“Well?” he asked. He couldn’t wait any longer. The suspense was killing him.
Candace stared down at the paper as she flipped through the pages of his outline. She finally looked up at him.
Sam held his breath.
Their eyes locked.
“This isn’t what you usually write,” Candace said.
Sam nodded. “I know.”
“But . . .”—Candace looked back down at the outline before looking back up at him—“this could work.”
A wave of relief washed over him. “Really?” he asked. He was still too afraid to get his hopes up.
Candace gave him a sharp look. “Have I ever given you a compliment I didn’t mean?”
“Uh, no,” Sam said. “But my whole career, as you put it, also hasn’t ever been on the line before.”
Candace smiled for the first time, and when she did, her eyes softened. “I think this is a smart story. The mystery is fresh and fun, but most of all, it feels honest and real. I think your readers will love it, and I think the publisher will embrace it, too.”
“And you?” Sam asked. He needed to hear her say it.
She didn’t disappoint him. “And I love it.”
When Sam laughed, it was a laugh filled with relief. He gave Candace a heartfelt hug. “Thank you. I know it’s different, but when I wrote it, it just felt right.”
“That’s because you’re different now,” Candace said as she handed him back his pages. “And it’s natural for your books to grow and change as you do. That’s being authentic, and as long as you keep telling good stories, your readers will continue to grow and change with you.”
Candace walked over to the closet to get her coat.
“Thank you, Candace . . .”
“For what?” she asked. “Doing my job?”
“That,” Sam said, “and for being a good friend. For pushing me to keep writing and making sure I told the right story.”
Candace nodded as she headed for the door. “Have you figured out the ending yet?”
Sam shook his head. “Not yet. I have to fix some things first, and you know how I work.”
“Yes, I do,” Candace said. “And I’m just happy you’re finally working again.” She opened the door. “I have to get back to the city. Keep writing. Stay up here as long as you want. It’s obviously working for you, but remember we don’t have a lot of time left. I want updates. Don’t disappear on me again.”
Sam joined her at the door and held it open for her. “I won’t. I promise.”
Candace was halfway out the door when she stopped and turned around. Looking into his eyes, she took his hand. “I’m proud of you, Sam. I know this hasn’t been easy. Nice work.”
Sam smiled back at her and gave her one more hug. “Merry Christmas, Candace.”
After Sam watched Candace get into her car and drive off, he shut the door and leaned against it, relieved. He then looked down at Dasher, who was right by his side, and pumped his fist in victory.
“We did it!”
Dasher barked and wagged his tail, celebrating with him.
Chapter Thirty
As Emmie and Grant walked through town, she tried to let go of her disappointment about Grant’s missing their Santa photo and tried to focus on the positive instead. They still had the whole day together, and she had so many Christmasy things on her list for them to do.
Holding her hand, Grant gave it a little squeeze. “I’m sorry about the picture. You know how important this case is to my chance at making partner.”
“I know,” Emmie said. “Maybe we can go back later.”
“Right,” Grant said, although he didn’t sound all that enthusiastic.
“As long as we’re together, that’s all that matters to me,” Emmie said. “I know both of our work schedules have been crazy, but we both agreed right now, on our vacation, we’d put us first. I know your job is important, but so is mine. I have a lot of people counting on me to help make their holidays better, and we have our huge Christmas dinner coming up—”
“That I got the firm to donate all those dinners to,” Grant reminded her.
“And I really appreciate that, but right now, here at Christmas Point, this is supposed to be our time to celebrate our first Christmas together. You know how much Christmas means to me and why it’s something I wanted to share with you.”
“I hear you, loud and clear,” Grant said. He kissed her rosy cheek. “And I promise I’m going to make it up to you. Wait until you see the surprise I got you. Your present.”
Emmie took his other hand and faced him. She looked up into his eyes. “Grant, all I want is to spend time with you. Your being present would be the best present of all.”
Grant laughed. “I’m right here.”
Emmie squeezed his hands. “I’m talking about your being here without your work calls interrupting us every few minutes. Let your boss know that you’re in the middle of something and that you’ll check in later, unless it’s a true emergency. Is that too much to ask?”
“Of my boss, yes,” Grant said.
Emmie’s shoulders slumped.
“But I’ll try,” he said. “He does know I’m on vacation. He’s just used to being able to reach me any time he wants.”
“Maybe it’s time you set some boundaries,” Emmie said.
Grant laughed. “Again, with my boss, not possible, but let me text him now. I’ll tell him I’m not going to be available for the next few hours, unless it’s an emergency, and that I’ll check in with him later. Okay? Would that make you happy?”
Emmie nodded. “I’ll take anything I can get at this point.”
She felt like Grant’s boss totally abused the fact that Grant would always answer his calls, whether it was in the middle of the night or in the middle of something important. She knew Grant was trying to make partner and hoped once he landed the position he wouldn’t feel the need to be on call 24/7. It’s not like he was a heart surgeon. He was a lawyer, and Emmie thought that once he made partner, he really needed to set some boundaries or they’d never see each other.
