by Nancy Fraser
And to Jackson, the best rumba partner on four legs!
Chapter 1
BRENNA JAMES NEEDED to relax, and recharge, and she had to care enough to do it. But she didn’t want to relax or recharge. She wanted her promotion and relaxing wouldn’t get her the Marketing Director position she’d worked hard for. “Arrgh! This is stupid!”
Driving to Dickens alone when she normally crowded into her father’s SUV with her mom and sister, felt like spite against her boss. “See?” she muttered to the empty car, imagining Bry’s smug face. “I’m fine. I got myself this far, didn’t I?” This far was two miles out of town and closing fast.
Over the past months, she’d worked herself down to a too-thin, too-anxious wraith of her former self. She’d given her all and yet, here she was with direct orders to recharge and regroup because she was too anxious and...
Panic attacks hadn’t helped her either. So, yeah, she needed to find a way to quit freaking out when things at work came at her like belches of burning lava. Gasping for air, clutching her chest, and storming around the room searching for an exit wasn’t a good look for her.
When all that had happened in the middle of her career-making presentation before an audience of twelve it had been noticed. Big time. She could still see their expressions of shock, horror, and pity as she’d lost her—shi—control all over the boardroom.
The humiliation made her sour and worse, the kind words from the V.P. of Accounts, Bry Johnson, had been a death knell. Truth was Bry hadn’t been smug when he’d talked to her, he’d been concerned. “Take some time off, it’s nearly Christmas. Aren’t you heading to that town your family drags you to?”
Dickens. Yes, she was heading to Dickens for a James family Christmas. While she was there, Bry had suggested she soak up the small-town ambiance, the quaint atmosphere, the boring, old-fashioned traditions.
Ugh.
She’d have to share a room with her sister, Kayley, and their cousin, Trix. They’d flip a coin for the bunkbeds, or the single bed jammed into the corner of the tiny room. Then they’d flip again for the top or bottom bunk. Secretly, she loved the top bunk and no matter what happened with the coin toss, she offered to take it.
That might be fun. Seeing her family would be cool. She hadn’t seen them in far too long. Thanksgiving had come and gone because she’d been grinding the campaign for Cheez-Wackos and worked straight through on the campaign that should’ve guaranteed her promotion. Trying to find the words to sell a product full of unpronounceable chemicals as a healthy snack had done her in. Had made her ripe for panic when she’d faced all those bored faces.
They’d hated her concept on sight and when she’d seen their clients fidgeting, panic had come over her like an eruption. She’d dropped the remote control for the large screen from nerveless fingers. All she’d worked for slid away into a drain. The images on the screen had swirled before her. Black spots had narrowed her vision and her lungs had just...stopped. That’s when she’d wanted to run, run, run...
If she didn’t quit thinking about it, she’d be back there, in that panicked state. She pulled her car to a stop on the gravel shoulder. The sign welcoming her to Dickens had been freshly painted in forest green with gold scroll lettering. Someone had stuck a bright red plastic poinsettia flower on top of the sign.
Christmas had come to Dickens. And so had Brenna James.
The season and all its traditions would help her regain her focus. Then, she could return to work and wow Bry with her can-do attitude.
JETT SOMERS TACKED up a flyer on the bulletin board inside Dorrit’s Diner. He’d already put one up in Morty’s Deli on the town square. What a place this was. The town of Dickens was quintessential New England. It had a Common with a gazebo, a statue of some guy who’d founded the place, and what looked to be a closed merry-go-round. Mid-December would be too cold for putting your kids on horses and fairy creatures.
He hoped the girl who’d put up flyers looking for her lost cat, Snowball, had found it. Every pole in the square had a picture and a plea for help. Poor kid.
The diner was in full holiday mode. Shiny red three-dimensional stars hung over the booths. Tinsel streamers crisscrossed the ceiling and fake snow had been sprayed in each corner of the front window. There was more, but Jett tried to ignore the over-the-top clutter.
