The Christmas Fix

by Lucy Score

  She walked around his desk and extended her hand. “Cat King.”

  “Fuck.” He muttered the oath and sidestepped her to dump his messenger bag on the desk.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, too,” Cat said.

  “Look Cat or whatever ‘I’m so sexy’ name you go by for work, why don’t you just do us both a favor and sashay on out of here. I’ve got work to do and none of that involves letting a camera crew victimize my town.”

  “No one is looking to victimize anyone,” Cat argued, hands landing on her hips. “I’m offering you help. Financial and otherwise. Can your town afford to skip Christmas this year?”

  “What Merry can and can’t afford is none of your business.”

  “Well that’s just bullshit,” Cat shot back. “I have friends who live here. Friends who could use a hand putting their lives back together again, and I’m not going to walk away from that.”

  “Then send them a damn gift card and leave me the hell out of it.”

  “I have the resources to get this entire town back on its feet and ready for Christmas. To walk away from that is irresponsible and downright idiotic.”

  “Being a reality TV star, I’d think that would be your life’s mantra.”

  Cat’s eyebrows winged up. So, Mr. Manager wanted to play dirty. Good. She didn’t mind getting dirty.

  “You’re really willing to pass up the opportunity to rebuild and still host your Christmas Festival just because you don’t like me? Is that really in the best interest of your town?”

  “I don’t like what you stand for. Profiting off the misfortune of others? Selling a front row seat to it and then disappearing as soon as the cameras are off? Yeah,” he scoffed. “You shouldn’t be lecturing me on the best interests of others.”

  “You’re behaving like an ass right now.”

  He came around the desk to stand toe-to-toe with her. “Frankly, I don’t care. My town is wading out of the worst natural disaster it’s ever seen. I’m on the phone twenty-four hours a day with insurance companies and the state and concerned citizens who can’t even drink the water yet, let alone go home and start to rebuild. You’ll excuse me if I don’t jump at the chance to add to the circus. We’re a family in Merry, and you and your reality show don’t belong.”

  Cat didn’t back down. She never did. At five-foot-nine, she could be just as imposing as the tall jackass in front of her.

  “I wonder what your neighbors would think if they could hear you turning down help for them? Do you think they’d be so quick to dismiss the offer? Think about it. A show leading up to Christmas Eve and the big reveal of the day Merry came back to life. That kind of publicity doesn’t just go away. Next year, your festival will be even bigger. More tourism dollars, happier residents.”

  Noah’s eyes flashed. “Get out of my office, Cat, and don’t come back.”

  He was backing her toward the door, and Cat let him. She was going to take an extreme amount of pleasure in emotionally eviscerating him in just a few short hours.

  “I have a feeling you’re going to regret this,” she promised with a wide grin.

  “Wanna bet?”

  He slammed the door in her face, and Cat skipped her way downstairs. She was going to grind Noah Yates into a bloody pulp and tap dance on his remains. And then she was going to fix his town.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Noah fought off the encroaching headache with sheer stubbornness. It was already dark, and Sara had called him twice to see if he’d be home for dinner. He blamed Catalina King and her sneak attack on him in his own office for it.

  The woman was a viper. Sniffing around for ratings. It was people like her that he needed to keep Sara away from. His daughter already spent way too much time with fashion magazines and reality TV shows that glamorized pretty over smart and rich over worth.

  He didn’t feel equipped to battle the sexist, demeaning messages Sara and her friends were bombarded with every single day. He had to admit he’d never paid much attention to such things until he held his daughter in his arms. Then everything took on a new meaning.

  He had promised that little pink bundle that he’d make sure she understood she could be anything she wanted to be as long as she was strong, independent, and smart.

  Women like Cat? They were walking self-esteem diminishers. Those long, long legs? All that honey blonde hair? The high cheekbones and the delicate hollows of her face? He could see why she and TV found each other. Technically, she was beautiful. Stunning even. But that was only on the outside. He knew enough about Cat and her industry to keep her far away from Sara.

