'Twas the Kiss Before Christmas

by Susan Hatler

  “None that I can see. Every excursion I take him on to help him see reason somehow turns into a tour that makes him see dollar signs.” I shook my head and then sipped the cup of coffee Morgan had ordered for me. “I thought if he saw our operation in action that would make him understand why he can’t sell his dad’s dream. Your sabotage idea didn’t work either.”

  Something niggled at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t quite grasp it. I filled her in on the details of the excursions until the server brought our meals. Then I dug into the pancakes with real gusto and dipped a crispy, tender and smoking hot home fry into rich ketchup.

  “I can’t figure Adam out,” I said, lifting another fry. “He’s Mr. Kline’s son, after all. You’d think he would be fond of the business his dad put his heart and soul into.”

  Morgan shrugged. “It wasn’t his dream, though. It was his dad’s dream. Remember how hard it was for me to convince my parents to let me follow my dream and open my beauty salon? They just wanted me to work at the family bank like my goody-goody brother.”

  “You’re right. Mr. Kline and Adam seem so different that it’s like they’re not even related. It was so easy to talk to Mr. Kline. He and I shared the same interests and we understood each other.” My eyes watered as I thought of my friendship with Mr. Kline. I hoped he was hiking lots of beautiful mountains in heaven. “Talking to Adam? The few times he’s detached his ear from his cell, it was like talking to a human calculator. He couldn’t see how special the tours were to everyone. All he sees are profit margins and a pitch deck.”

  Morgan reached for her coffee mug. “Is that a baseball reference?”

  “I wish.” My shoulders slumped as I filled her in on Adam’s term for a sales presentation. Suddenly, I realized something and then groaned. “Oh, no. This is all my fault.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “No, it isn’t. You tried. Mr. Kline would be proud of your efforts. But if Adam is determined to sell then you’re not going to change his mind.”

  I held a finger up. “I did the wrong tour. That’s the problem.”

  “Say what?”

  Excitement filled my chest. “I took him on a tour, trying to make him understand why this place was important to the people who go on tours. But he isn’t one of those people. Deep down in places he’s blocked or forgotten, he’s Mr. Kline’s kind of people.”

  My friend stared at me blankly. “I’m confused.”

  “I should’ve taken him to a place that was special to Mr. Kline!” I exclaimed, as the idea formed in my mind. “That’s what I did wrong.”

  “Whoa.” She reached over and took my fork. “Slow your carbs-and-bacon high roll for a few seconds. You’ve lost me.”

  “Mr. Kline started Silver Bells because of his love for Christmas, right? I need to take Adam to connect with his dad again. I mean, the guy didn’t even come to the memorial service.” I sucked in a deep breath, knowing exactly what I should do. “Adam sits in Mr. Kline’s old office, surrounded by spreadsheets. But that’s not Christmas. Mr. Kline loved to decorate his office. He had a lot of personal things in there, too. Adam needs to see the office decorated, so he can see that his dad loved Silver Bells with his heart and not just as a business. Then Adam will understand.”

  It was so simple. Why hadn’t I seen it before? Adam didn’t need to see with his eyes why selling off his dad’s business would be a terrible thing to do, he needed to feel it with his heart.

  I clasped my hands together. “This is the perfect way to show him. It’s a plan that just can’t go wrong.”

  “Famous last words,” Morgan said, giving me a wink.

  Chapter Ten

  My sleep had been restless again last night and this time it wasn’t just my job (or possible lack of it) keeping me awake, but my surprising attraction to Adam. My brain kept replaying the feeling of his leg against mine under the blanket on the dog sled, even though my job that I loved was on the line. Seriously, what was wrong with my subconscious?

  I’d even had a dream in which there were two Adams. There was my boss Adam, who was handing a burlap bag to me and telling me he was giving me the sack and there was the Adam with the sweet smile and beautiful eyes, who was telling me everything would be okay.

  Although everything would not be okay unless Adam kept Silver Bells Luxury Tours. It was time to implement my new tactic in plan “Save Silver Bells.” This had better work or . . . it had just better work.