Since he’d arrived on the first of the month, he’d heard lots of versions of White Christmas. So far, his favorite was from the eighties’ rockers, Doug and the Slugs.
His flyer secure, he settled at the counter and before he asked, an empty mug sat in front of him.
“Coffee?”
It was the regular afternoon server. Her name tag said she was Laurel, although he’d never used her name. She was there each afternoon, ready with a smile and a mug.
“Coffee.” He winked and gave the woman a nod. “Thanks. Best coffee in town.”
Laurel poured in a swooping low-high-low motion. “We like to think so.” She leaned toward him and in a whisper, gave away the diner’s secret ingredient. He raised his eyebrows at the information and mugged a look of shock. She chuckled.
They shared a sense of humor and after a morning working remotely with his assistant, Sophia, he made a point of coming in for coffee every day at this time. People like Laurel on the frontlines were pure gold. They were never paid enough, but they were vital for a business that depended on repeat customers.
Dickens had a lot of gold. Friendly people, with the right amount of easygoing curiosity without being pushy. They seemed genuine and satisfied to believe he’d come to town to give tango lessons to the crowd who holidayed here for Christmas.
He hoped he wouldn’t be here long, but it could be fun to be part of a small-town Christmas season. He never had much use for the holiday, having never had a family, but he’d seen a few seconds here and there of movie classics set at this time of year. The season supposedly brought out the best in people.
Jett understood the basics of Christmas. He had Sophia buy gifts people didn’t need, treated his employees to bonuses, and gave them paid time off from Christmas Eve to New Year’s Day. After he’d done his duty, he’d go somewhere warm with his woman-of-the-month and bury himself in planning the new year.
Spending these weeks in Dickens would be different. He was alone, for one thing. And he planned to enjoy the season, not overwork. Next time he mentored a business and invested, he’d be looking at the people involved, too, not just the bottom line and potential for profit.
Since he’d never had a family, he hadn’t understood what could tear one apart. His most recent protégé, Paul Forster still struggled to find his way after losing his wife and children to his fledgling business. Now-familiar regret ran through Jett’s gut. Paul’s whole reason for starting Bring the Change had been to support his family and improve the family lives of thousands of the poor and disenfranchised.
Jett would handle things better this time. He’d be sure not to push too hard or expect more than was humanly possible. Paul had given his all to his business and then lost the wife he loved. Jett had pushed him too hard and neither of them had seen the end coming.
If the business Jett hoped was here showed promise, he’d be extra careful. He’d never again be the instrument of destruction for a family. Never.
Chapter 2
“AUNT LOLLY,” BRENNA said as she took a seat next to a man nursing a mug of coffee in Dorrit’s. Her aunt turned toward her immediately, already grinning from ear to ear.
“Brenna! You’re early,” she leaned across the counter and smooched Brenna on the cheek. “What brings you here already?”
Early? Oh, right. She and the rest of the crew didn’t normally arrive until the twentieth or later. Today was only the fifth. Twenty days to Christmas. Twenty-five days to get her head straight. She hoped it worked.
“I just wanted extra Christmas time with my favorite aunt,” she responded with a grin. Lolly had already slipped a mug in front of her.
She
must keep them up her sleeve.
“Nonsense, you’re here so we can fatten you up. I’ve never seen you this skinny. Have you been eating?” Real concern dripped from Lolly’s eyes into Brenna’s, making her shift in discomfort.
And it wasn’t the first time she’d answered this question lately. “Of course. You know I love to eat.”
“Hmph,” came the reply. Great, now the family would be stuffing her full. She could taste Gramma’s ginger snaps now. Her mouth watered.
The man next to her shifted as he lifted his mug for a sip. The movement caused his scent, spicy and manly, to drift by her nose. His aftershave was both mystery and intrigue. She flashed him a glance.
Great profile. Strong nose and chin, perfect skin. His hair could use a trim, but she liked the slight wave that appeared at his collar. If it were the 1970s, he’d have a head full of wavy russet hair.
