The baby stayed firmly latched to Cole.
Cole couldn’t help feeling sympathetic. “As much as I hate to think about it, I must look like Samuel. Or maybe I sound like him, or smell like him.”
“Zachary loves me, too, you know.”
“Of course he does.”
“He’s known me since birth.”
“It’s a case of mistaken identity,” said Cole. “Somewhere in his subconscious, he sees me as family.”
“You are family.”
Cole was growing more and more conscious of the interest in their conversation. Nobody had dared come within hearing distance, but there was a lot of pointing and whispering going on amongst the staff.
“Let’s go decorate some gingerbread.”
“Why can’t you just leave?”
“If I give him back, he’s going to make a scene.”
“Was that your plan? I mean today’s plan—use Zachary against me?”
“There was no plan.”
“Do I strike you as stupid?”
“Amber, please. Gingerbread. Let’s just do the gingerbread.”
There must have been a note of desperation in his tone that got her attention because she glanced around, seeming to become aware of the onlookers.
“Right,” she agreed. “Let’s go.”
They moved casually to the rear corner of the hangar. People eyed them speculatively as they did so, but held back. Luca disappeared, obviously understanding that Cole needed to speak with Amber alone.
“Mr. Henderson, Ms. Welsley, Merry Christmas!” called a middle-aged woman as they passed.
“Merry Christmas,” Cole automatically returned.
“Notice you got top billing,” Amber muttered.
“I’m carrying the little rich kid.”
“You are the little rich kid.”
The greeting seemed to break the ice, and they were bombarded with well-wishers all along their route.
Amber was right. While the employees were completely polite and respectful to her, Cole was getting the lion’s share of the attention.
Finally, they came to the cookie-decorating station. The attendants quickly cleared a stand-up table for them, spreading out a new paper cover and bringing an assortment of gingerbread, sugar-cookie shapes, icing and colorful candies.
“Go for it,” said Cole. “Pretend you’re completely absorbed in the cookies, and maybe people will stay away.”
She stared at the tabletop without moving.
“The tree,” Cole prompted. “Decorate the tree with the green icing.”
Amber picked up a plastic knife.