  Sara. Crap. He looked at his watch.

  He was supposed to be home already. She was helping some of their temporary tenants cook a “flood feast.” The dozen people now taking up residence in their house had emptied their thawed freezers and had been cooking all day.

  He grabbed his phone and his messenger bag.

  Noah: I’m late! I’m sorry! I’m the worst dad in the history of dads. Leaving now and sprinting.

  Sara: *eyeroll* I knew you would be. That’s why I gave you a fake time. Dinner won’t be ready for another half hour.

  Noah: You’re diabolical.

  She responded with a Dr. Evil GIF that had Noah rolling his eyes. At least he had time for his customary evening coffee now. He locked the door to his office and hustled down the stairs. Merry and Bright was a cozy bakery and café that specialized in year-round Christmas desserts and good coffee. Usually he stopped at Reggie’s for his first morning caffeine fix and Merry and Bright in the evenings on his way home.

  Noah headed north. The chill in the air was edging toward frosty. Halloween was two days away, and he’d already canceled trick or treat night and the parade. He had a disappointed town on his hands, but there was no way they’d be able to clean up enough of the mess to clear the parade route, let alone let kids tromp around through half-frozen mud in super hero masks.

  No. Halloween was one holiday Merry would have to give up this year. Most likely it wouldn’t be the only one. Noah hated to think of his town without Christmas, but it was becoming clear that the money and hands they needed for a miracle weren’t going to come fast enough.

  He zipped his fleece against the night chill and raised a hand at the couple that greeted him from their front porch. This side of town had been spared, thankfully. And they’d been more than willing to make room for their less lucky neighbors in guest rooms and living rooms.

  He sighed, his breath coming out in a silvery cloud. He loved this town. He hated being the bearer of bad news, but they needed to know sooner rather than later that there would be no Christmas Festival this year.

  The glow of the café warmed him with a Pavlovian-like response. The smell of fresh cookies and hot coffee greeted Noah as he pushed open the door that always grinded out the first few chords of Jingle Bells.

  “Evenin’, Noah. You’re running late,” Freddy Fawkes, the café’s co-owner greeted him from behind the register. Freddy bore an uncanny resemblance to the lean, ruddy-cheeked Santa Claus that he did his best to maintain. He and his wife, Freida, claimed that the secret to their twenty-seven-year marriage and business partnership was that Freida came in to bake and open the shop by six every morning, and Freddy took over after lunch and worked until closing.

  “Long day,” Noah said, scanning the display case. “Can I get two dozen pecan rolls to go and a coffee?”

  Freddy’s wintery white eyebrows rose. “You must have quite the crowd over there.”

  Noah gave the man a tired smile. “I’m happy we have the room to offer.”

  Freddy puttered around behind the counter readying Noah’s order. He felt a twinge between his shoulder blades. A tickle. A looming shadow of doom.

  He already knew who it was before he turned around.

  “Well, well. We meet again.” Cat smiled that canary-eating grin at him. She was sitting with April Hai, hot chocolates, and a Mer
ry and Bright cookie sampler between them.

  “Hi, Mr. Yates,” April said cheerfully. She was a tiny little thing with stick-straight, jet-black hair handed down from her Japanese and Vietnamese parents. She smiled up at him winningly. “Did you hear the good news?”

  Noah had no desire to hear any good news associated with Cat. He sent the woman a sharp look just to let her know. “No, I didn’t, April. What’s up?”

  “Cat says she’s going to fix my house and the diner and the park so we don’t have to miss Christmas!” April bounced in her chair, fueled by sugar and happiness.

  “Is she now?”

  “Don’t be modest,” April sighed. The kid had the vocabulary of a college senior at a decent university. “She told me it was all your idea. We all knew you’d find a way to fix everything!”