After Grant finished texting his boss, he held out the phone for Emmie to see. He then turned the ringer to silent.
“There you go,” Grant said. “Happy?”
Emmie gave him a grateful smile. “Very.” She quickly kissed him. “Thank you.”
“So what’s next on our schedule?” Grant asked.
When Emmie’s referee whistle alert sounded off on her phone, Grant looked pleased. “Perfect timing. See, we’re right . . .”—Grant made air quotes—“on track. I love this app. Let’s go.”
Emmie smiled back at him. She really wanted to believe their vacation could be saved and they were about to start spending some quality time together.
WHEN EMMIE AND Grant arrived at the Christmas Point Community Center, even Grant looked impressed by all the pretty Christmas trees out front. Each one was decorated in a different theme.
“I like this one,” Grant said as he eyed a perfect blue spruce. It was decorated all in gold. “It looks like money.”
Emmie laughed. “It definitely looks more designer chic than country cozy.”
“Exactly,” Grant agreed.
Emmie walked over to another pretty tree. “This is the kind I always get. A Douglas fir.”
Grant motioned back over to the blue spruce. “Really? My family always gets one of these.”
Emmie left her tree and joined Grant back at the blue spruce. It was a bright blue color, and the branches were spread out, with lots of space between them, and stiff.
“Why do you like blue spruce?” Emmie asked.
Grant shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just what my mom always gets. She likes how the branches are so strong that she can put all her big ornaments on them. She always says everyone gets a Douglas fir. She liked being different. Then a few years ago, she gave up the real trees and got this really expensive artificial one that already had the lights on it and everything. Talk ab
out a perfect tree. It’s impressive and there’s no mess. Definitely the way to go, I think.”
Emmie shook her head. She couldn’t disagree more. “I can’t imagine not having a real tree. The way they look and smell, that’s Christmas to me.”
“That’s what those balsam fir candles are for,” Grant said. “I’ll have to get you some.”
Emmie opened her mouth to explain that’s not what she meant, but decided to just let Grant have his moment.
“So where are all these trees going?” Grant asked.
“People in town decorate them. Then I heard, after the tree lighting, all these trees light up, too, and people buy tickets to come and see them and vote, because there are competitions. All the money goes to charity.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Grant said. “But then what happens to them?”
“They’re donated to families in need that haven’t been able to get a tree yet. Even though it’s right before Christmas, they always seem to really appreciate it, because they normally wouldn’t have a tree, and then they have ornaments for next year. We do something like this at our community center, too.”
Grant smiled up at the blue spruce. “Well, this one is getting my vote,” Grant said.
Emmie walked over to a cute little Douglas fir decorated with wooden hearts and stars with carved-out words like joy, love, and noel. Emmie pointed to the word love. “I guess you could say this one speaks to me.”
Grant smiled and joined her. “I still think the blue spruce is going to win.”
Emmie laughed and mentally filed away the information that if they ever got a Christmas tree together, they would probably have to get two. A blue spruce for Grant and a Douglas fir for her, because she couldn’t even begin to imagine a Christmas without a Douglas fir.
She took Grant’s arm. “We better get going inside,” Emmie said. “We don’t want to be late.”
“For?” Grant asked.
Emmie grinned back at him. “You just have to wait and see.”
As they entered the community center’s dining hall, Emmie was surprised to see so many people. She figured there had to be almost a hundred people gathered around different tables.
Christmas music was playing, and everyone was wearing something festive like Santa hats, reindeer antlers, or elf hats.
Excited, Emmie immediately grabbed two elf hats off a table and handed one to Grant. “Here you go. Put this on.” The elf hats were pointy red-and-white-striped stocking caps that reached all the way down to the middle of your back and had a little bell at the very end.
Grant gave the hat a suspicious look. “This isn’t going to fit me.”
Emmie laughed and took the hat from him. “It stretches,” she said and put the hat on his head. When she stood back and looked at him, she couldn’t stop laughing. Grant looked ridiculous in an adorable Christmasy kind of way.
When Grant went to take the hat off, Emmie stopped him. “No, you have to wear it,” she said. She quickly put on her own elf hat and modeled it for Grant. “What do you think?”
Grant shook his head and looked at her like she was nuts. “You look crazy.”
Emmie’s smile grew. “Christmas crazy? Then it’s perfect.”
Grant laughed. “Whatever you want to call it.” When he tried to adjust his elf hat, it only ended up looking more hilarious. He couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable if he tried.
Emmie came over and gave him a reassuring hug. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”
Grant scratched his head. “It itches. Where have these even been?”
Emmie laughed at the concerned look on his face. “You are so overthinking this,” she said. She grabbed his hand and led him over to a table covered with different rolls of Christmas wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows. Next to the table was a pile of presents, mostly children’s toys.
Grant started to look really nervous. He picked up a box with a Barbie doll in it. “Tell me we’re not doing what I think we’re doing?” he said.
Emmie laughed. “That depends on what you think we’re doing.”
“Wrapping presents?” Grant asked.
