Jingle Wars

by R. Holmes

  I don’t even know why he’s here. He can’t be stopping by for a simple, neighborly cup of sugar. But it’s time to start, so I’ll have to grill him about it after the grand unveiling.

  Keeping my camera-ready smile plastered in place by sheer force of will, I start my introduction to the small crowd of resort guests gathered. “Hi everyone! Who’s excited for today’s big reveal?” A little boy in front with a missing tooth cheers loudly. I laugh. “Well, all right, then! That’s what I like to hear. We’re going live to share this with our guests far and wide so they know what a gem Hollyridge is to visit for their next vacation. Will you help me out? I need a special volunteer to try it out with.”

  The little boy beams and pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!”

  A ripple of amusement moves through the gathered audience. I set my phone up on a short handheld tripod and tap the live button on my phone screen. Once it’s all ready to go, my smile grows wider.

  “Hi, Alpine friends and family!” I wave to the phone screen as viewers join the stream.

  From the corner of my eye I spot Finn crossing his arms. He doesn’t sit in one of the leather armchairs by the roaring fire, standing stiffly, staring me down like a big moody shadow while I host the livestream.

  No pressure.

  “For those of you watching from somewhere else in the world, we miss you! Come to your favorite home away from home at one of our Anderson Resorts locations.”

  Did he really just scoff? Oh my god, focus!

  “I’m Freya Anderson and we’re coming at you live from the Alpine Mountain Resort in breathtakingly beautiful Hollyridge, Montana. I’m for real, folks, if you’ve never seen the snowy northwestern mountain country, you need to get here for the winter season!” Leaning close like I’m divulging a secret, I add, “But don’t be like me, fooled by Pinterest street fashion bloggers. If you’re from somewhere warm, pack accordingly. But we’ve got you covered if you forget your second and maybe third layer of socks at the Alpine Outfitters right in our lobby.”

  The people around me titter at my anecdote. This time it’s undeniable that Finn rolls his eyes. I turn my back on him and change the angle to show off the guests.

  “We’ve got some of our Alpine friends and family in residence joining me for today’s special event. I have a helper who will give me a hand testing out our newest attraction to entertain you during your visit. There’s never a shortage of events and activities at the Alpine.” Starting for the tinted glass doors at the back of the lobby that lead to the rest of the resort grounds, I address both the in person guests and my phone. “Who’s ready for the surprise? Let’s go see it!”

  Out back on the patio, space heaters put off a comfortable blanket of warmth to protect the outdoor bar area from the weather. A green curtain hides the sleigh. I give a brief tour of one of the Alpine’s three fully stocked bars with award-winning mixologists for the livestream, then stop next to the green curtain.

  Finn, Riley, and their friend followed us out, but Finn remains by the door with a wary expression, his thick brows pinched together.

  “Ok, it’s time for the grand reveal!” I tug a hidden tie and the curtain flutters to the ground, unveiling a large shiny red sleigh, one fit for Santa Claus himself. A clear screen creates a bubble around the top and a small projector is ready to go at the press of a button. “This is the Alpine’s virtual sleigh ride! Hop in with the whole family for a beautiful scenic tour of the Montana countryside surrounding Hollyridge.”

  The guests clap and murmur. My little helper steps forward, examining the gleaming glossy veneer. He meets my eye.

  “Is this…Santa’s sleigh?” His voice is hushed in awe.

  I give him a bright smile. “That’s right. He’s letting us borrow it until Christmas.”

  “Wow,” he says.

  “Ready to help me take it for a spin?”

  “Yes!” He jumps up and down, his hair flopping across his forehead.

  Turning back to my phone, I ask, “How about our online viewers, are you excited to see what this can do?” I pause and feel a relief pour through me when the comments scroll. It all seems positive. “Great! Let’s hop in and see if we can hear the sleigh bells jingling.”

  I slide onto the plush seat cushion first, followed by the little boy as his mother helps him climb up.

  “Okay, push that big button,” I say.

  My helper vibrates with excitement for the importance of his job. He smacks his hand down on the button, making me laugh. I adjust the phone so the livestream can see what’s happening as the screen lights up.

