Christmas Miracle in Jamaica
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Ann McIntosh
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21
PROLOGUE
ITâS A NEW BEGINNING.
Seated at the end of the hotel bar, her shoulder against the wall, Chloe Bailey took a sip of tonic water and considered the thought carefully. Beyond the plate-glass window rain fell steadily, the gloomy San Francisco evening mirroring her mood.
Shouldnât she feel happy about the dawn of this next part of her life, especially after the horrid couple of years preceding it?
Perhaps she should, but instead of sparking joy, the rumination echoed morosely in her head, reminding her that success hadnât created this change. Failure had.
She wasnât used to failing. Actually, sheâd lived her entire life conscientiously trying to avoid doing so.
Coloring within the lines.
Always doing what was expected.
Working hard to be the best.
Only taking considered risks so as not to make big mistakes.
Living what others erroneously thought was the perfect life.
It hadnât always been easy. Often sheâd wished she didnât have the reputation for being reliable, steady, dependable. Especially when her parents used her as an example her siblings would do well to emulate, which had led to resentment when they were all younger and created an unrealistic vision of who she really was. And now...
She groaned quietly, and reached for her glass. Waves of hurt and embarrassment made her skin burn even as a shiver ran along her spine.
No one in her family had ever gotten divorced, until now.
Waking up five thousand miles away from her London home to her solicitorâs text saying the entire ordeal of getting free from Finn was over had made her equal parts sad and relieved. Finn had fought the divorce every step of the way, making what should have been a straightforward matter into a circus. Creating discord, spouting ridiculous demands and accusations, trying to force Chloe to go back to him rather than go through with severing the marriage.
The mess heâd caused even had her parents questioning her decision. And just like that, Chloe was no longer the âperfectâ daughter, sister or friend but someone others looked at with pity. Or speculation, since there were few people she entrusted with the true reason for the breakup, and Finn was almost universally liked.
It was all highly unfair, and as she drained the last of her sparkling water, Chloe couldnât help feeling resentful.
She hadnât cheated or lied. Finn had. Yet here she was, left holding the bag.
As she twisted the empty glass back and forth between her fingers, she heard her grandmotherâs voice, clear as day, as though the older lady was beside her and whispered into her ear.
âAnyone who thinks life is always going to be easy is a jackass. When things get tough, lift up your head and look for the advantage. Thereâs always one, but usually you have to seek it out.â
That was Granâs reaction anytime one of the family was dispirited or gloomy, but the familiar refrain rang hollow now.
âWhat possible advantage could there be to this mess?â she muttered.
But her brain was already whirring, putting aside the depressing, self-pitying thoughts and searching for the elusive silver lining.
Professionally, the breakup hadnât changed anything. Her position at the Royal Kensington Hospital was both secure and rewarding, and the cutting-edge research she was involved in gave her a great deal of satisfaction.
It was personally that sheâd suffered, and perhaps that was where she could benefit?
All her life sheâd been so careful, terrified of diminishing her good name, constantly aware that her parents expected her to set the best possible example for her younger siblings. Well, much of that had gone out the window over the last couple of years, leaving her...
Free.
To do things sheâd wanted to but shied away from because they were risky or could potentially make others think less of her.
Sheâd always been so careful, so conservative and conventional. Wasnât it time she let loose a little?
âCan I get you another tonic water?â
Startled, Chloe looked up at the bartender, and instinctively nodded. âYes, thank you.â
She wasnât ready to retire to her lonely hotel bed, knowing sheâd only lie sleepless while she wrestled with all the ramifications of the life-changes she was going through.
But as the other woman began to turn away, Chloe was struck by a totally different type of impulse.
âWait,â she said, causing the bartender to pause. âDo you serve mojitos?â
âSure,â the woman replied with a smile. âWouldnât be a real bar if we didnât.â
âIâve always wanted to try one,â Chloe said, ignoring the whisper in her head telling her she rarely drank and she should be more careful, here in a strange city with no one to watch out for her.
âOne mojito, coming up,â the bartender said, her smile widening.
âBrilliant,â Chloe replied, grinning in return.
When her drink came, she silently toasted her grandmother and her own quiet revolution, determined to make up for all the lost years of being so timid sheâd forgotten how to actually live.
And when she found her gaze snagged by that of a very handsome man sitting across the bar, she refused to give in to the impulse to look away. Instead, she kept her eyes locked on his and raised her glass once more to her lips to sip the delicious liquid.
Then, as the gentleman in question rose and began to make his way toward her, she let herself smile, just a little, feeling excitement quicken her blood.
Hereâs to new beginnings.
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