick them up on Saturday at two and have them back by Sunday morning.”

Noelle nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll get Jace’s truck. Yes, please.”

“Done and done, Bucky,” Angie said. “We’ll be there on Saturday at two.” She hung up and gave Noelle a victorious look. “I’ll help you because I know the guy.”

“I love you,” Noelle said, reaching across the desk. “You know I mean that. I wish I could help you. Wish I could find a job for your new boyfriend.”

“He’s not…” She just waved it off. “You want to help? Call in a favor at the Met and get a replacement for The Adoration of the Magi. Surely they can part with a Rembrandt or two.”

Noelle snorted. “The Met? I’d have to sell my firstborn and…” Her voice faded out for a second, making Angie look closer when she didn’t finish.

“Well, you’re not giving up Cassie for love or money.”

Noelle just stared at her.

“Cassie?” Angie said. “You know, your daughter?”

Noelle nodded, clearly distracted. “I do. She had to come home early from a grandma sleepover because she missed me.”

“Aww.” Angie beamed. “I love that you have her, Noelle.”

“I love that I do, too.” She stood and grabbed her bag. “I also love that you got me two generators and I swear, if I could pull a famous painting out of thin air for you, I would.”

“I understand that you can’t.”

She blew a kiss and went to the door, opening it, then turning and looking at Angie for a long moment.

“I’m waiting for the parting ‘Angel’ shot,” Angie joked.

“No, no. I just…never mind. Thanks again, Ang. You da best.” One more blown kiss and Noelle was gone, leaving a faint trail of her beautiful perfume and a smile on Angie’s face.

Then she remembered she had a date with Elliott on Saturday night and that smile grew bigger.