Their Yuletide Promise

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Their Yuletide Promise Page 7

by Stacy Connelly


  Chapter Six

  Another step in her plan.

  By the following morning, Evie had regained her perspective when it came to her “relationship” with Griffin. Over several cups of strong black coffee, she’d researched the new James hotel in Dubai. The building was a modern marvel, attracting worldwide attention with its futuristic architecture, cutting-edge design and first-class amenities—from a stunning marina to equestrian facilities, to private butler service. All further cementing her confidence that Griffin couldn’t possibly be interested in Hillcrest House.

  She was doing the right thing in following the path to success her aunt had set out for her. Family, friends, fun, falling in love. Okay, not everything had gone according to plan, but she could adapt. Griffin would be the perfect date for Chance and Alexa’s Christmas Eve wedding along with the gala on New Year’s Eve. All she had to do was find a way to keep her attraction to Griffin under control for five more days and to remember that he was simply another box to be marked off on her to-do list.

  Not that she was actually going to do Griffin James. She was just—

  “Ugh!”

  Frustrated, Evie pressed her hands against her temples as if she could squeeze out the riot of images assailing her, from Griffin’s too-sexy smile to the annoying, aggravating, arousing way he had of stealing into her thoughts. She’d barely slept a wink the previous night, tossing and turning as she relived the nothing of a kiss that had almost had her begging for more.

  “Computer problems again?”

  “What?” Evie blinked at Trisha Katzman. She’d been so caught up in not thinking about Griffin, she hadn’t noticed the other woman ducking her head inside the office door.

  Trisha had been her aunt’s right-hand woman and, at first, had resented the cousins’ presence. But Trisha’s attitude had improved as Rory had once again shown her ability to reach even the most resistant of people, convincing Evie to offer the woman added responsibility and increasing confidence in her role at Hillcrest House.

  “I can call for service if we need a tech to take a look,” Trisha offered.

  As much as she would have liked to blame technology for her current problem, Evie shook her head. “No, the computer’s fine. I’m afraid the problem is user error.”

  “You do seem a bit...distracted. Maybe you should take a break.”

  “A break?” Evie never took breaks. She was the one who covered for other people, who filled in when employees called in sick. “No, I’m fine. I just need to focus.”

  There. Another F-word to add to her plan. Proving to her aunt that she had a life outside work was all fine and dandy, but when she was at work, Hillcrest needed to be her top priority.

  “Well, maybe these will pick you up.” Stepping farther into the doorway, Trisha held out an enormous floral array boasting an unusual mix of fragrant wildflowers and a few familiar leafy green stems with papery bright fuchsia blossoms.

  “Those are gorgeous.” Evie didn’t think she’d seen bougainvillea in an arrangement before. “But I didn’t order any additional flowers.”

  Thanks to Rory, the hotel was overflowing with an abundance of holiday decorations, including small pine trees and vibrant red poinsettias on every flat surface. Extra flowers were the last thing Hillcrest House needed.

  Trisha grinned as she set the cut-glass vase on Evie’s desk. “These aren’t for the hotel. They’re for you.”

  “For me?” Evie asked in surprise.

  “Aren’t you going to see who they’re from?”

  “I’ll check the card later.” Later when she didn’t have an eager audience. Later when she could let herself smile like the fool she likely was over the ridiculousness of Griffin James sending her flowers.

  “Let me guess,” Trisha teased. “From The Wild Rose?”

  Evie had never been a huge fan of the floral names for the guest rooms. The incongruity of Griffin as a wild rose did nothing to lessen her mortification. She’d realized she wouldn’t be able to keep her relationship with Griffin a secret from the employees. But she was Hillcrest’s CFO, someone who was supposed to set an example, not some celebrity whose newest hookup was the subject for tabloid fodder.

  She opened her mouth, ready to snap that Trisha had better things to do than speculate over Evie’s love life, when Griffin’s mellow voice seemed to whisper in her ear.

  Everyone has a story.