  Breaking out my expensive only-for-special-occasions shower gel, I doused myself in the scented soap with frangipane and sandalwood notes. I took more time than usual getting ready, styling my hair into a “messy” bun, which was designed to look like it had just been thrown together (as if). Then I topped my jeans with a baby pink fluffy sweater that made me look cute (according to Morgan), and I opted for a high-heeled pair of boots. A dab of lip-gloss and a couple coats of mascara gave me a fresh-faced and together look. I was ready.

  “Good morning, Faith.” Harmony waved at me from behind her desk as I entered the lobby of Silver Bells Luxury Tours. “You look nice today. Do you have a meeting or something?”

  “Meeting? Nope.” I hung up my coat, flicked through the mail, and then casually asked her if Adam had arrived yet. My belly did a little flip as I said his name and I wanted to kick myself.

  “Yes, Adam is in his father’s office. I mean, his father’s old office. I mean . . . ” For a moment she looked sad and I knew how she felt. We knew Mr. Kline was gone, but sometimes it still felt unreal. But then she narrowed her eyes, scrutinized my face, and her eyes darted to my outfit again. “Oh, my goodness. You like him!”

  My eyes widened. “Who?”

  “Don’t play innocent.” She waved her hand at me, gesturing to my fluffy pink sweater. “You’re dolled up more than usual today. You blushed when you said Adam’s name. And you keep glancing toward his door. You like Adam!”

  “Shhh! He’ll hear you,” I said, briefly considering sending her home for a day off if she couldn’t quiet down. “And that’s ridiculous. I don’t like Adam.” I used my fingers to make air quotes around the word “like.” “Really, Harmony. He’s my boss. Our boss.”

  “Hey, I’m not judging. I might’ve been interested in him myself if I weren’t dating the world’s most perfect boyfriend.”

  “Perfect?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say last week that Dave has permanent wax in his ears and you always feel like you’re talking to a wall?”

  “He brought me flowers after work yesterday, so we’re all good again.” She shrugged, pointing toward Adam’s new office. “But Adam, on the other hand—”

  “I just need to run something past him, that’s all,” I said, not wanting to know how she’d planned to finish that sentence.

  Harmony giggled. “Uh-huh. Suuure.”

  I gave her a “whatever” look, took a deep breath and walked down the hall toward Adam’s office.

  The door to his office was closed, but I could see through the small window that he was sitting behind his father’s old desk, studying some paperwork intently. I watched him for a few moments, trying to calm the unwitting butterflies in my stomach, before I knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” Adam called and looked up as I walked in. Our gazes locked and he seemed to do a double take before turning back to his paperwork. “You don’t need to knock, Faith.”

  “Oh, it’s just habit. I always knocked when your dad was here. And speaking of Mr. Kline . . .” I stopped in front of Adam’s desk.

  Adam looked up. “Yes?”

  “We always decorated his office for Christmas. In fact . . .” I made a show of checking my watch, even though I’d cleared my schedule for the morning already. “I have some time now, if you don’t mind. I know where your dad kept the decorations. I’ll just go get them and we can do it together, if you like.”

  He leaned back in his chair and looked at me. “You’ve done something different with your hair. You look . . .” His voice trail
ed off.

  My tummy fluttered. “I look . . .?”

  “Different.” He gazed at me for a moment longer before he cleared his throat and turned back to his computer. He began typing on the keyboard. “In answer to your earlier question . . . no, thanks. I’m too busy to decorate. Besides, I’ll hopefully be out of here soon so, honestly, don’t bother.”

  “It’s tradition, Adam. Your father loved decorating this office for Christmas, so if it’s okay with you then I’ll do it myself in his honor. I won’t get in your way, honest,” I said, smiling at him.

  He hesitated a moment before smiling back. “All right, Faith. I wouldn’t want to break with tradition.”

  “Great. Be back in a minute.” I opened the door and headed down the hall. The box of decorations was kept in the storage room. When I pulled it down from the shelf, I felt a little sad. There were so many memories wrapped up in this box, and the thought that this might be the last Christmas I used them felt wrong. I offered up a silent prayer to Adam’s father, “Mr. Kline, if you’re watching, please work your magic one more time.”