  Just what the hell was he supposed to do now? Tell April that the answer was no and crush her kid-holiday dreams?

  Cat ran her tongue over her teeth and sat there smugly, daring him to say it.

  “Cat says the festival is going to be even bigger this year! Can you believe it?” April bumped the cookie plate in her excitement and nearly sent it flying. “I thought this was going to be the worst thing ever, but it’s going to be superlative!” She jumped out of her chair and hugged Noah around the waist.

  Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

  “I hate you,” he mouthed to Cat, not caring that he was behaving like an immature junior high schooler.

  She blew him a kiss.

  “April, do you mind if I borrow Cat for a minute?”

  “Oh, sure! I’m sure you have a lot of plans to facilitate.”

  He grabbed Cat by the arm and dragged her out the front door. The bells jingled happily behind them.

  “That was the lowest, most underhanded manipulation—”

  “I wouldn’t have had to bring in the big guns if you would have listened to reason,” she pointed out, yanking her arm out of his grasp.

  “Since when is reality television the voice of reason?” He was practically shouting now. He didn’t know what it was about this woman, but she had the uncanny knack of raising his blood pressure to apoplectic levels.

  “Have you ever even watched my show?”

  “I saw the episode you shot here. The white-washed version of the truth. You made the Hais look like helpless victims.”

  “Hey!” She stepped in on him, obviously taking offense. “I would never do that. The Hais are some of the strongest, most resilient people I know. I would never let them be painted in a negative light.”

  “Aren’t you too busy with your photo shoots and your bar fights to really pay attention to what’s going on on set?”

  “You’re an ass, Yates. But I’m still going to help your town, and guess what? I’m going to rub your face in it every step of the way,” Cat snapped back. They were toe-to-toe again in battle stances.

  “I don’t like you.”

  “Good because the feeling is beyond mutual.” She drilled a finger into his chest.

  “I hate everything that you stand for.” He grabbed it, held it.

  “Yeah? And I hate that you’d let your personal feelings stand in the way of the good of your town. So, I guess we’re even.”

  She had a cocky damn mouth on her. “It’s my job to protect these people.”

  “You make it sound like I’m coming in to rape and pillage.”

  “You might as well be. You’re using this as fodder for public consumption. My friends and neighbors have been devastated, and you’re going to shove cameras in their faces and make money off it.”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what you think of me and my show. What I think we both can agree upon is we want that little girl in there to have a home to go home to.”

  “The Hais can have a home without you.”

  “I have the budget for April’s house, Reggie’s diner, and the park. I can also bring in an army of volunteers to help with the other buildings and homes. I’ve got the money and the resources. You just have to say yes.”

  He swiped a hand over the back of his neck, fighting the tension that coiled there. He was good and fucked. There’d be no money from the state until mid-December at the earliest. Contractors were already in short supply with the bulk of the rebuilding happening in New Haven. Merry was looking at a desolate year end at best. No festival, no tourism revenue, and cleanup that would take them months and months into the new year.

  He swore under his breath, hating himself.

  “What about decorations?” he asked. “If you want us to have a Christmas festival worthy of national television, we’re going to need all new stuff for downtown and the park.”

  “Done. Is that a yes?”

  She was too smug, too sure of herself. She had him over a fucking barrel, and she knew it.

  “Look, I’ll even throw in some kind of bullshit producer’s credit so you’ll at least have the chance to view footage before it airs,” Cat offered. “That way there won’t be any surprises.”

  “I want a say in what airs.”

  She was shaking her head. “Not happening. Take the deal, Noah. I’m not going to screw over your town. In fact, I’m going to make it my goal to have you feeling like the world’s biggest jackass for dragging your feet by Christmas Eve.”

  She stared at him. She could smell the victory like a shark circling an easy prey. He wanted to tell her no. Wanted to personally escort her out of town. But the town needed her money more than it needed his righteousness.

