Charlie Foxtrot (Book 2 of Love is War Series)

Chapter 2

"Merry Christmas!" Muse squealed as she opened the door. Her father and brother, Bryant and Drew, had finally arrived. It took a little longer for them to travel across town since Mr. Anderson's back had been bothering him some and he moved slower in response to his pain. Without the normal narcotics he'd used for the pain, he was struggling.

Muse squeezed her brother hard but was gentler with her father, who couldn't be said to be fragile, but his bones were weaker with age, and his injury still bothered him enough that she was very aware of his aches and pains.

"Daddy! Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, pumpkin." Her father's voice had slowly withered a little with age. Not so sloppy and slurred without all the drugs dulling the edges of his suffering, but a little brighter just the same. He'd decided to get professional help right after Muse's wedding, and he'd stuck to his guns.

"Mr. Anderson..." Clay had come up to him to shake his hand, but the older man brusquely pushed it aside and pulled his son-in-law for a hug.

"Bah! I told you at the reception, Clay. Call me Bryant or Dad—either or. None of this Mr. Bryant crap. I'm your father-in-law, not a business associate. You don't need to sell me on you. You're already married to my daughter."

Clay's lips twitched in amusement. Bryant acted like an older, more laidback version of himself sometimes. "Good to have you here, Bryant. My little hummingbird has been singing so many damn Christmas songs in expectation of the holiday, it's like living at the local Starbucks. If I hear another note of Mariah Carey's—"

"Oh, hush, Clay. That song is on all the time, and it's catchy as hell. It's like if you hear it once, it literally will run on a loop nonstop in your head. It's the Mariah effect. Staggering since the woman has an inexplicable vocal range. Why anyone would even try to sing along with her is amazing to me."

"Sweetheart, why don't we let your family in the damn house already? It's not like it's cold in Tampa, but the wind chill is a little brisk today."

"Oh, right." Muse's resulting peal of laughter was almost giddy. Clay's wife loved to give gifts, and now that she could afford more lavish ones, she'd had more fun selecting things she knew her loved ones would enjoy. Before this, it had been penny-pinching careful planning every time.

It was just around noon on Christmas day, and Jim, Clay, Marietta, Muse, Drew, Bryant, Sarah, and Clay's father, also named Clay, were in attendance, but Mary was going to leave in a couple of hours to go to her sister's house and celebrate with her niece and sister. Clay couldn't remember the sister's name, but the niece he knew, because she would be working at CBC come the New Year. Auden Fenn was a transplant to Tampa from the East Coast of Florida. Her new employer knew very little about her except that she had experience in administrative work and was related to his old nanny-turned-housekeeper. The rest was a bit of a mystery, but he figured he knew enough to know that something was wrong. She was quiet. Too quiet sometimes. Something was missing in the equation, but it seemed too personal for him to ask about. He needed an employee, not some heart-to-heart time with his housekeeper's niece.

Marietta and Muse went off to get some drinks for Drew and her father, and Clay escorted their most recent guests to the Great Room. It was where Muse had put up a huge tree and spent a full day and a half decorating it. Clay thought she went a little overboard, but it made her happy and he had plenty of money to spare. Her happiness had meant everything to him for a while now, even if he hadn't known it at first—or shown it—at first.

"Beer, Drew? Dad?"

"Water for me, sweetheart!"

"Water as well, sis. I'm driving later."