  Adam looked up as I walked back into the office and I saw him clearing a space on the desk for me, before turning his attention back to the papers in his hand. I set the two boxes down on the desk.

  “Oh, wait . . .” I checked the label on the green and red box and read it twice. Definitely not Christmas ornaments. I shook the box, which seemed to be weighted down with paper mostly. “This box is marked ‘personal’ but it was next to the decorations box. Do you want me to open—”

  “No,” he said, his tone coming out strong. Then he cleared his throat and lifted the box. “Thanks for offering, but I’ll just put it in the closet for now.”

  “Okay,” I said, feeling bad that the personal box had obviously touched a nerve. I opened the box labeled for decorations slowly, the smell of pine and cinnamon immediately filling the room. Oh, yes. This was the box I needed. “Mmm . . . the scent of Christmas.” I lifted the gingerbread candle from the top of the pile and held it out. “Smell this, Adam. Isn’t this the coziest smell?”

  He sniffed the candle and then promptly sneezed. “Excuse me. Gingerbread always makes me sneeze.”

  “Oh?” I dusted the glass container before setting the candle aside. “So, no snuggling on the couch with gingerbread cookies and cocoa then?” I blurted, my eyes widening when I realized I’d said that aloud.

  He lifted his head, looking me in the eye. “Was that an invitation?”

  My cheeks heated. “Do you want it to be an invite?”

  He paused. “Do you want me to want it to be an invite?”

  Say what you want about me, but being forward with a guy is not in my nature. So, I merely gave a tiny shrug in answer and then turned my attention to the box again, pulling out a piece of red tinsel. It was thick and lush, and used to adorn the front and sides of Mr. Kline’s desk.

  “Oh, look . . .” I unwrapped an owl ornament from the tissue paper Mr. Kline had carefully wrapped it in. Painted in a rose gold, the owl had bright amber eyes and was covered in the finest glitter. I lifted it up by its string loop and let it spin slowly, sparkling as the light caught it.

  Adam took it from my hand and looked at it, before turning it over and pointing to a small patch on its back, which was painted in a different shade of gold. “I dropped this one year, and the paint came off. I thought Dad would be mad, so I tried to repair it myself, but the paint didn’t match. When Dad saw it, do you know what he said?”

  I shook my head.

  “He said that in Japan they mend things with gold, so that all the cracks and flaws are on show. It’s called Kintsugi.” He looked up at me. “They believe that scars are a thing of beauty, so should be displayed and not hidden away.”

  “Wow,” I said, my heart warming. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more beautiful.”

  “So he hung it on our tree each year right at the front, and told me the gold patch was the very best part,” he said, and handed the owl back to me.

  “Your dad was a remarkable man.”

  He nodded. “Yes, he was. I wish I’d spent more time with him.”

  The next few minutes were spent in companionable silence, with Adam tapping away at the keyboard and me laying out the ornaments on the desk, commenting on each one as I unpacked them, hoping to stir some interest again.

  “Would you help me with one thing, Adam?”

  He nodded. “Sure, I’m just waiting for a phone call from the office. Bear with me.”

  Adam was back in work mode. Darn. I pulled a chair from the corner of the room and dragged it over to the desk, before picking up a white star, which shimmered with iridescent colors. Holding the star with one hand, I stood on the chair, my heels making it a bit difficult to balance as I reached up for the hook that was still in the ceiling above Adam’s chair. I stretched up and tottered on my feet just a little when I felt strong hands steadying at my waist.

  “Whoa,” I said, my heart pounding.

  “Faith, what the—” Adam’s warm hands sent shock waves through me as he held my skin where my sweater had ridden up a little. “Why didn’t you just wait a second?”

  “Waiting for you to take a break from work would be waiting forever,” I said, taking longer than needed to hang the star before letting go. I needed to compose myself, and I also really enjoyed the feel of Adam’s hands on my skin. I put a hand on Adam’s shoulder to steady myself, and he lifted me off the chair and set me on the floor. Even in my heels I only came up to his chest, and up close I could smell his cologne.

