by Becky Lower
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Praise for Becky Lower
Love’s in the Cards
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
She had been so tongue-tied around him
she couldn’t find the right words to say. And now she had two devastating long-term relationships under her belt. Should she try for one more? Perhaps the third time would be the charm. Her sister’s voice pounded in her ear. Suck it up, Buttercup. She took a deep breath. “Just how do you intend to make Valentine’s Day fun again?”
He locked his gaze on hers. “By spending time with you. By righting old wrongs. By apologizing to your mother for making the soles of your shoes purple.”
Penny’s breath caught in her throat. Delbert, her childhood sweetheart, had come roaring back into her life. Whatever should she do? Their half-eaten lobster burgers and fries sat on the table, giving her something to play with while her mind buzzed She maneuvered a French fry into the lake of ketchup on her plate. Even though she’d lived in Lobster Cove most of her life, she’d never tired of the taste the town was famous for. She swallowed a bite of the succulent white meat on a bun. “I’d really enjoy spending time with you, too, Del. How convenient that you’ll be in the same block as my folks, since Abbey and I do hang out there a lot. But right now is our busiest season of the year. And, as much as you hate Valentine’s, I hate Christmas.”
Del raised an eyebrow. “Why? Because there’s so much work involved at the card shop? Or because of your bad experiences?”
Penny attempted to corral her wayward musings, but sparks were being set off in her head every time she glanced at Del and goose bumps erupted on her skin. For the first time in almost a year, she experienced very female feelings toward a man. She didn’t need another Christmas casualty.
Praise for Becky Lower
“You just can’t go wrong with a Becky Lower novel, so pick yours up today and start reading!”
~My Book Addiction and More
~*~
“Even if you don’t live by the seaside, you will wish that you did by the time you have read the last page of this book.”
~Sharon
~*~
“This is a beautifully crafted story and it was a pleasure to read.”
~Collette
~*~
“This book was beautifully written and I love the interaction between the sisters.”
~Brandy
Love’s in the Cards
by
Becky Lower
The Lobster Cove Series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Love’s in the Cards
COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Becky Lower
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Rae Monet, Inc. Design
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Sweetheart Rose Edition, 2016
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1107-4
The Lobster Cove Series
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
This book is dedicated to
the hard-working men and women
in the greeting card industry.
The world is a happier place because of you.
Chapter One
Penny cringed as her sister, Abbey, sang at the top of her lungs in her off-key voice. Her voice might have been muffled behind the life-size figure she manhandled, but her intention rang out loud and clear. “Hark The Herald Angels sing, something, something, something.” The remaining lyrics were merely hummed, since Abbey had memorized only the first line.
Waddling out the door of the shop behind her sister, Penny imitated the movement of the six-foot-tall plastic nutcracker she jockeyed to the sidewalk, almost as if she danced with the figurine. “Aren’t we rushing things a bit, Abbey? Thanksgiving hasn’t even happened yet.”
Abbey dusted off the shoulder of the life-size nutcracker in front of her. “And you know retail no longer waits until after Thanksgiving to start selling for Christmas, especially in Lobster Cove. We’ve had our card display up for over a month, our ornament inventory has turned over four times since the first of November, and we just had our first big snowfall of the season.” She squared her nutcracker alongside the doorway. “People are in the mood to shop for their Christmas gifts. Not to mention, Mom and Dad have had their house decorated for weeks now. Since this is one of our busiest times of year, we need to draw attention to the shop. Our nutcrackers will do the trick. They always do.”
They both glanced up at the store sign as they wove their arms around each other. The Treasure Chest had been the fulfillment of a lifelong dream to work together. The shop overflowed with inexpensive and mid-range priced items in addition to the greeting cards, since the store had become one of Baxter Greeting Card’s signature stores. A lot of inventory needed to be turned over each month to pay the mortgage on their prime storefront real estate at the intersection of Main Street and Hidden Cove Drive, just one block away from the trolley stop.
Penny sighed softly. Abbey made sense. They had to do everything possible to compete with the other shops, all chasing the same tourist dollars. Even if doing so meant having six-foot-tall nutcrackers flanking the door for the next six weeks. Penny’s eyes smarted with sudden tears, but she blinked them away quickly, telling herself the moisture merely came from a reaction to the cold weather. “I think we need new names for these boys, especially after last year’s debacle. I now have two reasons to despise the season.”
As she wiggled her nutcracker to his final position on one side of the entrance to their shop, Abbey grunted. “This is our make-or-break season, so your attitude has to shape up, Penny. I had hoped a year would give you enough time to get over last Christmas’s aborted wedding.”
