Chapter Four – Dreaming of a white Christmas.
She still hadn’t outgrown her hope – her belief – that Christmastime could magically make things happen, Blair realized as she wrestled with a jar of strained peas at the wet bar of Chuck’s suite later that night.
Despite being twenty-eight fun-filled years old, she still harbored a girlish belief that the holidays brought a special measure of goodwill and cheer, hopefully wrapped in a Tiffany’s box. And her baru saja trip between the office and the Palace Hotel had done nothing to change her mind.
Even as he’d insisted it was his suite...
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