  “You okay?” He dipped his head to look at my face, and I nodded.

  “Yes, thank you. Just felt a little dizzy for a moment.” Well, it wasn’t a lie.

  He still had his hands on my waist when the phone rang, and I’m not ashamed to say that the grumbling in my head wasn’t very ladylike.

  Adam released me reluctantly—it seemed—or was I being hopeful? “Hello? Adam Kline speaking.” He gestured to me that he had to take the call, before sitting back down behind the desk. I busied myself with the decorations, trying to steady my heartbeat.

  Adam laughed into the phone. “Okay, when is he arriving? Next week? Sure, let me know what day and time and I’ll make sure everything is ready. Dinner? Oh, I owe you?” He spun his chair around so he had his back to me, lowering his voice as he went. “Dinner it is. How about that sushi restaurant you love so much? Right, it’s a date.”

  I couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy. Adam probably didn’t even remember my last name, let alone my favorite restaurant.

  He turned back to me. “That was Tiffany from the New York office. She spoke with the potential buyer, Miles Wilson, and really pitched a Silver Bells Day Spa.”

  I sighed. It wasn’t deliberate but I couldn’t help it. I hoped Tiffany choked on her sushi. Then I felt bad for thinking it, because . . . karma.

  “Could you pass me that frame, Adam?”

  Adam reached into the box and pulled out a golden frame, but instead of handing it to me, he sat on the corner of his desk staring at it. He rubbed his fingertips along the words and I thought I saw his eyes water a little.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “This was my favorite poem as a kid,” he said, his voice thick, and he swallowed hard. “’Twas the Night Before Christmas . . .”

  “Oh, right. Everyone knows that one. And all through the house . . .”

  He nodded. “Each year, Dad would get the poem out and I’d read it to my parents on Christmas Eve, right up until they divorced. I can’t believe he had this poem framed.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. Your dad was a pretty sentimental guy.”

  Adam looked at the poem more closely, then took the back off the frame and examined the piece of paper. “Oh, my. . . This is the exact same piece of paper I’d used to read the poem. Look, those are my fingerprints from where I had been eating chocolate coins and got all messy . . . and there! That’s where I ri
pped the page because I turned it too quickly.” He sighed. “Christmas was so good until they split.”

  I took the frame from his hands and set it on the desk, before putting both my hands over his. “I’m sorry, Adam. It doesn’t matter how long ago it was, it still hurts, doesn’t it? When my parents divorced I was devastated, and Christmas has never been the same. Well, not until I came to work here. Your dad put the magic back in Christmas for me, with a little help from my mentor Ms. King. She introduced your dad to me.”

  Adam held my gaze and ran his thumb across my cheek. “You have glitter . . .” His voice trailed off and for a moment, time stood still as he looked into my eyes. Still holding his hands, I returned his gaze, and there we stood like time was endless.

  “Faith! You still in there?” Harmony’s voice cut through the loaded silence. “I just found this other box of ornaments and thought you could use them.”

  And just like that, the spell between Adam and me was broken.

  She came into the office obviously unaware of the moment she’d interrupted. She winked at me as she handed me the box, before going back to the reception desk.

  “Here, let me give you a hand,” Adam said, finding his voice first. “Work can wait.” He picked up a hammer and jammed a nail into the wall for the frame. “What’s next?”

  I found a sprig of mistletoe that was at the top of the box, its plastic berries losing their color, and smiled. “Your father always insisted on having this above his door every year. We tried to get him to hang fresh mistletoe but he said it was under this very sprig that he stole his first kiss from your mom.”

  I held it in position, and Adam reached up, hammering it into place. Standing so close to him I could smell his cologne again, and I breathed deeply, wanting to smell his scent forever. Mistletoe in place, Adam lowered the hammer and I let go of the sprig, bringing my arms back to my sides, but neither of us moved away.

  Whether it was the mistletoe, or his cologne, or the sheer emotion of the moment, I didn’t know, but I rose up on my tiptoes and gently brushed his mouth with mine. His lips were soft as he kissed me back, taking me by surprise as he held my face with one hand, before pulling away ever so gently.