  The sleigh has state of the art graphics technology to allow for a see-through screen from the outside, but a crisp picture inside. It steals my breath when the drone makes its first swoop from the mountaintop, following the flight of a hawk and soaring over a herd of elk. The view is stunning.

  “Whoa,” the little boy gasps beside me when we tail a snowboarder down one of the Alpine’s ski runs.

  Pride glows like an ember in my chest as we are taken on a virtual experience unlike any other, ending our ride in the quaint town square. When the video ends, we hop out of the sleigh.

  “What did you think?” I ask the boy.

  “So cool! When we went like whoosh and flew so high over the trees, I liked that part best.”

  “Thanks for helping me, dude. High five.” He hits his hand against mine and I turn back to my phone. “Book your stay today at the Alpine Mountain Resort in Hollyridge to enjoy our newest attraction. Thanks for joining us live!”

  After I sign off and put my phone away, I catch sight of Finn. Riley and the other guy have disappeared, but Finn lurks at the edge of the patio.

  He looks pissed. More furious than I’ve ever seen him. The intense scowl has me falling back a step.

  A tug on my sweater dress draws my attention. My little helper points to the sleigh.

  “Can we go again?”

  I give him a soft smile. “Yeah, bud. You can go as many times as you want.”

  With an eager sound, he takes off to grab his mom’s hand.

  When I look up to find Finn, he’s gone. An uneasy knot twists in my stomach, but I ignore it. This is what it takes to achieve my goals. That’s what is important to focus on right now, not my gruff neighbor and his opinion on anything I do.

  Like total party animals, Riley and I are hanging out in my room at the Alpine Friday night.

  “Want to have a holiday movie marathon?” I suggest from my sprawl on the bed. Riley is in one of the faux fur chairs, angled toward the bed with her feet crossed at the ankle on the mattress. “Romcoms or classics or cartoons?”

  Riley snorts. “Girl, I don’t know anyone that loves the holiday season as much as you do. Not even Grams Mayberry is as dedicated as you, and she’s like our queen of Christmas around here. No. We are not spending our Friday night off watching movies holed up in your room. Especially not Christmas movies.”

  A gasp drops from my lips as I scramble to sit up. “What! But they’re the best! They have all the feels, Riley.”

  “They’re so cheesy.” She shrugs. “Unless it’s like Die Hard, I’m not a fan.”

  I drop back to the bed, moaning in horror, then prop on my elbows. “Dude. These are the only holiday memories I have. I love them. I even watch them when it’s not winter.”

  “Wait, seriously?” Riley stares at me. After considering me, she hums. “I guess The Grinch Who Stole Christmas isn’t so bad. The Grinch is a mood.”

  “You’re a Scrooge,” I say. “Holiday movies are the perfect movie. No matter how lonely or sad or depressed you are, they’re like a big hug. When your family is divorced and too focused on themselves year-round, they’re all you have.”

  With a stricken expression, Riley climbs onto the bed and pulls me into a hug. “Okay, damn. Come here, we’ll hug it out. But I still don’t want to watch holiday movies.”

  “Fine, as long as you refrain from harshing my holiday-loving vibe in the fu
ture.”

  “Deal.”

  I shift around to face her, leaning my head on my hand. “So who was that guy in the lobby yesterday?”

  “That was West,” Riley says. “He and Finn were there to pick me up. We all grew up together and have been friends since we were kids.”

  “Friends? That’s not what the pining look on your face says,” I tease. “Are you crushing on him? He’s cute! Those dimples.”

  She snorts as I fan myself dramatically. “No, we’ve, uh.” She shakes her head as a complicated expression contorts her pretty features. “No. We’re just friends.”

  Before I can prod her for more, my phone rings. Dad pops up on the caller ID. “Hang on. I’ve gotta get this.” I scoot to the edge of the bed and answer. “Hi Dad.”