Penny jerked her big statue a bit too hard to the left before she squared him with the frame. She bit her lip at the chastisement as she glanced at Abbey. Anyone could tell they were from the same family, with their dark hair, blue eyes, and slender builds. Often, they were mistaken for twins, even though Abbey had been born two years earlier. The only noticeable difference was Penny could sing in key, but Abbey had a tin ear.
“Even though I’m over both Max and Ricky, their betrayals still hurt. And the fact they both screwed up my Christmases makes me hate the season.”
“Well, if getting your head back on straight this year means we rename Hans and Gunther, let’s do so. What’d you have in mind?”
Penny squinted up at the lifelike plastic statues towering over them. “I don’t mind Hans, but I’ll name mine Solo, since that’s what I am.”<
br />
Abbey grinned and wrapped an arm around Penny. “Well then, may the force be with us as we head into our peak season. The weather’s finally turned cold, perfect for putting folks into the holiday gift-buying mood. Let’s get inside. I’ve got something exciting to show you.”
Once inside, they returned to the corner of the back storage room where an office with two desks had been carved out.
Abbey took a huge folder from one of the desks. “I got this a few weeks ago from corporate in Portland. Having Baxter’s main offices in Maine and so close to our store is really convenient. More than once, we’ve had to make a mad dash to pick up more inventory. And we’re one of the locations they call on when they need input from a store level. For now, though, these are our instructions on how to set up the shop for the Christmas cycle.”
Penny glanced at the papers and layouts in Abbey’s hands before she shrugged. “Not much new and exciting there, just a duplicate of what we did last year.” She blew out a sigh. “And the year before that.”
Abbey’s eyes sparkled, and she grabbed for one of the papers in Penny’s hands. “But we didn’t have this last year, did we?” She threw open a four-color flyer, the paper crackling with the flourish of the movement.
“What exactly is this?” Despite her attitude toward the season, Penny couldn’t drag her gaze from the colorful brochure Abbey held in her hands as she stood alongside.
“This is the newest line of Christmas cards from the hot and talented abstract artist, Dale McLintock. What you won’t find are pictures of the artist himself, if in fact Dale is a male. All very mysterious. Reminds me of Sia, the singer who hides behind her hair.”
Penny’s eyes narrowed as she studied the flyer. “I suppose Dale could be a female artist. The name is fairly unisex and could swing both ways, and while these pictures are bold, a woman could be behind the brush.” She ran her finger along the photos of the cards, lingering over them. “If Thomas Kinkade and Georgia O’Keefe had a hippie baby, it would be this artist, don’t you agree? These pictures are comforting Christmas scenes with an edge, if that makes sense.” She straightened, shifting her focus to the business at hand. “So, are we to feature these cards prominently in the store and hype the mystery behind the talent? This might be a fun season after all.”
Abbey wrestled the flyer back from Penny’s grasp. “Well, corporate is already doing the hype, so we’ve got a lot of help there. We’ll get blow-ups of the cards to put in the windows. And one lucky store will be chosen for the unveiling of the artist.”
“What do you mean? Dale McLintock will come out of the closet this Christmas?” Penny’s nose wrinkled, and she rubbed the itch. She leaned closer in an attempt to read the instructions Abbey held in her hands.
Abbey cleared her throat, and then pointed to the final instructions on the information from the main office. “The artist will make himself or herself known at one lucky store in a few short weeks, just in time for the serious Christmas crowd.”
“Wow.” Penny bounced from one foot to the other. “Can you picture the masses of humanity who’d show up to discover who the artist is? What a great marketing gimmick.” Her shoulders slumped, and her movement ceased. “But we don’t need to hold our breath. I’m sure the honor will go to one of the big stores in a trendy city with a huge population, maybe in downtown Seattle. Or New York City.”
Abbey tapped the brochure with her finger. “The instructions say all stores are eligible. The big unveiling could happen here in Lobster Cove.”
Penny laughed for the first time since she hauled Solo out to the front of the store, her mood lightening. She stepped to a corner of the storeroom, where she tussled with a large box. “Dream on, Abbey. But I bet these are the blow-ups of the cards. I’m now dying to see them and put them in our windows. We’ll place the boxed cards in a featured location.” She patted the box for luck. “I have a feeling these will be our best-sellers of the year.”
“Let’s make certain we have a huge supply of the cards on hand before we go crazy with the windows. They’re supposed to be sold in boxed sets as well as individually.”
Penny sat at the computer, which took over most of the top of one of the desks. A few inventory sheets from the morning’s shipment were in a basket alongside but otherwise, neatness prevailed. “If they’re here, then I’ve logged in the inventory and can tell you exactly where I stashed them on the shelves. I can put my hands on them in a flash.” She hummed “Jingle Bells” as she searched her computer records and could swear she smelled cinnamon in the air. Maybe she could get through the season after all. She loved a good mystery. And Dale McLintock certainly qualified.
