Book Read Free

Rudy and Kris

Page 1

by Elle Rush




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Blurb

  Copyright © 2019

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Interlude

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Check out other North Pole Unlimited romances

  Bonus Recipe – Chocolate Chip Cherry Coconut Cookies

  Sneak Peek at DOCTOR MILLIONAIRE

  More from Elle Rush

  RUDY AND KRIS

  A North Pole Unlimited Romance

  By

  Elle Rush

  Blurb

  Second chances, new romances, and disappearing Secret Santas.

  Baker Kris Singleton’s hands are full as she covers for her sick aunt at the family bakery. Then she’s asked to take her place on a local children’s Christmas party committee. Kris has no time for a romance with a former beau who’s decided it’s time to make up for missed opportunities.

  Party chairman Rudy Gillespie knows if he can get Kris’s attention again, she’ll realize they were always meant to be together. When his plans for the holiday event of the season fall apart, he desperately needs her help to save it from utter disaster.

  Can two mismatched elves come together to save Christmas? Only Santa knows.

  Copyright © 2019

  Copyright and published by Deidre Gould

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, places, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Last week of September

  North Pole Unlimited Headquarters

  December, Manitoba, Canada (25 kilometres southeast of Winnipeg)

  Hoots of laughter erupted from the boardroom. Nick Klassen looked at his executive assistant, Jilly Lewis. “We’re five minutes late for the meeting, and the inmates have taken over the asylum.”

  Jilly quirked an eyebrow in response. “Are you surprised?”

  “Not really.” He knew how the stress of the season affected North Pole Unlimited’s staff as they approached their busiest time of the year. Letting them blow off some steam now was good for everyone. As if to prove his point, as soon as they saw him, the mob in the boardroom wrapped up conversations and refilled coffee mugs before they retook their seats. Nick took his chair at the far end of the room, while his cousin, and current company president, North Santana presided from the head of the large, oval table.

  “Okay, people, we have a ton to get through today, so let’s get to it. It’s catalogue finalization day! Again!” North said with half-faked enthusiasm.

  Nick was the only person in the room who didn’t groan. The company’s Christmas catalogue was a huge deal. Planning for it started in February. With less than two months till launch time, they were busy confirming the details. Well, the others were. As VP of Human Resources, he didn’t have to worry about filling a section of NPU’s digitally-offered selections with products. All he had to do was keep the other departments staffed and on track so they could do the job.

  That’s when they lost control of the meeting. “Graham, where do we stand with getting Totally Iced back on board? I noticed their contract wasn’t renewed after last season. They are coming back, right?” Jilly demanded.

  The stout man sitting across from security chief Decker Harkness gulped audibly. Graham Smith combed his fingers through his thinning hair. He ran the Foodservices division, and the Christmas catalogue was heavily weighted with holiday treats. It was Graham’s job to ensure North Pole Unlimited had a variety of new edible goodies and old favourites every year. “Actually—” he started to say.

  “Actually what? Totally Iced has a chocolate meringue that makes my toes tingle. I order them every Christmas as a present to myself,” Jilly said.

  Graham gulped again. “As you know, when Sean Fitzwilliam left, that ball got dropped. By the time we got Rudy Gillespie in place, it was too late. We’re hoping to have them back for next year’s catalogue, but for now, I’m afraid...”

  “You should be afraid,” Jilly muttered loud enough for Nick to hear.

  “I’m sure our man in Calgary can take care of signing them for next year,” Graham promised.

  “Moving on,” North prompted. She addressed the VP of the toy division. “Gabe, how comes the pre-school toy line?”

  Nick chuckled. Jilly wouldn’t get distracted. She was on a chocolate quest. She’d worked for him for three years, and he had yet to take a single candy from the jar on her desk. He valued his fingers too much.

  Graham bolted from the board room the second the meeting was adjourned. Jilly didn’t have a chance to corner him. “Leave the man alone. He’s doing his best. We’ll get you chocolate from somewhere else,” Nick said.

  “First, no. Nothing compares to Totally Iced,” Jilly said. “Second, I’m not saying Graham isn’t doing his best, but if he needs help getting them back under the North Pole Unlimited umbrella, I won’t let a fellow employee struggle with that alone.”

  Nick shook his head.

  They were in so much trouble.

  But not as much as the poor people in Alberta.

  Chapter 1

  Kris

  First week of November

  Calgary, Alberta, Canada

  The weather outside was frigid, but the heat coming off all the ovens in the Totally Iced Bakery was even worse. Kris Singleton propped open the back door and hoped the convergence of tropical and arctic air wouldn’t create a snowstorm in her kitchen.

  When the kitchen temperature dropped enough to match to the surface of the sun, Kris got back to work. The morning’s cinnamon buns were cooling on the rack. Now she had fruitcakes to make. A bowl of rum-soaked raisins, currants, and cherries sat on the island which dominated the center of her workspace. A variety of stainless-steel bowls waited beside the scale on the countertop, and a copy of her grandmother’s recipe sat in the clip-beak of a lopsided, yellow ducky card holder.

