She made a plan as she biked. She would not allow herself to obsess over Andy Bittlesman or over the rent hike. She’d keep herself busy making a stew, and maybe her mind, simmering on the back burner, so to speak, would surprise her with a solution.

Inside her house, she turned on the lights of her tree and sat admiring it for a few moments while Mittens curled in her lap purring loudly, glad Christina was home.

It was hard to be unhappy in the presence of an adoring cat and a beautiful Christmas tree, but the rent hike stabbed at her thoughts like a spear.

Ten percent? She would have to close her shop.

She went into the kitchen, prepared Mittens her evening feast, tied on an apron, and began putting together her stew. Somehow slicing carrots, potatoes, and parsnips was calming. She browned the stew meat, the minced garlic, and the chopped onions in olive oil, poured water and a good helping of red wine into the pot, covered it all, and let it simmer.

As she took off her apron, she felt much better.

The phone buzzed. Caller ID: Wink Lombard.

“Hi, sweetie,” Christina said.

“Mom wants to know, can you come to dinner here tomorrow night?”

Christina was dumbfounded. She’d spoken only a few words to Delia the night of the tree decorating party. Would Oscar Bittlesman be there? Would Andy?

Whatever, Christina was not going to pass this up!

“I’d love to come, Wink. What time?”

“Mom says six-thirty.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Chapter 8

What do you wear to dinner at a billionaire’s house?

What do you wear to dinner at an evil landlord’s house?

The same thing you wear to dinner with a child you adore and a man you were on the verge of falling for until his father hiked the rent on your shop. Did Andy know about the rent hike? Did he care? Could he appreciate what the hike would mean for Christina and the other Shedders?

Could she mentally separate Andy from his father for this one night and enjoy being around the man who made her heart beat faster?

Be careful, her Inner Christina warned her.

Christina wore a formfitting dark green silk dress and a string of pearls. Janice Harris opened the door to her knock and said, “Welcome. Wow, Christina, you look fabulous.”

“Thanks, Janice.” It meant a lot to get the other woman’s approval.

She was ushered into the living room where only a few days before she had helped put the Christmas tree in its stand. Now it was covered with very beautiful glass ornaments and, around the base, a few handmade Santas and snowflakes.

Oscar Bittlesman sat like a king in his throne in a dark leather chair near the fireplace. He wore a suit and tie and wing tips. Not the kind of guy to relax at home. Christina was glad she wore pearls.