  Evie knew little about her employees’ lives. But as Trisha reached out to run her fingers across the soft petals of a bright yellow gerbera daisy, Evie couldn’t help wondering. How long it had been since the other woman had received flowers? Was it really so bad for her to want to live vicariously through Evie’s relationship?

  “Look, Trisha, Griffin James is...” Evie wasn’t sure she had the vocabulary to describe the man, so she settled for what was relevant. “He’s a Hillcrest guest, so I would appreciate it if you—”

  The redhead held up a hand. “Say no more.” Miming turning a key at her lips, she vowed, “Mum’s the word.”

  Trisha made the promise just in time as Rory stepped into the office. “Nice flowers. Very unusual.”

  Her cousin cocked a questioning eyebrow at Evie, but before she could respond, Trisha chimed in. “They are, aren’t they? Nina’s trying out some new arrangements and wanted to see what Evie thought.”

  Trisha shot her a conspirator’s wink from behind Rory’s back before she backed out of the office, and Evie couldn’t help but grin. She knew she had a reputation as a tough boss, and that conversation could have gone in a completely different direction, but she thought she’d handled it well.

  She glanced at the flower arrangement.

  All thanks to Griffin.

  “I got a call from Sally,” Rory said as she settled into the chair across from Evie’s desk. “She said you haven’t been in to try on your bridesmaid’s dress yet.”

  “I gave her my size. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “Evie.” A chiding note entered her cousin’s voice. “It’s a bridesmaid’s dress. You don’t want it looking like something you bought off the rack. We have Sally on standby in case she has to alter Alexa’s gown—again—to accommodate the baby on board. I don’t want her to have to scramble to fit you in as well, during the holiday rush.”

  Rory had been after Evie to stop by the dress shop for weeks. If she kept making excuses, her cousin would know why. But she couldn’t let this be about her own nonwedding. Five minutes to try on the dress, and she could mark the task off her to-do list. “Fine, I’ll go later today.”

  “Thank you.” After a pause, Rory leaned forward and added, “I want to apologize for yesterday. I know I came down kind of hard about Griffin and his family’s interest in the hotel...but it’s not just the hotel I’m worried about. You haven’t even dated in months, and now to jump into a relationship with a man like Griffin James? You’re moving so fast. Rushing into this with your heart instead of your head...”

  Just like you did with Eric.

  Evie had rushed into that relationship. And she had ignored her cousins’ warnings, their advice, their concern... Feeling like they were forcing her to choose between them and the man she loved, Evie had chosen Eric. A decision that had driven a wedge between her and her cousins that lingered to this day.

  It was a distance that had started to close as they’d worked together at the hotel; and one Evie hoped to erase by convincing her aunt not to sell the tangible link that held them all together.

  Her faux relationship with Griffin was supposed to be helping in that endeavor, not driving a deeper wedge. What was that expression about needing to stop digging once you were already in over your head? And yet she heard herself say, “Griffin isn’t Eric. And I’m not the same foolish girl I was two years ago.”

  “You weren’t foolish. You were in love. You deserve to be in love, and if y
ou don’t think Griffin is that man—”

  “Not everyone falls in love at first sight, Rory. Griffin and I are...having fun.” Evie resisted the urge to duck, certain lighting might strike any moment. But as the atmosphere above her desk remained clear, she realized the words weren’t a complete fabrication.

  How many times that morning had she found herself fighting a smile as she thought of Griffin’s audacity when he stepped out of the bathroom and greeted her aunt wearing nothing more than a hand towel and a smile? Okay, so she’d been horrified at the time, but how better to show her aunt that Evie had a life and a man of her own?

  “Fun?” Rory echoed as if she were the one who’d never heard the word before.

  Fighting that smile again, Evie said, “Yeah, fun.”

  Griffin was a means to an end, and as long as she kept that in mind, she’d survive these next few weeks. She’d convince her aunt that she could have a life and Hillcrest House, too, and Griffin would go back to Dubai or some other faraway, exotic locale. She’d keep up the pretense of the relationship for a little while after he left, and then they’d call it quits, the long distance too much to overcome.

