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Chapter One
December 22, 1978
The moment the office clocks chimed five o’clock, the junior associates at Morgan and Reid LLP flicked off their desk lamps, packed their work bags, pulled on their winter parkas, and assembled in the law firm’s front lobby, Christmas bonuses tucked away safely in their pockets. It was the earliest the group were leaving work since being hired at the firm. All the bosses had already made early exits to get a head start on their holiday plans, so the first years didn’t have to worry about making an impression by sticking around any later than the official end of the workday, as they usually did.
The group of five recent law school grads would all soon disperse for a well-earned week-long break from their firm in downtown Calgary. Jasper and Nadège both had families in the city, so didn’t have far to travel. Neal was hopping on a bus to Vancouver in the morning, while Anton was flying across the country to Fredericton where his family lived. Jeannie Carmichael was getting up at the crack of dawn to drive to Butterfly Lake in the Rocky Mountains for her favourite few days of the entire year.
But in the meantime, the first stop for the group was the Trumpet and Tartan pub, just around the corner from the Morgan and Reid offices, and the can’t-miss Friday tradition for the group of young professionals. They’d never been able to make it in time to take advantage of the happy hour specials until today.
Jeannie ducked into the women’s washroom on her way to join the group to apply the lipstick she’d bought at lunch that day. She’d heard from her boss’s secretary—her best work friend, Margot Clemson—that Ben Kane, junior partner at the firm and Jeannie’s longtime work crush, was planning to join them at the pub. Jeannie had popped out on her break to grab the lipstick from Woodward’s department store at the corner, a nice pinky-red colour called Cupid’s Cranberry.
She smoothed on a light coat of lipstick, finger-combed her hair, and noted how tired she looked in the mirror. It wasn’t just the fluorescent lights. The days had been long and tiring ever since she’d started her job just over seven months ago. Expectations were high for the associates, and there was an unspoken understanding that there wasn’t space for all of them to stay on long-term, so Jeannie’s hours felt endless and unsustainable. She also knew she needed to put in that much extra to get noticed over her male counterparts, who had more in common with the bosses and conversed with greater ease in between meetings and at the coffee station.
But it was worth it. It wasn’t necessarily the most thrilling work; in fact, sometimes it was downright dull, but she liked the impressed expressions on people’s faces when she told them she was a lawyer, and the compensation was pretty nice too, as far as entry-level jobs went. If she were lucky enough to stay on at the firm, it wouldn’t take long for the amount on her paycheque to grow, which she found thrilling. She admired the lifestyles the partners lived—the beautiful homes, nice vacations, and overall comfortable existence they could give their families.
Plus, she loved her colleagues, so these Friday socials had gotten her through the long and busy weeks preparing briefs, filing memos, conducting research, and doing her best to be seen and not heard during meetings where the partners were present.
She was the last to join the group in the lobby. Her heartbeat kickstarted in her chest when she saw Ben Kane leaning against the doorframe, talking football with Jasper, his light-brown waves peeking out from under his herringbone wool newsboy cap. He glanced up when she approached, his light-green eyes flitting over her outfit, then flashed her a quick and charming grin.
She returned the smile and took a deep breath before joining Margot and Nadège, who were flipping through the magazines on the reception coffee table.
Margot looked up as Jeannie approached. “All set?” She tossed the magazine on the table and pulled a red wool toque over her unruly brown curls, then stood up and leaned in to whisper in Jeannie’s ear. “You look great! Tonight’s your night. I overheard Alistair asking Ben if he was dating anyone and he said ‘nothing serious.’”
“Shh,” said Jeannie, looking sideways to make sure Ben hadn’t heard them.
An innocent flirtation had developed between Jeannie and Ben over the past few weeks, and Jeannie was almost certain Ben was joining the first years so that he’d have a chance to ask her out. It would be the best kick-off to the Christmas holidays. They’d probably wait to have a date until the New Year. Or was the New Year’s Eve gala at the storied Grey Spruce Golf and Country Club, where she knew Ben’s parents were members, too much to hope for? The party was the city’s most exclusive event and always made the society section of the paper.
