Page 70 of The Lie That Stole Christmas

“Yes,” he said, holding his temper.“She deserved to know.”

“Just because your father is dead doesn’t mean I can’t get you canned.”

A laugh slipped.This guy was unfuckinbelievable.“Go ahead and try,” he said.“You and I both know your grandfather likes me more.”

Gabe’s eyes widened, but he didn’t attempt a retort.

Carter turned away and was about to go find Ashley when the stairs to the kitchen caught his eye.He had to tell the staff before they overheard.He owed them that much.

Anger coursed through him as he stormed into the kitchen.The scent of cinnamon and spice permeated the air, reminding him of so many Christmases past.

Clint, Wendell, and Luca all sat around the table with cards in hand, a stack of chips in the middle of the table.Hawthorne sat at the other end with a bowl of soup.

“Carter!”Tiny exclaimed as he walked in.“I have a cake in the oven.I spoke with my cousin and her boss, and I think I might finally have it.”

“That’s great,” Carter said, forcing all his anger down.

“My fingers are crossed,” Ms.Porter said as she folded a stack of linens.

“We’ll find out in”—Tiny peered over at the stove—“five minutes.”She crossed her fingers on both hands and held them up.“All my taste testers are here.”

Everyone who had been here when Grandma Lily made that cake for not only her family, but for all the people below stairs were accounted for.

Carter knew they were all secretly hoping for Tiny to crack the code, to bring them back a taste that had been a part of their Christmas for so long.

Somehow, over the years, the people downstairs had become experts at holding onto memories and traditions.Maybe because most of them had lost someone.Maybe because Winterridge had a way of collecting broken souls and giving them a place to belong.

And after Bill’s confession, he wanted them and Ashley to have this more than ever.

Tiny pulled the cake from the oven and placed it on the countertop.Clint, Wendell, and Hawthorne moved closer.Ms.Porter put aside her folding and waited with a hand on her chest.

Tiny stared at the cake.

“Well?”Hawthorne asked, surprising Carter.

“It has to cool.”

A collective groan filled the kitchen.

“Just be patient.”Her eyes landed on Carter, and her eyebrow arched.“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s a lie.”

“She’s right.You got that look,” Clint said.

“The one where he wants to punch someone?”Wendell asked.

“Exactly,” Tiny said.

Carter sighed.“You’re making shit up.”

“No, it’s the exact same face you made when you punched that kid for calling Ashley a spoiled princess,” Ms.Porter said.

“I was fourteen.”

“And?”