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Your Christmas Love (The Bennett Family 10)

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“My mom used to say the same thing.” Sienna laughed. Relief washed over me at the sound.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll see you both tomorrow at the gallery. Eight o’clock.”

Hell, no. I loved my mother, but I put my foot down at art showings. I’d never been a fan, and I wasn’t going to subject Sienna to it. We could always catch up later for dinner.

“I can’t wait. I love contemporary art,” Sienna said.

I glanced at her sideways, about to tell her she didn’t have to put up with that out of politeness, but the expression on her face caught me off guard. She was smiling dreamily. Well, that was a game changer.

Next evening, Sienna was positively glowing. The gallery was being held in two of the conference rooms at the Westin St. Francis. When we entered the lobby, the first thing Sienna did was snap a selfie of us with the huge sugar castle in the center.

“You know, we could do this in the store after the rebrand,” she said. “Some sort of holiday treat that serves as centerpiece along with the tree. The Westin has the sugar castle, the Fairmont the gingerbread house, but there aren’t many in department stores.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something brilliant in time for the next holiday season.”

It was a heavy-handed hint that I wanted her to still work with me by then, but I couldn’t help myself. Sienna blushed, giving me a shy smile.

While we descended the steps to the conference rooms, we could already see the crowd gathered for the event.

“Summer, the youngest Bennett, owns a gallery. She features up-and-coming artists often. I love it.”

Mom and Dad were waiting by the entrance of the first room.

“Hi, Mom! Dad, this is Sienna.”

“You look lovely,” Mom said, kissing her cheek. Dad shook her hand.

“Can’t believe my wife was right again,” he exclaimed.

“About what?” I asked.

“She kept saying she thought you have a thing for Sienna. I was clueless as usual and told her she was imagining things.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too much, Mr. Statham,” Sienna said. “Sometimes I think we women have a sixth sense.”

Mom beamed at Sienna.

“Do you want to read the background stories of the artists featured tonight?”

“Sure,” Sienna answered.

The two of them sat down, going through the leaflet. Dad and I went for drinks.

“Son, you look as if you don’t want to be here.”

“You know this isn’t my scene.”

Dad clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Let me give you a piece of advice after so many years of marriage. If something makes the woman next to you happy, do it. Even if it’s not your favorite thing.”

“I’ll—wait a second. You’ve never told Mom you don’t like coming to these things?”

“Why should I? She’d just feel guilty about dragging me here.” Winking, he added, “Bringing joy to the person next to you is the secret to a happy marriage.”

I was stunned. Dad had never sho

wn enthusiasm, but I’d always thought it was just because he was a reserved man.

He just did it for Mom. I completely got it. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have. But now I did.



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