  She had a plan, and her plans always worked as long as she stayed the course.

  Bolstered by the internal pep talk, Evie ignored the mocking voice reminding her that Griffin James was hardly one to follow the rules.

  * * *

  Griffin stepped into his suite following a morning run on the beach to the sound of his phone vibrating on the coffee table. The muscles that had started to ease into a relaxed state of exhaustion instantly tightened at the sound.

  Running his hands through his damp hair, he glared at the phone. He’d been ignoring his father’s almost constant calls since he arrived in Clearville and was tempted to avoid this one, as well. He didn’t want anything to distract from his thoughts of Evie. What were his chances of sharing that kiss he’d promised her the next time they met?

  He’d looked for her in the lobby that morning, but her office door had been closed. He wondered if she received the flowers and what she thought of his special request to add the bougainvillea to the arrangement. The more time they spent together, the more she reminded him of the beautiful but prickly plant.

  The combination intrigued him, but he needed to take care and remember that Evie had those thorns for a reason. In working his way past her defenses, he had seen more and more of the vulnerability she fought to hide and figured she’d been hurt badly enough to build up that sharp-witted defense.

  After wiping his sweaty forehead against the sleeve of his sweatshirt, he reached for the phone. If he didn’t answer, the damn thing would continue to buzz and he might as well get the status report over with.

  “What’s the latest on Hillcrest House?” Frederick James demanded by way of greeting.

  Another time, his father’s single-minded focus on business would have spiked an all too familiar surge of resentment. But at the moment, the straight-to-the-point attitude suited Griffin. “Status quo. I told you before, the cousins aren’t interested in selling.”

  Walking over to the refrigerator in the tiny kitchenette, he pulled out a sports drink and cracked the lid off the cold plastic bottle. He took a large swallow, the orange-flavored liquid tart against his tongue.

  “But they aren’t the ones making the decision, right?” his father was saying. “Their aunt owns the hotel.”

  “She does, but I don’t get the impression she’s all that involved in the business.” A sound came across the line—a half snort, half choke. “You all right, Dad?”

  Clearing his throat, Frederick sounded far more like himself as he barked out, “Fine. Fine. But what makes you think Evelyn—Ms. McClaren—is no longer the one in charge?”

  “Yesterday was the first time I’ve seen her around the hotel. I get the feeling she’s looking to hand over the reins to her nieces.” And Evie was raring to grab hold. “Maybe she’s ready to retire.”

  “Retire!” His father bounced the word back like a hundred-mile-an-hour volley. “That’s ridiculous. That doesn’t sound like the woman I—I remember at all.”

  “Wait...” Pieces started to fall into place and Griffin thought he was getting a better picture of why his father was so interested in the hotel. He set his drink on the small dining room table. “I get it now. She’s the one that got away, isn’t she?”

  Silence filled the end of the line for so long that Griffin thought they’d been disconnected. “Dad? You still there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “So am I right? Is Hillcrest House the one that got away? The one deal you couldn’t close?”

  “It was—it was a long time ago, but yes, that’s certainly one way to put it,” Frederick mused. “The one who got away.”

  Griffin gave a small laugh as his steps carried him across the small suite. He never would have imagined his father as the sentimental type. Frederick James was more “take charge” and “full steam ahead.” Looking back—or even slowing down—were concepts reserved for the competition he left in the dust.

  “You’re going to have to give up on this one,” Griffin advised as he dropped onto the floral-patterned sofa. “You have no idea how far Evie’s willing to go to hang on to the hotel.” Though he tried to keep his voice matter-of-fact and businesslike, he couldn’t quite keep the hint of amusement from creeping in as he thought of Evie suggesting that he kiss her—just for show, of course. He’d had a hell of a time not giving in, but he meant what he’d told her.

  When he kissed her, there would be nothing pretend about it.