Jeannie planned to be back from the mountains and at her apartment the day after Christmas—her roommate, Laura, was also going out of town, so someone had to take care of their grey tabby cat, Jazzy—so Jeannie would be in the city, available for a magical night out with Ben, with enough time to spare to shop for a gown for the event. She glanced over at him again to find him laughing at something Jasper had just said.
He was perfect for Jeannie. Tall, handsome, athletic, well-educated, and well dressed, she knew from Margot that his family was connected to big oil north of Edmonton. He’d gone to school in the United States at Dartmouth and was an accomplished ski racer.
Jeannie could just picture it. They’d live in the city for work, maybe in a riverfront home in the South East which would be convenient for getting to and from work but far enough away from the downtown to have some breathing room. They’d buy a ski chalet in the mountains, where they’d spend their winter weekends. Or maybe a place on the California coast, or in Arizona to escape the cold. Their children would go to a good public school and do horseback riding and art lessons on the weekends, and Jeannie and Ben would grow old together while earning the envy of all her friends for their fairy-tale life along the way.
Now he just had to ask her out.
Outside in the blustery winter evening, the small group hurried down the street toward the pub, which looked cosy and inviting from the outside and was already filled with guests.
Ben held the door for Jeannie, Margot, and Nadège, and Jeannie detected a glint in Ben’s eye as she moved past him from the frosty outside air to the warmth of the pub, where a live band was in full swing. Their group was lucky to find the last unoccupied table.
The pub, which was really nothing special as far as pubs went, was decorated for the holidays: white poinsettia plants with a dusting of gold sparkles lined the bar, fresh boughs of evergreen draped the walls, and coloured lights were strung around the room, giving the whole space a cheerful and festive feeling.
Jeannie would have one drink, maybe two, then head back to the apartment she shared with Laura and pack to leave in the morning to join her family. Even if Ben hadn’t been joining them tonight, she still would have waited until the morning to drive out. The mountain roads could be treacherous at night during any time of year, but especially in winter when snow squalls were always a threat.
The group chatted easily over their drinks, discussing their plans for the break and gossiping about some of the firm’s employees. When the band played a song they all knew, they joined in with the rest of the crowd. The set was all well-known covers and set up karaoke style, where guests could sign up on a list at the front to join the band on stage to perform. More than once, Jeannie tried to make eye contact with Ben, and when she was successful, the playful grin dancing on his lips told her he was on the same wavelength as she was. She just had to get him alone.
So, when he stood up to go to the bar, Jeannie saw her chance. “One more round on me,” Ben said to the group, “and then I’ve got to hit the road. I want to be on the slopes at Fernie by lunch tomorrow.”
Fernie at Christmas. Very nice. Did his family have a place there, or were they staying at some kind of fancy resort where they’d retire after a day on the slopes in front of a grand stone fireplace to sip on White Russians? It sounded dreamy.
Jeannie straightened her shoulders, her window of opportunity narrowing. She had to talk to him before he left.
“Gin fizz for me,” Jeannie said. “I’ll help you carry the drinks.”
She trailed Ben to the bar, where a pretty bartender with strawberry-blonde hair and big green eyes took their order.
“So, what are you getting up to for Christmas?” Ben asked Jeannie, looking over at her for a second, but mostly observing the bartender as she prepared their drinks.
“I’m heading to the mountains,” Jeannie said. “My grandparents own a lodge in Keystone Ridge, so that’s where I’ve spent Christmas every year of my life. The Butterfly Lake Lodge.”
“Butterfly Lake Lodge, eh?” said Ben, his eyes still glued to the bartender. “Sounds cute.”
“Here’s the lager,” the bartender interrupted, ignoring Jeannie and practically bending over double to pass Ben the drink, her low-cut top showing off a generous amount of cleavage. Jeannie glanced down at her own crisp white button-up, which was on the dowdier side of what she usually would wear out, but as a young woman at a law firm she had to maintain the utmost professionalism, and that started with her attire.
“Thanks,” Ben said, grinning at the bartender and then examining the pint. “A perfect pour.” The woman smiled back at him and started to measure gin in a shot glass.
“How about you? You said you’re going to Fernie?” Jeannie asked.