  “I can’t believe you’re making fruitcake. Does anyone actually eat it?” Marie asked.

  “Miss Hauser, are you doubting my skills?” Kris countered, disbelief in her voice.

  “I thought fruitcake was something you gave to people you don’t like,” the blonde assistant baker said. She ducked the swat Kris threw her way.

  Kris burst into laughter. “I can’t believe you said that.” Nobody dissed her grandma’s Caribbean fruitcake, especially once they tried it. This was Marie’s second year working at the bakery; she ought to know better. “Didn’t my aunt send one home with you last year? What happened to it?”

  “I gave it to my landlord.” Marie brushed her cheek with the back of her wrist, leaving a floury smudge on her face. “He said he liked it,” she added in consolation.

  “You’re definitely eating a slice this year if you want your Christmas bonus,” Kris said. “Once
you admit you were completely wrong about my amazing family recipe, I expect you to give away samples and convert at least five customers.”

  “Convert them to the cult of Kris’s grandmother’s fruitcake?”

  “Yes. It’s a very tasty cult. I’m its supreme leader and head cheerleader.”

  “You’re a nut, boss.”

  “Nuts!” Kris had forgotten the walnuts. Fortunately, she had some on hand. The kitchen had everything a baker could ever want. Totally Iced had been her Aunt Vivian’s baby since she’d opened the bakery sixteen years earlier, when she’d moved to Calgary.

  Kris had only come on board in the last six months. She’d barely gotten her feet under her before the biggest push of the year started. People couldn’t get enough of their Christmas dainties. The bakery began gearing up at the beginning of November and the rush lasted to the end of December. All holidays were great for sales, but the Christmas season was extra busy and, for Kris, extra fun. She got to pull out all the seasonal recipes that went into hibernation for ten months of the year. The cookies. The slices.

  And the fruitcakes.

  The front half of Totally Iced, with its glass display cases and twin bistro tables, didn’t open for another hour. It gave her and Marie enough time to weigh ingredients, mix batter, and get the first batch of fruitcakes into the oven. When the last pan slid onto the rack, and she gently closed the heavy, stainless-steel door, Kris broke into a smile. Fruitcake meant Christmas was well and truly on its way.

  When the doors opened in time to catch the on-the-way-to-work breakfast crowd, Kris took a break from the kitchen to work the counter.

  This morning was the busiest of the week, mostly because it was Two-for-One Cinnamon Bun Tuesday. Half the morning’s buns were reserved for local food trucks, but the rest were for their customers. Kris attacked the sugar-addicted horde one person at a time.

  “Will you be coming to the party?” she asked a regular who was picking up a birthday cake for her daughter. Kris pointed at the poster in the window, a large white announcement framed in gold and silver garland. The North Calgary Christmas party was the children’s event for the area, and Totally Iced was one of the sponsors.

  “We’re already registered,” was the quick response.

  Kris kept working the line. She didn’t notice the black-haired man in the red parka until he stepped to the counter. “Good morning.”

  “Oh. It’s you.” She kept her voice flat and fought to keep a smile off her lips.

  Rudy Gillespie never missed Two-for-One Cinnamon Bun Tuesday. Or any other day for that matter. He was her best and most loyal customer, but she’d known him long before the first time she saw him stroll through the front door. Years ago, they’d been students at the same college in Toronto. Eight years later, much to both their surprise, he’d walked into Totally Iced in Calgary.

  “Kris, you look stunning. As always.”

  She was well aware of how she looked. After four hours in a hot kitchen, washing her face in the bathroom and doing a quick make-up reapplication before facing customers could only do so much. Kris’s fluffy black ponytail was restrained by a fluorescent pink hair net, which did no favours to her peachy-brown complexion. Her apron was covered in flour and smears from candied fruit, which made it look like she’d spilled a syrup bottle over herself. If beauty was in the eye of the beholder, Rudy needed glasses.

  “What can I do for you today, Rudy?”

  “A coffee and two cinnamon buns, please.”

  As she turned to fill his order, Kris caught the smirk he shot to Marie. “Is there something I should know?”

  “No, boss.”

  He lingered after she gave him his change. “You know, coming in every day to ask me out won’t change my answer,” she told him. No matter how many times or how prettily he asked. She didn’t date guys on the rebound.

  “I come in because you’re the best baker in Alberta.” He sounded sincere.

  “Flattery like that might work,” Marie said.

  “Maybe the best baker in the whole country,” Rudy amended, to the amusement of the customers still in line.

  Marie reached across the counter and high-fived him.

  “Traitor,” Kris whispered at her.

  “On the drive here, I heard Arrowhead announced a concert date in Calgary. That’s the band you always have playing in the back, right?”

  “Not always.” She played other bands. Rarely. “But, yes, they’re coming to town in the new year.”

  “Are you going?”

  “I wish. I wasn’t able to get tickets.” The band sold out the Saddledome in a matter of minutes.