  “Stubborn, is she?” his father asked.

  “You don’t know the half of it. Stubborn and smart...and funny, even though she doesn’t even seem to realize it.” Just as she didn’t seem to realize her own beauty. She wasn’t elegantly beautiful like Alexa or even sweetly pretty like her cousin Rory. No... Evie—Evie had a striking kind of beauty that was truly her own.

  Griffin didn’t know how long he’d been talking before he caught himself. Jeez, he sounded like a teenager suffering in the throes of his first crush. But even as a teenager, he’d never talked to his father about girls. By the time he’d turned fourteen, it seemed that he and his father never talked at all, the silence left behind by his mother’s death too much for either of them to fill.

  “After the wedding...” his father began, and Griffin’s hand clenched around the phone. If Hillcrest fell off his father’s radar, there would be no reason for Griffin to stay in town. No doubt his dad would want him on a plane headed overseas as soon as Alexa and Chance said “I do.”

  “...I think you should stick around Clearville.”

  Griffin blinked, sitting up straight at the last words he expected to hear. “You do?”

  “I know you feel certain that this Evie isn’t interested in selling, but from everything I’ve heard, her aunt is. And if she does...”

  His father’s voice trailed off, and this time Griffin felt like his stomach had taken a plunge off the forty-seventh story of the James Tower in Dubai. He’d sworn to Evie that his father wasn’t interested in Hillcrest House. If she couldn’t convince her aunt not to sell and if his father was the one to buy the hotel—

  Evie would never forgive him. In her eyes, he would have betrayed her in the worst possible way...even though everything else he’d told her was completely true. Hillcrest still didn’t fit the James brand, but if the Victorian was some great white whale from his father’s past, then there was no telling how far Frederick James would go to win it at last.

  “Dad...” Griffin heard the strangled sound of his own voice as the truth lodged in his throat. He was tempted to tell his father everything—about how incredible Evie was, about how much she loved the hotel, about how losing it would destroy her and might ruin him in the process.

  But the very concept of spilling his guts to his
father was so foreign, so unheard-of, that he couldn’t say the words. He didn’t want to pour out his feelings only to have his dad break into his typical speech. The oft repeated and oh-so-tired tirade about how Griffin needed to focus on business, to keep his head in the game, eyes on the prize. His father would never understand that, for the first time in years, Griffin’s head, his eyes, his whole damn body was right where he needed to be.

  Still, for Evie, he had to try. He launched into a litany of all the hotel’s problems—the out-of-the-way locale, the old-fashioned vibe, the slow-paced, small-town feel. Despite his certainty that Hillcrest House wasn’t a fit for their company, he had done his homework. But all the bullet points he listed, all the hotel’s supposed disadvantages, were the very things that made Hillcrest special. That made it as unique and beautiful as Evie...

  “I don’t know what happened before, but you’re not going to have any better luck this time around,” Griffin said finally, hoping his father had listened, really listened, to—hell, to everything he wasn’t saying.

  He should have known better than to expect his father to hear anything at all.

  “Maybe I won’t,” Frederick pointed out. “But maybe this time you will.”

  Chapter Seven

  Evie had never been in A Stitch in Time, the bridal shop on Main Street. Housed in one of the town’s many converted Victorians, the store clung to its romantic past with elegantly posed mannequins draped in satin and lace in the silver-bell-decorated front window.

  While Evie would admit the dresses were gorgeous, she couldn’t get past the impracticality. All the time and money and effort spent on one day. A day that, in her case, had never come. Which might have had something to do with her reluctance to step inside the vanilla-and-rose-scented shop.

  The bell over the door was still tinkling as she heard Sally gush, “Perfect. Just perfect!”

  Standing in the middle of the shop, the woman was not speaking to a blushing bride-to-be, but to a broad-shouldered man in a gorgeous tuxedo. Griffin turned at the sound of the bell, a slow grin forming as he caught sight of her. “Evie, darling, what an unexpected pleasure.”

 

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