year. He’d been grumpy all day yesterday with Amy, too; his attempt to fake good cheer as they’d decorated their tree had taken a lot out of him.
Once again, he was forced to admit what a lousy father he was. He should have been focused on his daughter, but all he could think about yesterday—and today—was that Eliza had made love with him and then run away, uninterested in pursuing anything further. She wasn’t even answering his calls.
He could take a hint, but this was one hint he resented with a deep passion. It looked as if he would be as disappointed as Amy this holiday season.
So he wasn’t sure what to think when he grabbed the cordless handset of his phone, barked, “Conor Malone,” and heard Eliza’s voice on the other end.
“Amy was in my office today.”
His first, totally irrational reaction was, how come my daughter can spend time with you and I can’t? Fortunately, he kept that thought to himself. He knew the answer: his daughter was a student. He was just some guy who’d gone bonkers over the pretty school shrink.
“No fists were involved,” Eliza assured him. “She just fell apart emotionally.”
“Was there a reason?”
“I think she was finally coming to terms with the truth about Santa,” Eliza said. “It hit her hard. She didn’t want to accept it, but she knew she had to.”
Damn. His poor baby. Accepting the truth could hurt worse than a punch in the gut—or a thousand stiletto stabs to the heart. No one knew that better than Conor did.
“I’m sorry you got dragged into it,” he said coolly. “I was going to take her to Dr. Hoffman’s this afternoon.”
“Rosalyn Hoffman is an excellent therapist,” Eliza said. “She might offer some insights different from mine. But I did get Amy stabilized. By the time she left my office, she was smiling.”
The last time Amy had smiled was when Eliza had been at their house. Even decorating the tree yesterday, Amy had been solemn, picking up her father’s gloomy vibes. It seemed as if only Eliza could brighten his daughter’s mood.
“So she doesn’t believe in Santa anymore?” he asked.
“Not the way she did before.”
Great. His daughter could now be as bitter and cynical as he was.
“I had this idea, though,” Eliza said. “A way to give her something close to what she wants for Christmas.”
“Short of reincarnation, I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“I’d like to talk to you about it, but I can’t right now. I’ve got an afternoon full of appointments.”
“What time would be good for you?” he asked, adopting her aloof, all-business tone.
“My days are pretty packed this week,” she told him. “But we could talk after work.”
“Meet me at Adler’s at four-thirty tomorrow,” he said.
“The department store?” She sounded perplexed.
“I’ve got to buy Amy some new pajamas. I figured I’d get her something before I pick her up from her after-school program at the Y.” Two birds with one stone, he thought. Eliza could explain little-girl sleepwear to him, and he could meet with her in an environment conducive to nothing remotely romantic.
She still sounded bemused when she said, “All right. Four-thirty tomorrow.”
Chapter Ten
CONOR FOUND HER waiting for him at the Hauser Boulevard entrance to Adler’s. The two inches of snow that had fallen Sunday had been shoveled off the sidewalks surrounding the department store, leaving a clear, wide path for shoppers and browsers eager to admire the festively decorated store windows. Across the street in front of the bank, a guy in a Santa suit was clanging his bell and accepting donations. A big sign by the police station requested that people drop off toys for needy children. Conor would get Amy on board with that. Given that Christmas wasn’t going to be what she wanted, he might as well take advantage of the opportunity to teach her