  “Freya.” His voice is gruff and crackles with mucus. That means it’s not a good day with his health. A spike of worry wedges into my gut. I open my mouth to ask if he’s okay, but he recovers and snaps over the line. “You’ve been out at the Montana property for over a month. I’m calling for a report.”

  I hold back a sigh. Dad is always all business, no time for fluff. Or family affection. No hi, honey, how are you or I miss you conversations.

  “I’ve been sending my reports weekly since I took over management.”

  Tension settles in my shoulders and I get up to pace. It’s one of the anxious habits I can’t kick whenever I’m on the phone with Dad. It helps focus me, keeping my nerves from spiraling.

  “I want to hear it from you. I saw the online event yesterday and I wasn’t impressed.”

  “I—Dad, it’s—”

  “The brand isn’t about fluff, Freya. You either do it according to the guidelines or you don’t do it at all. I can’t have different properties offering surprises like this.”

  The pressure of my emotions sear my throat. Damn it. I will not cry because of him. I thought I burned that out of myself years ago.

  Maybe it’s because this is the first time I don’t have a safety net, the first I’ve been allowed full control to do things my way, with my ideas for what makes a fun and modern experience for resort guests.

  “Dad, it was a hit. Bookings jumped five percent overnight.”

  “I don’t care. That’s not sustainable. It’s the shiny effect. You showed off something new, and people want it. Will you keep offering new things when you have none?”

  “But my marketing plan—”

  “Damn it, Freya. It’s always like this with you. Always so frivolous and scattered in your ideas when you should only be focused on overseeing things.” He breaks off into a hacking cough. After he catches his breath, he continues. “And what’s this fucking reality TV competition you’re in? I sent you to Montana to manage the resort, not as a vacation.”

  “Yes sir,” I murmur tightly.

  “Maybe this was too much for you to handle. If you’re not up to the task, I’ll send someone else. Someone I trust.”

  The call ends before I can respond. He doesn’t even say goodbye, just hangs up. Everything is on his time and his dime.

  I blow out a heavy breath and press my forehead to the cool window, peering out through blurry vision. I thought I was doing everything right. This is a wake up call that I need to win the competition more than ever to make Dad understand what he can’t see.

  “You okay?”

  I jump at Riley’s question, forgetting I wasn’t alone. My voice comes out hoarse when I answer. “Yeah. Peachy.”

  Peachy fuckin’ keen, Finn’s voice echoes in my head. I swallow past the lump and swipe my tears away.

  “All right doom and gloom. That’s it, we’re going out.”

  “I don’t know, I think I might go to bed early. I have a lot of work to do.”

  “Nope.” Riley goes to my closet and pulls out the red leather pants I wore for the first Jingle Wars filming. “We’re going to cheer you up. Time to let loose. Your depression buster medicine might be feel-good movies, but mine is dancing it out.” Spinning to face me while she holds one of my lowcut sweaters against her chest, she grins. “Are you going to hole up or come with me?”

  Reluctantly, I smile, taking the sweater. “Going with you.”

  “Atta girl.” Riley smacks my backside and nudges me to the bathroom. “Go get sexy as hell. We’re going all out tonight.”

  As soon as I set sight on Moose’s, the bar Riley pulled up to, I love it. The sign is lit with galvanized pendant lamps and inside it’s like an old world western saloon. It’s lively with music, people dancing on the worn floor, and a glorious mechanical bull in one corner.

  “Oh my god,” I gush. “This is amazing.”

  “This is where everyone in town goes to have fun,” Riley says, waving to people she knows.

  “Riles! Get your cute lil’ butt over here, girl,” a weathered woman calls from behind the bar. Another girl closer to our age and covered in tattoos is working beside her, talking to the patrons on the stools at the bar. “Been too long.”

  “Sorry Miss May, I’ve been busy with work and keeping this one company.” Riley nods to me with a smirk. “This is Freya. She’s new to Hollyridge and owns the Alpine.”

  “That fancy place you teach art and skiing at?” May asks as she pours a beer from the tap in a mason jar. Once she’s done, she leans an elbow on the bar and plops the fresh drink in front of Riley. “Welcome to town, Freya. How come you took so long to stop in to say hello?”

