Free Under the Millionaire's Mistletoe by Maureen Child Page A

her father fight past his own disappointments and worries and knew she could do no less.
    â€œYes, we do, Dad. Want me to go get them from the kitchen?”
    â€œPlease. Take them into the living room by the tree.” He stood up, still smiling tightly. “I’ll just give Clarissa a hand finding her cold medication and we’ll join you.”
    â€œOkay.” There was a knot in her throat but she wouldn’t let her father down. If he wanted to have anormal Christmas morning, then that’s exactly what they would do. As he started walking away, though, she said, “I love you, Dad.”
    His smile was warm and real as he answered, “I love you, too, Anna. Now don’t worry, all right?”
    She nodded, though her concerns were still there. But she wouldn’t contribute to her father’s worries, so she silently vowed to keep her anxiety well-hidden.
    Â 
    â€œHave you heard from him?” Tula asked later that night over a Christmas dinner of takeout tacos.
    Because Tula had no family, the two of them always had Christmas dinner together—with only one rule. Nobody cooked. So every year, they looked around for any restaurant that happened to be open. This year, it was Garcia’s Familia. The food was terrific, but Anna wasn’t enjoying it anyway.
    Hard to eat when it felt as though there was a ball of lead in the pit of your stomach.
    â€œSam?” Anna shook her head and took a sip of wine. She pushed the tines of her fork through the Mexican rice as if drawing a picture. “No. And it’s better that way. Really.”
    â€œYeah,” Tula told her. “I can see that. This is working out great for you.”
    Sighing, Anna set her plate on the coffee table and sat back on her couch. Her gaze fixed blankly on the brightly lit Christmas tree, she wondered what Sam was doing. If he missed her as much as she missed him. And she wondered how he had become so important to her in such a short length of time.
    â€œAnna, you’re miserable. Why don’t you call him?”
    She glanced at her friend and ruefully shook her head. “What would be the point? Nothing’s changed. Even ifit’s not a conscious notion, he still thinks I’m after him for his money.”
    â€œThat’s crazy,” Tula said with a snort of derision. Picking up her wine, she took a drink and said, “You had a fight. People always say things they don’t mean in a fight.”
    â€œOr the truth comes out,” Anna suggested. She’d already had this same conversation with herself a dozen times. She’d thought about that last fight from every angle and each time she came to one conclusion. “Either way, it’s just over.”
    The phone rang, but she didn’t move to pick it up. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone anyway. Her heart hurt, not just for what she’d lost in Sam, but for her father. And there was nothing she could do about either situation.
    â€œYou’re not going to get that?” Tula asked.
    She shook her head. “Let the machine pick it up.”
    Which it did a moment later. She listened to her outgoing message and then her heart jolted at the sound of Sam’s voice.
    â€œAnna?” His deep voice sounded commanding. “If you’re there, pick up.”
    Tula waved at her frantically, but Anna shook her head again. She had to curl her fingers into fists to keep from reaching for the stupid phone, but she did it. She couldn’t talk to him. Not now. Maybe not ever again. It was hard, but it would be even more difficult if she didn’t stay strong.
    Sam sighed into the phone, then said, “Listen, I, uh, wanted to say merry Christmas—”
    Anna’s heart tugged a little at that and the twisting pain made her close her eyes. If things had been different, Sam might have been here right now, with her and Tula,having dinner and laughing. But things weren’t different