“Uh, yeah,” he said distractedly. The bartender slid the other drinks and bill across the bar to Ben, a coy expression on her face.
“Here, why don’t you carry these,” he said to Jeannie, not breaking eye contact with the bartender. “I’ll meet you back there.”
Cheeks burning with embarrassment, Jeannie carried three of the drinks back to the table and slid into her spot without saying a word. She tried to focus on the story Neal was telling the group, but her attention kept drifting to the bar. She saw Ben scribble something on the receipt and the bartender pick it up and tuck it into the tight pocket of her top, both of them grinning like fools at each other.
Unbelievable. She’d been passed over for a bartender.
Ben returned to the table, a satisfied expression on his face. Clearly he’d come out with the intent of getting someone’s number, except it wasn’t Jeannie’s. Why had she even thought for a second Ben would be interested in dating her? Was it true that guys like him were threatened by successful women? Had she completely misread their interactions at the office? Or was he just plain not into her?
“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Ben said, clinking his glass against Neal’s and Jasper’s.
“Thanks for the drinks,” Neal said, holding up his pint. “Cheers, everyone!”
Jeannie tilted her glass back and tried to drink down the lump in her throat, finishing half of her drink in three long sips.
She felt Margot’s hand on her elbow. “Come on,” Margot whispered, tugging at her. “Let’s get out on the dance floor. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Forget about him.” The small, tiled area in front of the stage had filled up since they’d arrived, and the band had just launched into “The Chain” by Fleetwood Mac.
“You go ahead,” Jeannie said, slumping back in her seat. She tipped her glass back again, emptying it, and looked at her watch. If she went home now, Laura would still be awake with her boyfriend, Stephen, and Jeannie would be forced to talk to them and watch them be all cutesy all over each other. No thank you. She’d have one more drink at the pub, take her time walking home, and hopefully by the time she got in they’d have gone to bed for the night.
With her purse slung over her shoulder, she went to the bar, but this time the one at the back of the room so that she could avoid Ben’s future wife. The crowd on the dance floor had joined in with the band, belting out the chorus and pumping their fists in the air.
“I’ll take a gin fizz,” Jeannie said to the guy behind the bar, an older man with a scraggly beard and a leather vest who looked like he’d wandered in after a shift at one of the ranches outside town. Why couldn’t Ben have ordered drinks at this bar?
She paid her bill as the band announced they were taking a break before the next set, then slid onto a stool and searched the crowd for Margot but couldn’t see her. She turned back to her drink.
“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a Foreigner fan,” Jeannie heard from over her shoulder and turned to find the band’s guitar player standing there with tousled chestnut hair and smiling eyes. He was holding a paper cup and had shed the jean jacket he’d been wearing over his white t-shirt. He was also panting a bit and had a huge smile on his lightly perspiring face. Clearly he’d been having fun up there.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeannie asked, although she wasn’t terribly interested in the answer.
“It means I saw you singing every word to “Cold as Ice” earlier.”
Jeannie put her drink down on the bar and turned to face him. “So what? It’s a good song. And what does a Foreigner fan look like?” she asked.
“Not nearly as pretty as you,” the guitar player replied without missing a beat. The cheesy comment would have normally bothered her, but she found herself more bothered by the fact that she liked how he’d said it. “Everett,” he said, extending his hand.
She rolled her eyes anyway, then shook his hand. He had a firm, hot grip, with calluses on his palm from his instrument. “Jeannie,” she said. She gave a tight smile, then turned back to her drink.
“When are you coming up on stage?”
“Ha!” she said. “That sounds like my worst nightmare. Not a performer.”
The sides of his mouth turned up in a way that was decidedly cute. Okay, so the guitar player was hot. Or maybe she’d had one too many gin fizzes. “Any requests, then? For the next set?” he asked, sliding onto the barstool next to her. “Labatt Fifty,” he said to the bartender. “Please, and thanks.”
“I’m heading home, actually,” Jeannie said. “As soon as I finish this drink.” She took a sip and waited to be left alone.
