The waiter looked at her empty wineglass. “Would you like some more wine while you wait?”
Emmie forced a smile. “Actually, I just heard from my boyfriend that he’s not going to be able to make it.”
The compassionate look the waiter gave her made her feel even worse.
“He had a work emergency. He’s a lawyer, and he’s trying to make partner.” Stop talking, she told herself. You don’t have to explain anything. You’re only making it worse. Why she felt the need to explain everything to the waiter was beyond her, except the fact that she felt like people were starting to stare, and she didn’t want anyone thinking she’d been stood up.
“So it will be just you dining?” the waiter asked as he started clearing away Grant’s plate and wineglass.
When Emmie looked up and saw the cute couple she’d seen by the tree give her a sympathetic look, she quickly got out her wallet, paid for her wine, leaving a generous tip, and hastily stood up. “I actually have to go, too,” she told the waiter.
The waiter picked up the little box wrapped with red foil paper and a big silver bow and handed it to her. “You don’t want to forget this.”
Emmie fought to smile. “Thank you.”
She tried not to hurry as she left the restaurant, acting like everything was okay, but what she really felt was disappointed and embarrassed. Her rational self knew she was being ridiculous and that no one cared what she was doing, but she cared, and that was the problem.
As soon as she got outside, she immediately called Grant. It took him four rings to pick up, and when he did, she could barely hear him. It sounded like he was surrounded by a lot of people who were talking, and there was loud music playing.
“Grant?” She held the phone closer to her ear. “Can you hear me?”
“Barely,” Grant said. “Did you get my text?”
“Yes, I got it,” Emmie said. She was thankful for all the noise so he wouldn’t hear how frustrated she felt. “Where are you?”
“At Prime Steak,” Grant said. The rest of what he said was drowned out by the noise.
“What?” Emmie asked. “You’re at a restaurant!”
“We had to take a client out,” Grant said, and then said something else, but Emmie couldn’t hear him over the music in the background.
Emmie looked at her phone. “That was the emergency? You canceled our date, a dinner I’ve been planning for months, to take a client out?” This time she didn’t even try to hide her disappointment.
“We had a setback with his case,” Grant said. “We’re doing damage control. I have to go. My boss is waiting for me. It’s going to be a late night. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”
“But wait! I have to get you your present.” Emmie looked down at the little red box she was holding. The silver ribbon was a little crooked now. “You need to get it tonight so you can open it tomorrow morning to start following the clues.”
“What about the news?” Grant asked. The noise in the restaurant was getting louder.
“Clues!” Emmie shouted. “The clues. It’s part of the surprise I was going to tell you about.”
“Got it,” Grant shouted back. “I’ll get it when I get home tonight. I have to go, Em. Just drop it off with the doorman. See you tomorrow.”
Grant hung up the phone before Emmie could say anything else. For a moment, she just stood there, speechless and disappointed, staring at her phone.
EMMIE’S MOOD HADN’T improved much by the time she walked into the lobby of Grant’s high-rise condo building. It was one of the most prestigious condominiums in Seattle and everything about it said money. Grant had told her he picked it because the address alone would help him make partner.
However, her spirits did lift a little when she stopped for a moment to admire a spectacular ten-foot Christmas tree in the lobby. It was a majestic blue spruce decorated with all gold ornaments, giving it an elegant and expensive look.
When she got to the reception desk, she smiled at the doorman, who wore a name tag identifying him as Hank. Emmie instantly felt bad for him, because he was sorting through a huge pile of packages, floral arrangements, and mail, and he was looking very stressed out.
“Wow,” Emmie said, trying to lighten the mood.
Hank continued to pile up more boxes, trying to make room for everything. At this point, he had two stacks of boxes that were more than five feet tall and dozens of smaller boxes and gift-wrapped presents covering the reception desk.
“It’s the last big push before Christmas,” Hank said. “We always get slammed right about now. It’s a full-time job just keeping up with all of these deliveries.”
“I bet,” Emmie said and then gave him a guilty look. “And I hate to do this to you, but . . .” Emmie put Grant’s present on the counter. “I have one more to add to your collection. But it’s small. It won’t take up much room. It’s for Grant Baxter. He’s in condo 1425. He’s going to pick it up tonight. So it won’t be here very long.” She gave Hank a hopeful look. “So it’s okay if I leave it here?”
Hank sighed. “Sure. Hold on.” He quickly grabbed a pad of yellow sticky notes and wrote Grant’s name and apartment number 1425 on it and stuck it on top of the present.
“Thank you so much . . .” Emmie looked at his name tag again and smiled. “Hank. I really appreciate it. Merry Christmas.”
Hank nodded as he put Grant’s present with some other wrapped gifts.
As Emmie left the lobby, she glanced again at the Christmas tree and got an idea. She knew just what she needed to cheer herself up.
THE FIR EVER Christmas tree lot was just about to close when Emmie rushed in. She hurried over to one of the male workers who was just taking off his Santa hat.
“Do I still have time to get a tree?” she asked.
He checked his watch. “If you hurry.”
