Picture Perfect Christmas
New York City
Pale sunlight streamed through the huge windows of the gallery. Chastain Thibodaux looked at the winter sky and frowned. "I don't know why the sun bothers to shine when it's this cold," she said grumpily. Her assistant, Mona Morgan, was checking the order of the paintings that were waiting to be hung. She looked up from her clipboard and laughed.
"You act like it's never cold in France. We had lots of cold weather there as you well know. Snow and all."
Chastain sat down on a stool that was near the entrance. "Yes, but it was French snow. Very chic, chérie. Lulu looked fabulous in her little red coat, didn't you?" she said, directing her remark to her West Highland white terrier that was busily sniffing every corner of the gallery.
"And she'll look just as cute right here in Harlem," Mona replied. "You're not sorry that you left Paris, are you?"
Chastain looked away pensively before she answered. "No. Three years was enough. I loved living in Europe, but I was ready to come home. I missed my family and I missed the States. I had an absentee ballot. But imagine what it w ... read full excerpt from: Picture Perfect Christmas ebook
