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Chapter 37

“Travis!” Angela’s voice startled me and I jerked, my gaze snapping up to find her. She was leaning in the doorway from the dining room. She looked elegant with her hair swept back from her face, and even the dark green apron over her black dress didn’t mar the effect. “There’s food and drinks on the buffet. You need to eat.”

For a split second, I thought about arguing. But I knew better. So I nodded and shoved myself off the couch.

* * * *

Christmas Eve in the Mastriano household was loosely structured. Everyone sat around, laughing and talking while nibbling on food and drinks. There wasn’t a sit-down meal, exactly, though Angela did put out more hearty dishes of lasagna, turkey, ham, and baked ziti at about six thirty.