Dear Angela,

Thank you for your prompt reply. I look forward to discussing my future at the firm, as I am keen to continue developing professionally and agree that I am ready for the next challenge under your stewardship. I’ve CC’d Trevor on this email, as I am sure he will be pleased to hear of this next chapter in our division.

Happy New Year!

Best,

Lucy

She sent the email and blew out a satisfied sigh. Will leant over and read it. “Who’s Trevor?”

“Her manager, the VP of Finance,” she replied simply as she stared off into the fireplace. “The fire!” she declared, jumping up from the sofa. Lucy used the fire iron beside the fireplace to move the coals around, then added two more logs. She stood watching the logs catch, mesmerised by the flames.

“That was awesome,” said Will behind her.

“What, stoking a fire? I should hope so. Three years of Brownies, four years of Guides, and a father who insisted I learn how to look after a fire properly.”

Will chuckled and she turned. “Well, yes, you did lay those logs with a precision I haven’t seen before, but I meant the email.”

“Oh, right. You don’t think I’m going to get a right bollocking for it? She could have me sacked for insolence, you know.”

“Firstly, there is no way she can fire you after that email. Copying her boss in like that was genius. It comes across as genuine, so if she was legit talking about a promotion, you seemed sincerely into that, and if she was going to fire you, well, checkmate. She’s got nowhere to go. She’d come off as spiteful, maybe even delusional.” He got up from the sofa and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You, Lucy Browning, are incredible,” he said softly.

“Really?” All her bravado, the Dutch courage from the whisky—or should that be Scotch courage? she wondered—dissipated and she felt like herself again, trembling under the weight of what she’d just done. What if she lost her job?

“Hey …” Will must have read the consternation on her face. “You have nothing to worry about. If you want, we could call my mom. She’ll tell you the same thing, believe me. You played that perfectly and your job is safe. Okay?”

Lucy nodded absentmindedly as she sifted through everything she was feeling. So much had happened in just a few short days. She’d thought she was coming to a winter wonderland to experience a proper white Christmas, but she’d been hauled into family mini-dramas, there’d been the dilemma with Angela, and she was currently not on speaking terms with one of her best friends.

And then there was Will—gorgeous, lovely Will, who had come here early to set all this up, who was looking at her as though he believed she could do anything.

And he was right, she realised.

She could do anything. She’d just stood up to her bully of a manager. She’d survived the Christmas madness of a large family—happily, she realised, as she thought of Jackie’s brood. She’d even skied down a giant mountain! Granted, it was on the easy slopes, but she had done it. Her! Lucy Browning, from Penham, Oxfordshire had accomplished more in a few days than she could ever have imagined.