Chapter Two
“I hope Corporate can keep up with demand for those Dale McLintock cards,” Abbey declared as she input their weekly order on the computer and sent it off, printing out a copy for her records, which she added to the stack of papers on top of the desk in the small office. “We had to get in an extra shipment mid-week, and I’ve upped our weekly order again. The ladies over at Venus Gallery are also referring people here to buy them, since the cards qualify as art.”
Penny sat at her desk while she finished the bank deposit, placed everything in the pouch, sealed the bag, and locked the day’s profits into the safe. “Judging from the receipts, this year could be our best yet.” She glanced at her sister. “I don’t mean to jinx us, but Dale McLintock has obviously struck a chord with the masses. Everyone will be getting one of his cards this year, at least if our small store is any indication.”
“Might be a ‘her’ rather than a ‘him,’ Penny.” Abbey quirked an eyebrow in her sister’s direction.
Penny smiled. “That’s part of what’s driving the sales. The mystery surrounding the person who is behind the beautiful art. I’m dying to finally have an answer myself.” She spritzed on a dollop of hand sanitizer and then dusted off her hands. “Now I can finally break open my candy cane. The bank tends to frown when the pages of their reports stick together.” She peeled the plastic from the treat with a crinkly flourish and smacked her lips as the first hint of peppermint hit her taste buds.
Abbey grinned as she waved an envelope under Penny’s nose. “Well, this might take away your sweet tooth. We’ll find out soon enough who our mystery artist is. The big reveal happens this weekend, and this letter will tell us the location of the lucky store. I hope at least the store will be on the east coast, rather than the other side of the country, so we can direct people to the place.”
Penny jumped to her feet to examine the envelope. “Well, stop with the suspense, and open the letter.”
“Drum roll, please,” Abbey commanded, holding aloft the envelope.
Penny pounded her hands on the metal desk as Abbey opened the letter and read the contents silently.
Her hand shook, and she dropped the letter on the desk with a gasp. “I don’t believe it. Ours is the store they picked.” Her face lost all color as she stared at Penny.
“What? Our dinky store is where Dale McLintock will appear? You must have read the letter wrong, Ab. Let me see.” She scooped up the paper, scanned the page, and set down the letter again quickly, almost as if the letter were a poisonous snake. “Not that I’m complaining, but why would they pick us?” Penny blinked at the letter. Maybe clearing her vision would change the message.
“Perhaps we were picked because we’re selling so many of the cards. They’re doing even better than the company’s signature ornaments.” Abbey danced around the small office area.
Penny moved to the storeroom doorway and glanced out at their shop. “Or maybe the reason is because we’re so close to Baxter’s corporate headquarters. All the big shots can come to the unveiling and enjoy a day away from the big city. Good Lord, we have a lot to do and only four days to get ready.” She rubbed her stomach, which had tied in knots, with early panic setting in. Only four days.
Again, Abbey picked up the letter. “This letter states corporate has already placed newspaper and TV
ads announcing the event, so we don’t have that headache. Tomorrow, we’ll get signage, along with a massive shipment of cards.” She waved the letter over her head. “This is really exciting, Penny. The party has to be much more elaborate than the one we had in November to kick off the ornament of the year.”
Penny had to admit the small size of their shop wasn’t the only issue. Her most dreaded holiday would now take on the size of an elephant, in terms of work, sales, ordering, and more work. As she stared out at their darkened store, she chewed on her bottom lip. “We can’t handle this, Abbey. We should call corporate and tell them they made a mistake.”
Abbey’s eyes widened as she stared at Penny. “No way are we turning our back on this opportunity. We’re too late for them to change venues, since they’ve already got newspaper ads in place, but I’ll admit I’m curious why we were chosen. I’ll call them in the morning to find out more information and to nail down the details. Maybe they’ll tell me how our name got yanked out of the hat.”
After she put the letter in the top drawer of the desk, Abbey punched Penny lightly in the arm. “Hey, a big party will be fun. And we’ll definitely see a boost in our sales for the month. Who knows, this might even help you change the name of the nutcracker back from Solo to Gunther.”
Penny rubbed her arm where she’d been punched. “I highly doubt that.”
Abbey sparred with the air as she danced around on her toes. “And I say, give us your best, Dale McLintock.”
****
A few short days later, Abbey and Penny unloaded the minivan at the back of the store. Competing odors of Christmas cookies from Julie’s Sweet Shop, including with her signature lobster-shaped cookies, hors d’oeuvres trays of olives, cheese, crackers and pickles, soft drinks, and Christmas candy from the Lobster Cove Grocery Mart filled the air in the van in preparation for what they hoped would be a banner day.