Emmie grinned back at him. “Thank you! I will.” When she ran off, she headed in the direction of the smallest trees that were set up at the end of the lot. Luckily, she knew just what she wanted. Within five minutes, she was at the checkout counter holding an adorable little four-foot Douglas fir Christmas tree. After she paid, she took a silly selfie with it, where she looked like she was kissing the tree, and texted the picture to Denise.
Denise instantly texted back: OMG!
Denise’s text also had three laughing emojis.
Emmie then quickly texted Grant: I left your present with the doorman. Don’t forget to pick it up.
She waited a few seconds to see if she’d get a response, and when Grant only texted her back a thumbs-up emoji, she sighed. At least he got the text, she thought. She sent him back a heart and a Christmas tree emoji and then turned her attention back to her new Christmas tree.
“Okay, little guy,” she said. “You’re coming home with me!”
WHEN EMMIE ARRIVED home, she took a candy cane out of her purse. “I guess you’re going to be dinner.” She loved her loft-style apartment in an old restored three-story brick warehouse. The building had the same general look and feel that the community center had, and she knew that was probably why she felt so at home here.
As soon as she got to her apartment, she started taking care of her little tree. Lucky for her, this wasn’t the first time she’d bought more than one tree for her apartment, so she knew just where her other tree stand was. Within ten minutes, her new tree was up, in fresh water, and proudly displayed in front of her living room window, across from her six-foot Christmas tree that was already decorated.
Her entire apartment looked like a scene from a Christmas fairy tale. There were hundreds of white twinkle lights hanging overhead, attached to the loft’s old wooden ceiling beams. The lights also outlined all the windows. From top to bottom, Emmie’s apartment was filled with all kinds of Christmas decorations from vintage to modern, similar to how her office was decorated. Emmie didn’t discriminate. She had a snow globe collection, an angel collection, and a snowman collection, as well as several antique nativity sets. Wh
ile it could have easily looked like a Christmas hoarder’s situation, thanks to the tasteful way Emmie had decorated, it looked magical. It was the perfect balance of old and new, and it felt genuine and real. It was decorated with love, for love, and that’s what made it feel so special.
As Emmie stood back and admired her new little tree, she thought about how she wanted to decorate it and then decided she would actually save it for Grant and herself to decorate together when they got back from Christmas Point. Grant didn’t have any decorations at his place, and this way they could still decorate a tree together that was small enough that it wouldn’t take up too much time, as she knew how busy Grant would be catching up on work when they got home.
Her stomach growling reminded her that she probably needed to eat more than just a candy cane for dinner. When she headed into the kitchen and opened up her refrigerator, her stomach growled louder because it was mostly empty. Since she knew she was going away for vacation, she didn’t have much left to choose from. She had a few eggs, a little milk, and some strawberries, and that was pretty much it. That’s when she remembered something she’d bought a few weeks ago but hadn’t had time to make yet. She opened up her cupboard and took out a box of gingerbread pancake mix. She was thrilled to find out she had just enough eggs and milk to make it work.
“Holly, turn on Christmas music,” Emmie said loudly as she faced the living room. She had renamed her home assistant Holly.
“Playing Christmas music,” Holly answered back.
As Andy Williams’s “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” started to play, Emmie began to dance a little. It was her dad’s favorite song. “Holly, turn up volume.”
AN HOUR LATER, after changing into her cozy flannel pajamas and eating her delicious gingerbread pancakes, Emmie sat in her living room, curled up on the couch with her snowflake shawl wrapped around her shoulders. As she sipped her hot chocolate, loaded with tiny pink and white marshmallows, out of her favorite Santa mug, the Christmas song “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” played softly in the background. The song always made her feel nostalgic. The words “I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams” reminded her of all the special Christmases she had with her parents. While they couldn’t be with her now, in her dreams and in her heart, she would always continue to share Christmas with them.
She picked up a silver antique framed picture from her coffee table. It was of Emmie and her parents when she was little standing in front of the first Christmas tree they’d let her pick out on her own. The tree was about as tall as she was at the time: four feet.
Emmie smiled, remembering that tree so well as she looked over at the tree she had just bought. It looked exactly like the tree in her picture. She held the picture to her heart as she looked up at all her white twinkle lights. “Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad.”
Chapter Six
Sam was just wrapping up his night, finishing decorating his new Christmas tree, adding his sister’s favorite red-and-green-plaid bows, when he got a text from Candace asking if he’d gotten what she’d sent over. He hadn’t even checked with his doorman, as his hands had been full with his new tree.
When he called down to the lobby, he got Ted, one of the new doormen who had just come on shift. Ted told him he did have a package waiting.
As Sam headed downstairs, he texted Candace back: It came.
She texted him back: Good. This should help with your writing. See you tomorrow.
When Sam got down to the lobby, his eyes widened. He couldn’t believe all the packages he saw stacked up around the reception counter. On the counter, there were at least a dozen Christmas floral arrangements, along with food baskets and wrapped presents.
He admired one of the floral arrangements of white roses and fresh evergreen while he waited for Ted to get off the phone.
As soon as Ted hung up, the phone rang again, and as he struggled to pick up the right line, he looked up at Sam. “Can I help you?” he asked, sounding as overwhelmed as he looked.
