Twelve Nights

  Cover Copy

  True love waits forever…

  For Erik Lindholm, it’s been a long climb to the top of his company. Now, as president he has the power to bring his vision to life and speed his company in bold new directions. If that means a complete staff overhaul, so be it. If that means firing the woman who left his heart in tatters fifteen years earlier, it’s a business decision, not personal…

  Beryl Foster is highly competent and respected by everyone at the office. But rumors of a big shake-up are rampant and—surprisingly, scarily—Beryl’s job as CFO is on the line. Fifteen years ago she made a decision to put her career before everything else. It was also the last time she and Erik shared a life together. Every Christmas is a reminder. This one could be a second chance…

  “Struth has a gift for layering stories within stories while keeping them all connected.”

  —Library Journal

  “Struth is an author to watch!”

  —Laura Drake, author of RITA-award winner The Sweet Spot

  “Sharon Struth writes a good story about love and loss. She knows her characters and has a path she wants them to take.”

  —Eye on Romance

  Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com

  Books by Sharon Struth

  Blue Moon Lake Series

  Share the Moon

  Harvest Moon

  Twelve Nights

  Bella Luna

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  Twelve Nights

  A Blue Moon Lake Romance

  Sharon Struth

  LYRICAL PRESS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  Copyright

  Lyrical Press books are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2015 by Sharon Struth

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund- raising, and educational or institutional use.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Special Sales Manager:

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Attn. Special Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

  First Electronic Edition: November 2015

  eISBN-13: 978-1-60183-637-3

  eISBN-10: 1-60183-637-6

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To my sweet husband, who makes every Christmas a special one.

  Acknowledgements

  On this solo journey of writing, there are still so many people who stand behind to make each boo possible. First, I’d like to thank Dawn Dowdle of the Blue Ridge Literary Agency for her support and friendship. Thank you to Paige Christian, my wonderful editor at Kensington.

  To my husband, Bill, thanks for being a test reader on this book and clarifying Manhattan’s Eastside from the Westside.

  Thanks to my daughter Katie, who listened to me hash out details for this story. To my daughter Nicole, my mother, and my friends, thank you for always giving me support and being excited about each new book I write.

  Last, but not least, where would a writer be without honest feedback from her colleagues? I thank Terri-Lynne Defino and Dixie Lee Brown for input to Twelve Nights.

  Chapter 1

  On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me—

  A necklace with a heart key.

  “If you value your reputation, you’ll get moving.”

  Darcy’s clear, calm voice jarred Beryl. Before she could respond, Darcy looped her arm through Beryl’s and pulled her from the doorway into the crowded room.

  “Didn’t you see that mistletoe overhead?” Darcy raised her classically thick eyebrows, darker versions of the ones that had made Brooke Shields famous years ago. “Chase was on his way over, and he had his sights set on you.”

  Together, they neared Chase Stockard, VP of communications for Global Business Solutions. His charisma had landed him the prime role dealing with the firm’s media issues, plus the attention of most women in the office.

  His Ken-doll smile turned into a frown. “Aw, ladies.” He arched an eyebrow. “Catch you next time around?”

  “Or save the mistletoe moves for outside the office,” Darcy said, her tone stern, her brows lifted. “All due respect.”

  Chase laughed it off and headed for a gaggle of females not far away.

  “He really ticks me off.” Darcy tossed back her hair, dark as onyx and always worn to the shoulder with a little flip. “I’m beginning to wonder if anybody listened to me at last summer’s sexual-harassment workshop.”

  Darcy took her job as director of human resources seriously. She once claimed to view corporate policy with the reverence of the Ten Commandments. Beryl was especially glad her best friend had stopped Chase. A mistletoe kiss might not be a big deal for some women, but in Beryl’s position with the firm, others would talk.

  The pair blended into a sea of formalwear, mostly black mixed with every imaginable shade of red. Beryl gazed at the Temple of Dendur, just ahead as they moved through her favorite room at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Amber-colored spotlights illuminated the sandstone structure. Around it were tables covered with crisp linens and bowl-candle centerpieces, gleaming balls of gold light befitting the royal display. As a backdrop to the temple, a floor-to-ceiling projection screen played a continuous hypnotic loop of cascading snowflakes falling against a dark sky.

  Darcy leaned close to Beryl’s ear. “Did you hear the rumor he’s dating a new copywriter?”

  “He who?”

  “Chase. She’s a subordinate, works in his own department. That’s pretty much the mother of all interoffice dating rule violations.”

  “Thank goodness men like that are a rare breed.” Beryl didn’t want to discuss gossip. She had her own worries tonight. “Ready for another drink?”