“Ding, ding, ding. You win,” Emmie said and handed him a roll of Christmas wrapping paper that had penguins wearing Santa hats on it.
Grant shook his head as he put the wrapping paper and the doll down. “Trust me. You don’t want me trying to wrap presents. No one wants me to try to wrap presents.”
Emmie laughed and picked up the paper and the Barbie. She then cut off a piece of paper and started expertly wrapping the doll. Within seconds, she had a perfectly wrapped gift with a big red bow on top. She proudly held it up and examined her work.
“See? Piece of cake.”
Grant laughed. He did not look convinced at all. “I think I’d be better at making a cake than doing this.”
“Come on,” Emmie said in her most encouraging voice. “You have to try. It’s easy.” Emmie picked up a small puzzle with puppies on it. “This will be easy. Just watch. First you get the gift. Set it on the paper so you can measure how much paper you need. Cut the paper, grab some tape, tape it up like this.”
Emmie’s fingers flew as she taped up one side of the box and flipped it over to do the other side. “And voilà!” she said, holding up the box. “There you go. Now you just need to add some ribbon and a bow, and you’re good to go.”
Grant gave her a skeptical look. “Easy for you to say. You’re, like, the gift-wrapping queen.”
She laughed. “It is easy. Try it.” She handed him a children’s book. It was Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer, one of her favorites.
Grant looked nervous.
Emmie picked out some pretty shiny red foil gift-wrapping paper and handed it to Grant. “Go for it.”
Grant shrugged. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He took the paper and grabbed some scissors and cut off a piece of wrapping paper to wrap the book in.
Emmie’s eyes grew huge as she watched him cut off a piece so big it could have wrapped three books. She didn’t say anything, though, because she didn’t want to discourage him. When she tried to help and hand him some tape, they bumped into each other.
“Sorry,” she said quickly.
“No, that was me,” Grant said.
“I guess we’re not really in sync,” Emmie said, not meaning to say the words out loud.
Grant didn’t respond because he was too busy fighting with the tape dispenser and it was winning. When he finally tore a piece of tape off, it stuck together and was useless.
Seeing his growing frustration, Emmie jumped in to help. “Don’t worry, that happens all the time,” she said in her most encouraging voice.
Grant didn’t say anything. He just gave her a look.
To speed things up, Emmie grabbed some ribbon and cut off a piece for him and was about to hold it out to him when Grant picked up his wrapped present.
“Hey, I think I—” he started, but before he could finish the sentence, the tape came undone, and the wrapping paper slid off the book and onto the floor.
Emmie hadn’t meant to laugh, but the look on Grant’s face was priceless, especially because it was paired with his elf hat. “Wait,” she said and grabbed her phone. “I have to get a picture of this.”
“Emmie, no. Please,” Grant protested.
“It’s for our first Christmas album. It’ll be great,” Emmie said and snapped a couple of quick pictures before Grant could say anything else. She put her phone away, grabbed the wrapping paper off the floor, and stood next to Grant. “Here, let me show you again.”
Grant shook his head. “No, it’s okay. This proved my point. This isn’t in my skill set.”
“It’s easy,” Emmie said, trying to show him. “You just had too much paper.” She picked up the scissors. “We just need to cut it right here and—”
But Grant took off his hat and put it on the table. “Nope. I’m officially retiring from my elf duties, and I’m going to go do something I’m goo
d at. Get us some coffee. I know I need some. You?”
When Emmie gave him a disappointed look, Grant kissed her quickly. “Not everyone can be a wrapping genius like you. I’ll be back.”
Emmie called out after him. “I’ll take some hot chocolate, not coffee, with extra marshmallows.”
Grant gave her the thumbs-up as he disappeared into the crowd.
“Extra marshmallows, huh? Looks like someone’s finally coming around to the right way to drink hot chocolate.”
Emmie whirled around and saw Sam walking toward her.
Chapter Thirty-One
When her heart started to race, she reminded herself that she wasn’t speaking to Sam. Whether he’d meant to or not, he’d hurt her, and she wasn’t about to be made a fool of twice.
When he got to her table, his smile grew even bigger when he saw the elf hat Grant had left behind.
“Cool hat,” he said as he quickly picked it up and put it on, totally owning the look. “They said they were all out of elf hats.” He grinned back at her. “How do I look?”
Emmie, ignoring him, picked up the book Grant had abandoned, and with record speed, started wrapping it. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Sam wasn’t taking the hint and going away. Instead he was actually joining her. She tried to put some distance between them. However, she was wedged up against the wall and a pile of presents.
“Need some help?” Sam asked cheerfully.
Emmie just kept wrapping.
Sam waved his hand in front of her face and laughed. “Earth to Emmie. You there?”
Emmie still refused to look at him. She just wanted him to go away. “I don’t need any help . . . from you.”
“Ouch,” Sam said. “That’s not very elf-like of you. I don’t think Santa would approve.” He picked up a roll of gold-embossed wrapping paper. “Are you sure you don’t want my help, because you have a lot of presents here still to wrap, and I happen to be really good at it. Some call me the Christmas-gift-wrapping king.”
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