“Sorry,” Sam said. “I see you’re completely swamped here, but I just called. I’m Sam Riley. I have a package to pick up. I’m in condo 864.”
Ted, frazzled, held the phone to his chest. “What number again?”
“Number 864. Sam Riley.”
Ted hurriedly looked through the items on the counter.
Sam watched him pick up a yellow sticky note that said Sam Riley #864 off the counter. It was in between a giant fruit basket and a little Christmas present wrapped with red foil paper and a crooked silver bow.
Still talking on the phone, Ted hastily stuck the note on the present and handed it to Sam. “Here you go.”
Sam was admiring the wrapping and straightening out the crooked silver bow when a man walked up to the counter.
“Do you have a package for me?” the man asked Ted. “My girlfriend dropped it off. I’m in 1425. Grant Baxter.”
Ted, still talking on the phone, looked like he was about to lose it.
Sam actually felt sorry for Ted as he watched him frantically look for Grant’s package. When Ted saw another yellow sticky note sitting next to the giant fruit basket, he slapped it on the basket and pushed the basket toward Grant.
“Thank you,” Grant said.
When Sam got to the elevator first and saw Grant right behind him, he held the elevator door open for him.
“I got the elevator,” Sam said. “Looks like you have your hands full there.”
“Thanks,” Grant said as he got in.
“That’s some fruit basket you have there,” Sam said.
Grant laughed. “Yeah, it sure is. My girlfriend is all about the bigger the better at Christmas.”
Sam laughed. When the elevator stopped on the eighth floor, he got out. “Merry Christmas.”
Grant nodded. “Have a good night.”
When Sam got to his door, he smiled at his Christmas Spirit Wreath and then looked down at his little present. “So let’s see what you’ve sent me, Candace. Pretty impressive wrapping. I know you didn’t wrap this yourself.”
When Sam entered his condo and walked over to the fireplace he was already carefully taking the silver ribbon and bow off the present. He looked for a card but didn’t find one.
When he first opened the box, all he saw was a lot of red and green tissue paper. Then he found a pretty white paper scroll tied with red velvet ribbon. Intrigued, he unrolled the scroll and read the handwritten note out loud:
“In this Christmas Scavenger Hunt, the clues will take you to where you need to be.
Tomorrow morning, find your next clue in your lobby underneath the tallest tree.”
Sam laughed, and as he read the scroll again, his smile grew. “So this is how you plan to help inspire my next mystery novel, Candace. A scavenger hunt? I love it. Game on!”
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Saturday, was one of those picture-perfect days in Seattle where the sky was so clear you could see all the way to Mount Rainier. It always boosted Emmie’s spirits whenever she could see Mount Rainier on her way to work. It was the highest mountain of the Cascades in the Pacific Northwest and it was a beauty. For her, seeing the mountain was like a sign of good luck, because it didn’t happen very often when there were so many cloudy and overcast winter days. But today there it was, in all its majestic glory, and she knew, without a doubt, that this was the start of what was going to be a very special vacation for her and Grant. She smiled just thinking about how Grant would have opened his present, unrolling the little white scroll, and getting his first Christmas clue for his scavenger hunt.
She couldn’t wait to get up to Christmas Point but had to stop by the community center first. As she hurried inside, she promised herself she wouldn’t stay too long and would get back on the road soon.
An hour later, when Denise walked into her office, Emmie was sitting at her desk, on her computer, having just hung up the phone.
Denise was surprised to see her. “What are you doing he
re?” Denise asked. “I thought you’d be halfway up the mountain by now.”
Emmie shut her laptop, smiled, and stood up. “I just had a few things I needed to wrap up first. But now I’m out of here.”
Emmie’s referee whistle alert went off on her phone.
Denise laughed. “And apparently you’re”—Denise did air quotes with her fingers—“right on track.”
Emmie smiled good-naturedly as she turned off the alert. “Exactly. So everything should be all set. We’re good here, right?” When Emmie saw Denise’s smile fade a little, she frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Emmie asked.
Denise quickly recovered. “Nothing. Everything’s great.”
Emmie’s eyes narrowed. “Denise, I know you. What is it? Spill.”
Denise sighed. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. It’s just the Meyers family.”
“The mom who asked for help getting Christmas decorations to surprise her daughter who’s coming home from the hospital?”
“Right,” Denise said. “Only the decorations never arrived, and right now we’re all out until more donations come in.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” Emmie said.
Denise gave her a look. “But you need to go.”
Emmie started gathering up Christmas decorations from her office. “And the Meyers family needs some decorations. That comes first.”
Emmie picked up a box of her new ornaments and took her Christmas Spirit Wreath off her door. “I’ve got this. I’m good.”
AS EMMIE DROVE up to the North Peak apartment complex she could tell it had seen better days. When she saw children playing soccer in the street, she made a mental note to reach out to some sporting goods stores to see if they could donate more sports equipment. Her supply at the community center was running low. Actually, Emmie hated to think about how all their supplies were running low this time of year. Even though this was the time of year they always received the most donations, with people embracing the holiday spirit and wanting to do what they could, this was also when they saw the greatest need.
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