  “Lead the way.” Darcy grabbed a bite-sized quiche from a server passing by them with a tray, and popped it into her mouth.

  Beryl moved slower than usual in the satin dress with a black-lace overlay, a nice change from her usual corporate attire. Leaving her arms bare, the gown showed a flash of skin beneath the satin, near the scooped neckline. A fitted silhouette followed the curve of her hip and gently flared from the knee down. Though most of her immediate peers were men, she refused to dress like one.

  “Any idea why they’ve thrown the Christmas party so early this year?” Darcy dodged a waiter holding a tray of fluted champagne glasses. “Thanksgiving was only last weekend.”

  “Saul’s choice. I’m pretty sure it’s so he can announce his replacement tonight.”

  “And you really don’t know who it is?”

  “One, if I did, I wouldn’t tell you standing in this crowd of our coworkers. Two, this is the best-kept secret since what was hidden inside Al Capone’s vault.”

  Darcy laughed. “Probably will end up being as anticlimac
tic as the vault unveiling, too. Word around the office is that Rob Peterson is a shoo-in.”

  Beryl shrugged. As chief financial officer, she ranked high enough on the scale to be considered as Saul’s replacement, too. Most expected someone with a sales or marketing background and many would argue that at the age of thirty-nine, she wasn’t experienced enough to oversee the company.

  Beryl glanced both ways and dropped her voice. “I hope he chooses someone from inside Global. An outsider will surely bring in some of his or her own upper-level staff. I may get tossed out on the street with a pink slip.”

  A sick pit settled in her gut. She’d been with this company her whole career and had given up everything else to achieve success. Losing the job by being fired would be more than humiliating. It would leave her empty-handed in life.

  Darcy hoisted up the neckline of her strapless dress, her willowy frame without the meat to hold up the attire. “You shouldn’t worry. Anybody would be out of their mind to get rid of you.”

  “The entire executive board is worried. Saul promoted us to these jobs and was our boss. If his replacement comes from outside the company, nobody is safe.” Beryl tipped her head to the bar. “Come on. Let’s get those drinks.”

  As they walked, she kept an eye open for the firm president, Saul Weinstein. Mentor. Friend. Ten years ago, he’d transferred her from the Boston office to be part of his management team. They were so much alike when it came to their work ethics and beliefs, they could nearly read each other’s minds with a glance across the boardroom table. The faith he put in her abilities from the start had given her the incentive to work long, hard hours.

  They ordered two glasses of Moscato and joined Darcy’s husband, Will, who stood talking to a few people from Darcy’s department. Saul appeared at the entrance, his full head of white hair like a beacon in any crowded room. He turned halfway, his mouth moving as he spoke with someone still outside the doorway. Beryl’s heartbeat quickened, this anticipation more nerve-racking than she realized.

  She elbowed Darcy. “Saul’s here.”

  Their group went silent, all eyes on the firm president. He turned around and came into the room, someone directly behind him. At the same time, a small group came through the other set of double doors, swallowing both Saul and the person she suspected was her new boss into the crowd.

  “Did you see who he’s with?” Beryl whispered to Darcy, who stood several inches taller.

  She shook her head.

  Saul appeared at a podium set up at the temple’s front facade. The hum of voices subsided and people started to clap. Beryl put down her drink to join the applause.

  Saul cleared his throat into the microphone. “Welcome to this year’s Christmas gala. I hope the food and wine makes up for such humble surroundings.” Chuckles rumbled through the crowd. “Rather than torture you all with further guessing, I do plan to announce my successor tonight.” He scanned the room, a subdued expression appearing on his age-lined face. “I almost can’t believe the company I started forty years ago has grown to such heights. So many memories. The day we went public. The day we hit four thousand employees, operating in twenty countries across the globe.” He raised a brow and motioned with his hand to his wife, whom Beryl knew quite well. “And yet, my wife informs me that it’s time I moved on. In three days, she’s putting me on a plane to take that grand European trip I never had time for.”

  The crowd laughed. Beryl perched on the tips of her sling-back pumps and tried to catch an early glimpse of whoever had followed Saul inside. Nothing stood out but familiar faces. She returned to her normal stance as a knot twisted tight in her stomach.

  “In selecting my replacement, I asked myself one question. Who could take the top-notch crew I have here now and guide Global to great heights in the future? Although we possess huge talent within our fine organization, I wanted a fresh take on the business and decided to search outside of our four walls.”

  Disappointment rushed through Beryl. Time to update her résumé, just in case.

  “So, without further ado, I’d like you to welcome the new president of Global Business Solutions—believe it or not a former employee of our firm—Erik Lindholm.”