  I blink in surprise. “Um. No reason. I’m sorry.”

  May grins. She’s missing a tooth, but her smile is warm and welcoming. It’s comforting and I find myself returning her smile.

  “Just be sure you realize the error of your ways and come see me every Friday from now on.”

  “Of course,” I say. “I hear it’s the place to be.”

  “May isn’t kidding.” Riley sips her beer as May hands me a drink across the bartop. “She’ll come hunt you down if you stay away too long.”

  May laughs and moves down the bar to see to a man with a scraggly salt and pepper beard.

  “Thanks for taking me out.” I clink my beer with Riley’s. “This is great.”

  “Damn right.”

  Riley immediately gets pulled into two conversations back to back with other locals, introducing me to one of the oldest residents in Hollyridge and a girl she went to school with.

  Everyone is friendly at Moose’s. I’ve never felt so accepted in my life. It’s almost enough to knock me back on my ass in overwhelming relief, but I’d rather take that mechanical bull in the corner by its horns. Actually, on closer inspection those horns are moose horns. The mechanical bull is a mechanical moose.

  Riley was right about coming out. I need to dance it out and let loose rather than wallowing in misery by myself. It’s something I need to work on—learning to accept that it’s ok to lean on others for help rather than doing everything on my own.

  I slam my empty mason jar on the bar not long after we arrived. “Let’s dance!”

  “Hell yes!”

  Riley follows me, rolling her body in a side shuffle as we move to the dance floor. Before long, our hips are moving and our hands are up, clapping on the beat. Riley dances better than I can, but I keep up with her, rolling my hips in sensual sways.

  A laugh drops from my lips as I spin and dip, sticking my ass out. When I come up, a familiar face in the door makes me pause.

  Finn.

  “Shots,” I announce and Riley cheers. She takes my hand and leads me back to the bar. I press up on my tiptoes. “Miss May? Can we get two shots of tequila please.”

  Finn and his friend West are watching us. Finn looked annoyed when he walked in, but now at the other end of the bar, they sneak intense looks our way. Those guys must think they’re being surreptitious, but the art of subtlety is lost on both of them. They might as well have binoculars for how often their gazes flick our way as Riley and I down our shots.

  Well, he can look all he wants. I’m determined to ha
ve a good time tonight.

  As if this week could get any worse.

  Well, that’s what I said before I walked into Moose’s for some beers with the guys and saw Freya and Riley on the dance floor laughing and singing with each other. My enthusiasm for guys night was promptly replaced with irritation at the sight of my painstakingly beautiful rival. Freya’s eyes locked with my own the second I stepped foot through the door.

  Every time her hips swayed with the beat, I grew more annoyed and more horny by the second. It seems like every place I go, somehow Freya ends up there as well. That’s the problem with small towns.

  So, you can understand why I’m in a sour mood the second my ass hits the barstool, and it’s all downhill from there.

  “Fuck, Riley’s here.” West groans when he finally drags his eyes from Aria and spots Riley perched on her stool next to Freya.

  The history between those two is so long and complicated that it would take me an entire case of beer to explain and even then we would only be scratching the surface. I like Riley, she's cool. Her spunky "take no shit" attitude is everything that West can't handle. The dynamic between them is hilarious, but for the most part I stay far away from that shit. I listen when my dude needs an ear, but other than that I'm out.

  "Maybe she won't notice you." I grin and signal the bartender over, only to realize she's the same girl from the other night when we were here. Except, Riley already has.

  "Damn it. This is not going to end well," West hisses once Aria approaches.

  She's the total and complete opposite of West's type. Short, dark hair, tattoos up and down both arms, a piercing in her nose and lips. West has a more reserved...type. Don't get me wrong, she's hot as shit and I can see why he's giving her fuck me eyes from next to me at the bar, but with Riley just across the room? He's insane.

  "Dude, you better figure your shit out. Also, Riley just spotted you and she looks like she may actually kill you."

  His eyes go wide and then Riley is hopping off her barstool, drink in hand, accompanied by the siren herself, headed our way.