A WRIGHT CHRISTMAS (Wright Standalone)

2. Isaac

2

Isaac

“You wanted to see me?” I said, sticking my head into Jensen Wright’s all-glass office.

Though Jensen Wright Construction was technically a separate entity from Wright Construction, in practice, they were one and the same. Jensen running the architecture and his younger sister Morgan working as CEO of the construction side. The best and the brightest of the Wrights came together in the largest construction company in the nation.

“Isaac, yes. You got my email?” Jensen glanced up from his twenty-seven-inch computer monitor.

“Sure did.”

“Come on in. This will be quick.”

I stepped inside, securing the first available seat in front of him. Jensen was the oldest of five, and after his parents had passed, he had all but raised many of his younger siblings. The Wrights had a ten-year age gap between Jensen and his youngest sister, Sutton, with Austin, Landon, and Morgan in between. Even though I’d grown up with Landon and known Jensen my entire life, I couldn’t help but idolize him. I was thirty years old and still saw him as the too-cool older brother I never had.

“You might have heard rumors about a new facility Wright Construction is working on,” Jensen said.

I nodded. There were always rumors. “A sports team is coming here?”

“Since we have Tech, it’s normally just petty gossip. Everyone wants a Minor League Baseball team or the like to come to Lubbock, but it never pans out.”

“Right, because we’re not on a major highway. Highway 27 doesn’t connect all the way down to 20, and we’re smack between 20 and 30.”

“Yeah, well, that’s all about to change,” Jensen said confidently. “Last week, Wright Construction got the green light to build a soccer facility for a Division II professional league.”

My jaw dropped open. “Seriously? That’s…incredible. I never thought that would happen in Lubbock.”

“Honestly, neither did I,” Jensen agreed. “But since I know you have the most experience with the sport and my architecture company is running the design specifics, I want to get your input on design, and Morgan agreed to put you in charge of the project team.”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course. I’m happy to help.”

I’d been recruited all over the country for soccer right out of high school and played two years of DI soccer at Southern Methodist University in Dallas. But nothing had really panned out like my dreams had always hoped they would, and I’d quit the team before my junior year, moved back to Lubbock, and graduated from Texas Tech. I still had mixed feelings about the whole thing.

“Excellent. We’re in early stages, of course, but let’s put you on the books for all the main planning meetings with me, Morgan, David, and Jordan.”

“Will do.”

I could just imagine myself in a room with all the most important people at Wright. Morgan, CEO of Wright Construction, was a total badass at her job. David had come in from San Francisco to be our newest CFO. And Jordan was a Wright cousin. He and his father had been in charge of the Canadian division of the company, headquartered in Vancouver, but he had moved down to Lubbock with his mom and younger brother three years ago. He was a total shark, and I could see why they wanted to bring him in on this new project.

And while I’d worked my way up at Wright straight out of college and been the project lead on the new Buddy Holly Center downtown, this felt different somehow. I wasn’t just implementing what others had created. I was in the room where it happened.

I stayed in Jensen’s office for the next hour, going over everything that I would want to include in a professional soccer stadium. Of course, we already had a baseline for what we had to include, but the Wrights never did anything half-assed. So, this had to be the biggest and best.

“God, is it already four thirty?” I asked, checking my watch. “I have to get out of here. I have to pick up Aly.”

Jensen leaned back in his chair and laughed. “I do tend to get a little carried away. Emery is probably going to want me home at some sort of reasonable hour today.”

“That seems likely. When is she due?”

“Not until the spring.”

“Well, congrats, man,” I said, shaking his hand. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

He sighed heavily. “Girl.”

I tried to cover my laughter at his dismay. “You’re going to do great. Girls are easy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think anyone can say children are easy.”

“True.”

“Well, get out of here. I’m going to finish this up.”

I tipped my head at him and headed out the door. I was probably going to be late. Again. I dashed across the parking lot and into my truck. My mom usually picked Aly up from school and took her to the studio, but I was responsible for picking her up after work. I didn’t normally get caught in philosophical discussions with Jensen Wright.

Luckily, no cops caught me speeding through downtown Lubbock to pull into the Buddy Holly Center parking lot. I’d actually managed to arrive two whole minutes early. I loosened my tie and tossed it onto the seat next to me, unbuttoned the top button of my shirt, and ran a hand back through my auburn hair. Good enough.

With a sigh, I exited my truck and headed inside the Lubbock Ballet Company’s studio. Aly had been dancing here for the last three years. Everyone thought I was crazy for putting her in ballet at only two years old, but honestly, the kid had come out dancing. She cried if she didn’t go straight to the studio after school. It felt a bit like a curse to me, but she loved dancing so much, so how could I ever deny her?

The lobby was full of parents that I recognized from Aly’s classes. I tipped my head at a few of them. I knew basically everyone in the city. In my line of work, it was hard not to know everyone. But it was Angelica and Bart Lawson, Lubbock’s resident high-profile lawyer team, who approached me. Kill me now.

“Angelica,” I said with a head nod. I took Bart’s hand. “Bart.”

“Isaac, just lovely to see you,” Angelica said.

“You too.”

“How’s Aly?”

“You know Aly. Always happy to be in dance tights.” I laughed with the couple. “How’s everything going with Katelyn?”

Angelica pursed her lips. “Well, they gave the Clara role to Bebe.”

She made it sound like it was an affront. I knew enough about ballet to know that Bebe was the best dancer we’d seen in over a decade. My heart panged at that thought. Being here always reminded me of Peyton. I tried to hide it all away, but there was a reason I knew how the ballet world worked.

“They should have given it to our Katelyn,” Bart said.

“She’s worked so much harder for this,” Angelica agreed. “Don’t you think so?”

There was no winning here. I couldn’t say that Bebe was the better dancer. Katelyn did work hard, but she had the added advantage of parents who cared way too much.

“What part is Katelyn playing?” I asked instead.

Angelica waved her hand. “She’s a soloist in the snow scene, and she’s one of the flowers. But it’s not the same as being Clara, especially the way that Kathy choreographs the role.”

“Of course. Those are both great parts.” I glanced over their shoulders. The baby class hadn’t let out yet. “Excuse me. I’m going to go check on Aly.”

I brushed past the couple and headed toward the studio space. Just as I was nearly to Aly’s class, Kathy stepped out of the costume room with another woman.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my stomach dropping to the floor. It couldn’t be. This made no sense. I was having a hallucination. That was the only possible explanation for this. Because what would Peyton Medina, a principal dancer in New York City, be doing in Lubbock?

But there was no denying it.

No one else had her grace or poise. The slicked-back bun that had wisps of brown curls constantly escaping, no matter how much hairspray or gel she applied. The lithe frame with her tan complexion. The dimple that appeared just on her right cheek when she really smiled, as she was now. The widening of her big brown eyes as she saw me for the first time, too.

“Isaac?” she gasped.

Her eyes swept up and down my form, just as I had done to her. Something ignited inside me. She’d left so long ago, and still, that connection between us sparked. I took a half-step forward for a moment, remembering all the times I’d held her perfect body and kissed her perfect lips.

Before I ripped myself away from who we’d been at seventeen and back to the present, an ache settled in its place. An old, familiar feeling of missing her. One that had never truly gone away.

“Hey, Peyton.”