At this point, it was too late to make any changes. Grades were calculated.
She never saw any such email. She was certain of it. But when she went through her inbox, sorting her archives, deleted messages, and spam, she found it.
Her heart sank, much like her grade. He’d given her a second chance and she’d somehow missed it. There would be no coming back from this. She was screwed.
“Skylar, why are you crying?” The angelic voice penetrated her meltdown.
She shut her laptop and tried to smile, but it was no use. “Because life is hard.”
Addison gave her a hug. Skylar held her little body close, breathing in her sweet, youthful scent and pressing her lips to her silken hair.
Thank God the gala was tonight, because she didn’t feel like seeing anyone. “What do you say we order a pizza, make some popcorn, put on our PJs, and make a fort in my bedroom so we can watch Christmas movies all night?”
“Yeah!”
It was still early, so they were able to sneak into the kitchen just before things got really hectic. Strangers wandered through the house, and she hated feeling on display.
She and Addison filled a laundry basket with drinks, snacks, crayons, and everything they could possibly need to make it through the night, including a small television from one of the other guestrooms.
When the pizza came, they carried it up to Skylar’s bedroom and taped a sign on the door.
GIRLS ONLY! SLEEPOVER IN PROGRESS. NO BOYS ALLOWED!
17
“Erin, where are Skylar and Addison?”
His assistant looked up from her clipboard and hesitated a moment before answering. “They’re on the third floor and asked not to be disturbed.”
He frowned. It was almost Addy’s bedtime. “Skylar’s not attending the gala?”
“Sorry. She asked if she could pass. She said she hates these things.”
“It’s art…” he muttered but supposed that might not hold any appeal for some.
Who was he kidding? It was a fundraiser. She was a young woman. Of course, she wouldn’t think campaign parties were fun. Even he got bored with them.
Caterers bustled through the kitchen, and he took that as his cue to head upstairs to shower and dress. Erin seemed to have everything covered.
He spotted a sign taped to Skylar’s door and grinned when he read it. Their party would probably be more fun than hanging out with a bunch of stuffy art connoisseurs.
Once dressed, he sent her a text telling her he’d see her after the party. She didn’t reply, which was strange because she usually got right back to him.
When he returned to the first floor, he took in the total transformation of the house from the lighting to the formal holiday decorations to the makeover of their family tree. He frowned, looking for traces of Addison’s winter artwork and toys. Where were the telltale signs of Skylar nearby?
Artificial walls had been erected with gallery lighting to showcase the thousands of dollars’ worth of artwork on display. Dealers and artists inspected and debated the placement of each masterpiece before the guests arrived.
Erin was once again in the kitchen, but she’d changed into a formfitting gray dress. Rhett helped himself to a glass of water, feeling slightly claustrophobic around so many changes to his home.
“How’s it going?” he asked, surveying all the scribbled notes on Erin’s clipboard.
She smiled up at him. “We’re right on schedule. The guests should start arriving in a few minutes, and the harpist is about to begin. You should eat something now, before you’re monopolized for the rest of the night.”
He glanced at the chaffing dishes lined along the counter. Sirloin, prime rib, and hickory smoked ham steamed from carving stations about to be wheeled out, but all he wanted was one of Skylar’s PB and J sandwiches.
He wished she would have reconsidered attending the party. While it might be a silly fundraiser, the art was interesting and a portion of the proceeds went to the art program at the community college where she’d earned her associate’s. He hoped she might attend simply because she was an alumna.
Even in her absence, she remained on his mind. Every time he took in a beautiful work of art, he questioned if it would be something she’d like.
She once made a comment that the house needed more personal touches. Perhaps he would buy something from the auction, but he wanted to pick something she’d like.
When the guests arrived, he was cornered, just as Erin predicted. He’d learned long ago to simply go with the flow at these events. He smiled and nodded and laughed at all the right places, but the charade struck him as especially artificial and hollow tonight.
He’d been so full of laughter recently, he often found himself staring into space and smiling, simply remembering something funny Addison had done or something sweet Skylar had said. Nothing anyone said to him tonight seemed to reach or register in his heart. He missed his girls.