Part of me wanted to cancel and spend the rest of Christmas Day drinking scotch, eating the chocolate-covered potato chips Mark’s kids had sent me from Fargo, and watching old Jimmy Stewart movies, but I liked Lucas and Mia. I hadn’t seen them in a while, and I’d always felt I owed him a debt of gratitude for recommending me to John Sawyer. Plus, lying around the house wasn’t going to put me in a better mood, and going into work was out of the question. What if Sylvia saw my truck and came looking for me?

She trusted me to behave, and I’d said I would.

But it wasn’t going to be easy.

* * *

“Hi, Henry! Merry Christmas!” Mia Fournier kissed both my cheeks before giving me a hug. She was short and slender, with shoulder-length brown hair and a bright, welcoming smile.

“Merry Christmas.” I handed her a bottle of wine and a box of chocolate-covered cherries.

“Mmmm, thank you,” she said, shutting the huge oak door of their impressive home behind me. Their winery was similar to Cloverleigh Farms in that they grew many of the same grapes we did, held weddings and other events on the premises, and had an excellent reputation, but it was a little smaller and much different in style. While Cloverleigh retained the feeling of an American farm, Abelard was built in the image of a French château, a nod to Lucas’s heritage and their history—they’d actually met in France. Their house, with its steeply pitched roofline, limestone facade, and corner turrets, would have fit perfectly in the French countryside.

Two kids—a boy and a girl—went racing by, shouting at the top of their lungs, followed by a boy several years younger, who clearly struggled to keep up with his big brother and sister. In fact, he tripped and fell flat on his face. But without missing a beat, the kid picked himself up and took off running again, making me laugh.

Mia sighed. “I’d make them all come back and greet you, but I don’t have the energy to yell. They got up so early to open presents this morning and have been going like that ever since.”

I squelched the pang of envy. “I bet.”

“Come on in.” She motioned for me to follow her. “Lucas is in the kitchen. We have some other people coming for dinner, but they’re not here quite yet. I think you’ll know them—my friends Coco and Nick Lupo and their kids; my assistant Skylar Pryce, her husband Sebastian and their kids.”

“Sure, I know them. Sebastian Pryce is my lawyer, actually.”

“Oh, is he?” Mia smiled at me over her shoulder. “Such a great guy.”

“He is.”

“My friend Coco is actually interviewing at Cloverleigh Farms after the holidays,” Mia added.

“Oh, really? For what position?”