  Beryl’s body numbed. Loud applause faded in the background as his name pounded inside her skull. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

  Erik stepped up to the platform and shook Saul’s hand. Beryl blinked, thinking this might be a bad dream, a hallucination, or one too many trips to the bar.

  Darcy touched Beryl’s arm, ruling out the first two. “A former employee?”

  Beryl was too stunned to speak or even nod. Erik’s dirty-blond hair was still parted on the side and worn short, with thick wisps sweeping his high forehead. He smiled, making the dimpled cleft in his chin deepen and softening the rugged angles of his sculpted face. Old emotions bubbled to the surface. Love. Happiness. Anger.

  Erik shook hands with employees seated near the podium, his smile still as confident as it had been years ago. Last she’d heard, Erik worked in Chicago and teetered at the top of the corporate ladder with the Holder Group, a competitor of Global’s who could never quite beat her firm’s status as number one in the industry. The same firm Erik had gone to after they split up nearly fourteen years ago.

  “Did you ever hear of this guy before?” Darcy whispered in Beryl’s ear.

  Beryl nodded, her gaze stuck on the man she’d almost married.

  * * * *

  “Good to see you, Samir. You look great. Haven’t changed a bit since college.” Erik embraced the hand of Global’s senior VP and general counsel. Only once since college had they spoken. Erik had needed advice on a company visit to Pakistan, the country where Samir’s parents were born.

  Samir’s black eyebrows lifted and quickly dropped with a grin. “Ah, my friend. I see you’re still well versed in the fine art of flattery. If I recall, it served you well around campus.”

  “Let’s not go there in front of Saul.” Erik tipped his head to the outgoing firm president. “He hired me based on my résumé, but I’m not sure my college antics would’ve impressed him.”

  Saul laughed. “I may be an old man, but I was once young at heart.”

  Samir introduced his wife and a conversation ensued about Saul’s retirement plans. Erik listened, but the chatter belied the enormity of his big night. He’d reached the pinnacle of his career.

  Fifteen years ago, Erik had let Global management know his frustrations that they weren’t moving him up the corporate ranks quickly enough. They had done nothing. After an interview with the Holder Group, he’d received an offer from their London office. The competitor of Global had loved his ambition and offered Erik a step up in his career. He’d grabbed the opportunity.

  He studied the Egyptian monument. The temple, commissioned by Emperor Augustus around fifteen BC, was a perfect symbolic location to make this announcement, especially given Erik’s desire to return to Manhattan and rule the empire created by Saul. Running Global had always been his hope.

  Saul rested a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “I’d like you to meet Beryl Foster. She’s one of the best CFO’s out there.”

  Beryl. Erik’s gut knotted. “Great. Is she around?”

  “She couldn’t have gone far. We’ll be sitting for dinner soon, and I believe she’s at our table.”

  Quick. Shrewd. Understated beauty. He’d never seen anybody recite a tax law with such ease, juggle figures in her head with rapid-fire results, or confidently list the pros and cons for any argument without batting an eye. The way she’d done the day he’d been offered a job with the Holder Group. The day their wedding date hung on the brink.

  Erik looked at Saul. “Can you excuse me a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  Erik wove his way to the men’s room, wading through the employees watching his every move. Good. Let them watch. Saul’s were big shoes to fill. Their faces registered curiosity, doubt, maybe a little excitement.
At the moment, there was only one face Erik was actually interested in seeing, and by the time he reached the men’s room door, he hadn’t.

  They’d be sitting together at dinner, according to Saul. He had hoped for an air-clearing moment before then. Erik’s chest tightened, the way it had after getting Saul’s offer. Beryl had been the first thing he thought about when he got the call, but he’d accepted, afraid he might say no if he saw she was still there. Seeing her face on the firm website afterward had caught him off guard. Poised and beautiful, she’d stared back at him like a challenge, reminded him of their last, ill-fated conversation.

  As he came out of the men’s room, the ladies’ room door beside it whooshed open.

  “Have a great trip. I want details when you get back.”

  Pleasant, certain, her voice was just as he remembered. His heart pumped faster.

  “Hello, Beryl.”

  She looked up. Their gazes collided, the sparkling green of her eyes as instantly familiar as the sound of her voice.

  “Oh. Erik.” Her creamy cheeks blushed pink. Dark chestnut waves caressed her slender neck. She still possessed a pureness that one might easily mistake for naiveté, yet he knew she could hold her own against anyone.

  She pushed the bangs from her forehead as she approached, extending her hand like the professional businesswoman she had become. “Congratulations are in order.”

  “Thank you.” He shook her hand. Cool as her approach, impersonal, but fitting after everything they’d once shared. “I was surprised to see you’re still with the firm, but happy you’ve gotten everything you set out to achieve.”