He’d probably pass those red highlights off to his kids. Nice.
Lolly filled her mug and her glance went from Brenna to the man and back again. Being caught checking out a man brought heat to Brenna’s cheeks. Aunt Lolly wasn’t the kind to keep her observations to herself, either. She’d tell the whole family that she’d caught Brenna lookin’.
“Brenna, meet the new guy in town.” Lolly raised her palm to indicate the man should say his name.
“You must be new here, if my aunt doesn’t know your name yet.”
“Been here a few days. I’m Jett,” he said. “Jett...Smith.” He turned his face to hers. Warm brown-sugar eyes took her measure.
“I’m Brenna James. I’m here for the season,” she said. She offered her hand and he took it in his. One warm shake and she felt it right up her arm and into her chest.
“But, sweetie, you never come this early,” Lolly interjected. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain later,” she replied with a significant look to her left. Jett Smith didn’t need to know her business. Although she’d kind of like to know his.
“I’m finished here,” he said pleasantly. “Have your reunion in peace.” With that, he slapped a couple of bills on the counter and left without a backward glance.
She got it. If she were the one leaving, she wouldn’t look back at him, either. Liar. That man was worth more than a second glance, but she schooled her features into indifference and shrugged.
“Amy, family’s here,” Lolly called through to the kitchen. “I’m taking a break.”
Inwardly, Brenna sighed. Coming to Dorrit’s first had been a tactical error, but she’d needed coffee and a friendly face.
“Fine with me,” came Amy’s faint reply.
With that, Brenna picked up her coffee mug and headed to a booth for a chat. If she’d been smarter, she’d have stopped by during the lunch rush. Lolly would’ve been too busy to grill her about her early arrival. But now with most of the customers fed or gone, Lolly would be all over her.
“It’s nothing big,” Brenna said to forestall more questions as her aunt slid in across from her. “I need a bit of R and R. I’ve been working a lot of hours lately.”
“Uh huh?” Lolly looked skeptical and knit her fingers together in expectation of a full confession. Family, they could read her like a book.
“And a window opened up for me where I could take extra time off. Where better to come than Dickens in December?”
“Uh huh.”
Brenna set her lips in a line. “That’s it, that’s all.”
“Uh huh.”
“What’s new with you?” She tossed out. “How’s Trix?”
A look of indecision crossed Lolly’s usually content features. She glanced heavenward as if for strength. “Her moron of a husband is leaving her.”
“Oh, no!” Her cousin, her dear, sweet, trusting cousin Trix had been abandoned. Never mind Trix’s husband was a snake. Her cousin had been blind to his faults. “How is she?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure. Sometimes, I hear bitterness in her voice. Then, it’s gone, like smoke.”
“When is she arriving?” Although Trix grew up here, she spent the Christmas season at Gramma’s house with the rest of the family so “all the kids” could be together. “All the kids” were now in their early- to mid-thirties. But still, tradition was important in Dickens. Trix’s husband had usually sacked out on the sofa.
“She’ll be here on the twentieth, like usual.” Lolly unclasped her hands and then knit them again. She was nervous. That reading-like-a-book thing went both ways.
Brenna leaned in. “What?” she said in a low voice.
“That rotter got another woman pregnant and dumped Trix like trash.”
Brenna had never heard such venom in her aunt’s voice. Lolly’s hurt for her daughter sat in her eyes.
Tears smarted in response to her aunt and cousin’s pain. Trix had wanted a baby for years. She’d confessed last Christmas that she was asking her husband about medical procedures, but he’d said they couldn’t afford it.
“I can understand why she’d feel bitter.” Her heart broke for Trix. “When did this all happen?”
“Two days ago.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware.” She’d been ducking calls from the family ever since her panic attacks had begun last month. And when Bry had told her to take time off last week, she’d ghosted most people in her life. Popping up here out of the blue must seem strange, but with Trix’s news, no one would look too closely at Brenna.