The bartender passed Everett his beer, and he held it up to Jeannie in cheers. She paused for a moment, then reluctantly clinked her glass against his bottle. He had deep-brown eyes, and his mussed-up hair had a bit of a wave that fell just below his strong jawline. He was objectively handsome, but the whole bar-musician thing lost him way too many points.
“Shame,” Everett said. He moved his stool a little closer, then fixed her with his deep-brown gaze, something Jeannie figured he did every night with whatever woman was sitting in whatever pub he was playing. “Hey, I’ve seen you in here before. You live close by?”
“I work around the corner.” She also lived a five-minute walk away, but she wasn’t about to share that level of personal information with a total stranger.
He surveyed her outfit. “School teacher? Banker?”
“Lawyer,” Jeannie said, then shifted a bit in her seat to turn away from him a little more. Could this guy not tell she just wanted to wallow in her disappointment in peace?
“Lawyer?” he asked. “I’m impressed. And you won’t get up on stage? Isn’t part of being a lawyer getting up and performing?”
“I’m not that kind of lawyer.”
“Well, what kind of lawyer are you? I could use a little representation myself.”
Aha. Jeannie raised an eyebrow, then turned back to face Everett. “Oh, so you’re that kind of musician.”
“Now who’s making snap judgements?” he said, his eyes sparkling with delight. He was playing with her, and instantly her guards went up. She’d had enough of that type of the law firm’s clients: rich and accomplished businessmen who thought they owned the world, flirting with her like she was some kind of doe-eyed airhead instead of the second highest in her graduating class.
She straightened her shoulders, all business. “Well, what do you need a lawyer for?”
“My will,” he said. “Just turned thirty last week and figure it’s about time to make sure my assets are well allocated. If I kick the bucket.”
Jeannie had to a suppress a grin. Assets? The guy looked like the most precious item he owned was leaning up against the speaker on stage. “I don’t work in estates. I do commercial real estate. But here.” She pulled her business card holder out from her bag and passed him a card. It was Christmas, after all. She would be charitable. “You can call the firm’s main line, and the secretary will connect you with someone.” If he even had enough money to pay the bill.
He accepted the card and turned it over, examining it, then glanced up at her with those kind but slightly mischievous eyes and slid it into the back pocket of his jeans. He opened his mouth to say something, then one of his bandmates signalled to him from the stage. “Thank you,” he said. Everett stood up and walked six feet to a bulletin board beside the bar and ripped off a little tab of paper from the bottom of a flyer, then came back to the bar and handed it to her. She glanced at the poster and saw that it was advertising his band. Megapony. How cute. “And here’s my card,” he said. “You ever want to get together and talk music, you give me a call. You’ve got good taste. Can I take you on a date?”
“Thanks,” Jeannie said. But no thanks, she thought, and shoved the small rectangle of paper to the bottom of her purse. “Maybe.” He was cute; there was no denying that. But she’d heard enough stories about musicians from her old roommate from her undergrad years at UBC who now worked in publicity at a record label.
Everett made for the stage, then turned back. “Oh, and Jeannie,” he said, “the Myosotis scorpioides. It looks nice on you.”
It took her a moment to realise that he was looking at the pendant hanging around her neck, a small charm with a pressed blue flower set in resin that her parents had given her for her last birthday.
“Forget-me-nots,” he said. “They match your eyes.”
Jeannie blinked. Okay, so he had a few fancy words in his vocabulary, and he wasn’t shy about showing them off. Before she could respond, Everett had turned away again, so she watched as he made his way back to the stage, a slight nag tempting her to stay and watch the next set, but her watch read just after ten o’clock. Laura and Stephen would likely have retreated to Laura’s room, and Jeannie had to get an early start in the morning. Her grandma would be waiting for her, all of the baking ingredients and equipment lined up on the counter of the lodge’s kitchen. She couldn’t be late.
Without saying goodbye to any of her friends, she slipped out the side door of the pub as Everett and his band launched into their second set. Her spirits had boosted slightly, and as she walked through the bustling street toward her apartment, she soaked in the festive atmosphere, the bright lights, ornate store window displays, and flushed cheeks on happy faces.
Ben Kane could sit on a yule log. Christmas break had begun!
End of Excerpt