  “I happen to know a guy who was able to get his hands on a couple tickets. Of course, I’ll be using one, but I have a spare. If only I knew somebody else who wanted to go,” he said with a sigh. Rudy didn’t look her in the eye. He focused all his concentration on his coffee.

  Kris had been talking about her dismal lack of ticket luck the day before with Marie. They’d been the only two people in the building. She whirled, shaking her finger in the assistant baker’s face. “J’accuse! You’re collaborating with him against me.”

  “What can I say, boss? One of you can help me get the year’s number one toy for my niece, and the other is you.” Marie slapped Rudy’s upraised hand again.

  “Nice try, Rudy, but no,” Kris said. Although it was the most tempting offer he’d made to date. Not that she needed bribes to go out with him. The desire to say yes was already there. It was the other reasons.

  “Okay. I’ll keep asking around. Let me know if you change your mind. If it’s not too late,” he added. He grabbed the white paper bag containing his cinnamon buns and toasted her and Marie with his coffee. “My spare, sixth-row ticket and I will see you tomorrow,” he said on his way out the door.

  The rest of the people flowed through the store quickly after their main source of entertainment left. When it emptied, Kris advanced on Marie. “You’ve been feeding Rudy ideas on how to get me to say yes?”

  “He’s a good guy.”

  “He is,” Kris agreed.

  “And, technically, no, I haven’t been giving ideas to Rudy, although they seem to get to him eventually. What’s your problem with him anyway?”

  “His taste in women.”

  The bell over the door jingled and Vivian Singleton strode in like she owned the joint. Which she did. Her aunt’s heart attack in the summer had taken her out of the shop and put her on bed rest. Kris had agreed to manage Totally Iced’s day-to-day operations until she was back on her feet. The doctor told Vivian she needed to cut back on stress and exertion; since Kris was between jobs, it was perfect timing. If Kris got the bakery through the Christmas season, her aunt planned to take back the reins in the new year.

  Vivian had more grey in her hair than she’d had a year ago—streaks running from her temple to the sparse bun at the back of her head. “How are we doing, girls?”

  “Great, Aunt Viv. Today’s cinnamon buns are ready for the food truck pick-ups, and the fruitcakes are in the oven. Next up is—”

  “Gingerbread,” her aunt said. “I’m glad you’re keeping to my schedule. I was hoping you’d need a hand with the decorating.”

  “The doctor said—”

  “The doctor said no stress. Putting frosting and sprinkles on cookies is the opposite of stressful. I’ll be back after lunch,” Vivian interrupted again.

  Kris knew her aunt was going stir-crazy. It had been bad enough over the summer when she puttered around the yard, but now that was under six inches of snow. “Okay, we’ll see you then.”

  Now that she was done with Kris, Vivian turned to Marie. “How is my niece’s suitor doing?”

  “He offered to take her to a concert, but she turned him down,” Marie snitched.

  “Why did you say no?” her aunt demanded.

  Kris wondered exactly how many people Marie had been talking to. “Because I don’t want to start something I won’t be around to see
through,” she explained, and it was part of the truth. “Rudy’s a great guy. He deserves somebody who can appreciate that long term, and I don’t have the time to be that person.” She didn’t know how long it would take him to get over his ex, but it was longer than she had left in Calgary. It was a shame; she liked him.

  “We’ll have to work on your attitude. And your love life,” her aunt said.

  “Yes, we will,” Marie agreed.

  “No, it’s okay,” Kris protested.

  “Don’t worry, Kris, we’re happy to help.”

  That’s what worried her.

  Chapter 2

  Rudy

  The cinnamon bun was worth adding twenty minutes to his morning commute. To be honest, seeing Kris was worth the twenty minutes on her own. The delicious morning treat was only extra incentive.

  He handed the bag and remaining bun to his second-in-command. “You owe me.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m the one who gave you the tip about the Arrowhead tickets.” Tucker Abraham ripped the white bag down the side and transferred the cinnamon bun to a plate. Then he began cutting it into bite-sized pieces with a knife and fork.

  “What are you doing? Eating with the Queen?” Rudy asked.

  “I’m savouring, not stuffing it in my mouth one-handed while I’m driving.” To emphasize his point, Tucker speared a particularly gooey piece loaded with raisins and put it in his mouth. “Mmm mmm good,” he said as he chewed it, staring directly at Rudy.

  Maybe his assistant had the right idea—making the sweet bun last like that. Now Rudy regretted rushing through his. “See if I ever bring you another one.”

  When Rudy had first arrived at the North Pole Unlimited western Canadian hub, Tucker had been on the verge of a medical leave. His original boss, Sean Fitzwilliam, had gone to Las Vegas and never returned after winning a slot machine jackpot. Tucker had been trying to do his job and cover the manager’s duties at the same time. Rudy transferred in three weeks later, and his first act had been to order Tucker to take a much-needed four-day weekend.

 

‹ Prev