“No, don’t worry about not knowing. Trix wants to tell Gramma in person, so we’ve kept it quiet.”
“All right, I can keep a secret.”
Sometimes family needed back up and Brenna would have Trix’s back on this.
JETT HAD A FOUR O’CLOCK lesson with a recent widow looking for a new challenge. She was one of the holiday visitors and had explained she needed the distraction. The owner, Mrs. Moore, was on the phone when he arrived ten minutes ahead of the appointed time. She’d called her dance school, Tiny Tim’s School of Dance because as a child she’d worn braces. He loved the hook inherent in the name.
Who wouldn’t take a second glance at a business that seemed like an oxymoron or at the least, ironic? Anyone looking at the sign or the website would be hooked into reading more. Great marketing appealed to him.
Mrs. Moore was clever and kind and not concerned with why he’d come to Dickens, because as she put it, “People come and go here. You either love this place and atmosphere or you don’t.” He hadn’t asked if he looked like a man who’d stay because he wasn’t. He never stayed long anywhere.
Like the rest of Dickens, the studio was in full Christmas season dress. A phony tree stood in the corner, full of ornaments and tinsel garlands. If his nose was telling him the truth, Mrs. Moore had scented the air with pine.
Today.
Sometimes it was a combination of ginger and cinnamon.
“Are your lessons going well?” Mrs. Moore asked after she’d hung up, looking pleased and secretive. Something sly and mischievous glided through her gaze.
“My flyers keep disappearing and people call because they’ve taken them home or to their hotel. When they read that they’re private and only available until the new year, they panic and don’t want anyone else to get in.” Which was fine if he really was a dance instructor.
“Maybe you should stay in Dickens longer.”
He scrubbed his hand down his face. “It is nice here,” he conceded. A sound from the doorway made him turn. The widow had arrived.
She was the second most spectacular woman he’d seen today. She walked in, stuck both arms up in the air and announced, “Call me Marva!”
Marva was dressed in purple and orange. The color choice flowed into her brilliantly dyed hair. She wore a sparkly pair of dance shoes, purple tights, and a sequined orange dress that ended far above her dimpled knees. Marva twirled and removed her purple velvet cape as she moved.
She was a treasure and he loved her on sight.
Mrs. Moore raised her eyebrows and with
a nod to the marvelous Marva, scurried out the door.
Jett greeted his student, had her sign her waiver in case of injury, and walked around her to check her posture. She needed help. A lot of help.
He touched her on the back of her shoulders, prodding her to straighten. “Use your core.”
“Honey, do you really believe there’s a core under this belly?”
He leaned in next to her ear. “Sweetie, of course there is. And by the time this lesson is over, yours will be screaming.”
She gave a visible shudder and laughed. But she was game and challenged him to make her hurt.
Still, Marva only came in second in the stunning-woman-met-today contest. First place went to Brenna. Up close he’d got caught in her beautiful green eyes, saw her smattering of freckles and her long black lashes. The touch of her hand had sent a thrill straight down. The subtlety of her beauty had slammed him stupid and all he’d been able to do was run out of Dorrit’s like a bumbling kid.
Chapter 3
JETT WORKED POOR MARVA hard and by the end of the hour she glistened with her effort and her lipstick had been chewed off. “Honey,” she said through a heavy breath, “do you believe I can do this?”
“I believe.”
“I think I found my core.” She bent over and groaned. “I need a hot Epsom salts bath.”
He showed her a couple of stretches to try and then he settled her cape around her shoulders. “Don’t forget to soak your feet, too. They’re not new shoes, are they?”
“Yes, but I walked around inside my rental in them as soon as I signed up for lessons. They should be broken in.”
“Smart.” He gave her a smile. “Remember your posture at all times. You can train yourself to stand up straighter.” He showed her how to pin her shoulders back against the wall.
“I’ll try,” she promised. “Will you be at the tree lighting ceremony?”
“Unlikely.”