  Noah nodded. Once. “Fine. But if you step one foot over any line, I’ll make your life miserable.”

  She grinned, a sharp feline smile that any other man would have found sexy as hell. Noah found it evil. She offered him her hand, and with reluctance, he took it and shook. The spark that he felt ride up his arm? That was his body warning him away from the evil before him.

  “I’ll have cameras here tomorrow so you might want to spread the word. If you need any help acting like a human being, let me know, and I’ll have marketing write up a script for you.”

  She turned and strutted back into the restaurant, her glossy hair bobbing in its tail. He stared after her and clenched his hand into a fist.

  Noah had just made a deal with the devil herself.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Eight weeks to Christmas Eve

  Cat, with the network’s blessing and sense of urgency, mobilized an army in less time than it took most people to pack for vacation. By morning she had a small camera crew rolling through Merry scouting locations and shooting cleanup. She had PAs calling local news stations looking for any flood footage the show could use.

  Cat shoved the first story editor on location out the door with a preliminary list of interviewees and the task of figuring out which stories would be followed on the five-episode arc.

  The first of the RVs the cast and crew would be staying in were setting up camp in the side parking lot of the grocery store. Noah had signed the permits himself, which Cat considered a personal victory. He’d been a tougher nut to crack than she thought. Though why a city manager would balk at having a TV show with deep pockets finance most of a town’s rebuilding budget was an unpredictably stupid move.

  She’d enjoyed making him squirm with the adorably verbose April. No man who loved his daughter could say no to a little face calling him a hero. Cat 1-Noah 0.

  She only hoped he’d crawl off to lick his wounds and leave her the hell alone for the rest of the shoot. They had eight weeks to craft the story, rebuild a town, and air the finale live on Christmas Eve. If Noah knew what was good for him and his town, he’d stay out of her way. But there was nothing Cat loved more than a good challenge.

  She let the RV door slam behind her as she stepped down onto the asphalt of the parking lot. Her list was eighteen miles long, and she was going to start knocking items off it.

  “Hey there, Madam Producer.”

  Cat spun around.


  “Well, if it isn’t my gorgeous and deeply talented sister-in-law!” She grabbed Paige for a hard hug.

  “For now, I’m your gorgeous and deeply talented director.”

  Cat pushed her back a step. “No! The network said they were sending Martinez!”

  Paige pushed her short dark waves out of her face. “They were until I volunteered my time for free.”

  Cat felt tears prick at her eyes. “You didn’t. You noble shithead!”

  Paige nodded, grinning wider. “It’s a good cause, and my next project doesn’t ramp up until January.”

  “You didn’t have to, but I’m so damn glad you did,” Cat said, clearing the emotion that lodged in her throat. “What about Gannon and Gabby?”

  “We’re a mobile family,” the deep raspy voice, as familiar as her own, announced over her shoulder.

  “Shut the front door!” Cat launched herself at her brother. Gannon King, handsome as a devil and prickly as a cactus, was dressed for work in worn jeans and boots that should have seen the inside of a trash bin months ago. He wore a Kings Construction fleece and a ball cap. He hugged her back, hard.

  “Gotta make sure my idiot sister doesn’t go floundering through any more floods.”

  Cat snorted and punched him in the chest. “Like you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

  “And you would have been just as pissed at me for not inviting you.”

  He had a point.

  “Where’s Gabby?” A devastated town and TV set was no place for her niece.

  “We called in a favor,” Paige said. “Your parents flew back from Florida. We’re renting a place about ten miles from here—I’m not sharing an RV with our daughter and my in-laws. They’re ecstatic about the grandparenting emergency.”

  “Mom and Dad are here?”

  “Mom left strict orders for you to carve out an hour for dinner tonight,” Gannon warned her.

  Angela King was a pushover as an Italian grandmother, but no one said no to her when it came to food. “I’ve got a lot going on here, but I’ll do my best,” Cat sighed, mentally rearranging her evening.