by R. Holmes
“You’re finished at Alpine,” he grits out through clenched teeth with finality. “I’ll be installing someone I can trust to do things the right way.”
No.
“What?” I breathe. He can’t take the Alpine from me. I’ve worked so hard and now it’s all coming crashing down around my ears. “No, Dad—listen! Just let me—”
“I’m done listening to your whims and excuses. You’re not capable of running one of my resorts to the standard I expect. I should’ve known you were too young to give this much responsibility to.”
The scathing remark blisters my ego. His standards are impossible and too rigid. Sooner or later his company is going to come up against reality because of his refusal to change for the modern world of vacationing.
When did he stop caring about the experience his resort guests receive? Did he ever care in the first place?
Who am I kidding? Of course he didn’t. It’s always been about the money and renown.
“Look, Dad.” I prop my hands on my hips and stare him down. “I think if you just give me one more chance to give you a tour and take you through what I have planned, you’ll see my strategies are the right choice for this resort. I’ve spent time here getting to know the type of tourists coming through and reaching an intimate understanding of the people who live here.”
From the corner of my eye, I spot Finn making his way over to me with a big charming grin. In my head, I picture what would happen if Dad wasn’t reaming me out right now in front of onlookers. Finn would reach me, sweep me into his arms, and give me a kiss that leaves me dizzy.
My brain is off in la la land enjoying a victory makeout session with my sexy lumberjack while I take the brunt of Dad’s callous anger. Lucky bitch.
“No,” Dad says, turning away from me in dismissal. “You’re done. I expect you back in the California office within two days. You’ll return to your previous position. If you’re not there, you’re fired and cut off.”
Finn freezes a few feet away at my father’s clipped ultimatum. My throat feels raw.
Even with the person who makes my heart whole standing nearby, I’ve never felt more alone and out of place. Dad essentially said he’s fine with throwing me away. His own daughter.
It’s just like when I was a kid waiting and wishing for my family to be whole again.
No, this is worse.
At least then I had naive hope. Now I know Dad’s never cared for me one second of his life. Selfish bastard.
My chest heaves with painful breaths as Dad and his entourage cross the square, scowling at the festivities and celebratory mood. He’s a heartless monster, more despicable than Scrooge. Faced with the same three ghosts of Christmas Past, Christmas Present, and of Christmas Yet to Come, Dad would never learn the same lesson and change for the better the way Scrooge did.
He and his precious money deserve each other.
“Babe,” Finn says as he reaches me. He’s a solid wall of warmth at my side, and I’m two seconds from burrowing into his chest and never leaving. He touches my arm, casting a hard glance at my Dad’s retreating back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I have to nod twice before I believe it myself.
“What a fucking asshole,” he mutters darkly.
I stiffen. “You overheard?”
“Hard not to when he’s blustering up a damn storm like that.” Finn shakes his head. Some of the brightness from winning fades from his eyes. He goes quiet. A shadow of conflicted emotions clouds his face. “So…you’re leaving? Just like that?”
I open my mouth to deny it, but nothing comes out. What do I say?
Two days. I only have two days before Dad expects me back in California.
“I don’t know.” His eyes burn as they pierce into me. I reach for his hand. He lets me take it, but his stance is stiff. He’s wary of my answer. “I don’t want to.”
“So don’t.” Finn’s voice is low. “Stay.”
My throat constricts. I just had the one thing I thought I wanted and worked my ass off for ripped away from me, then told if I hope to keep a job or the only blood-related family I’ve ever known, I need to go back to California.
“If I don’t go, he said he’ll cut me off,” I say in a small voice.
Dad might be an egotistical, money-obsessed asshole, but...he’s still the only family I know.
Finn frowns, falling back a step, dropping my hand. The look on his face cuts me deep, that hint of betrayal bleeding back into his features. I haven’t seen that look in weeks.
He still thinks you’re a traitor.
“You’d seriously leave because he told you to?”
“I don’t know, Finn,” I say in a hard voice that cracks, growing frustrated. “I—he’s my father, my boss. He expects his orders to be followed. He expects me to go home.”
The line between Finn’s brows deepens as his brows draw together.
“When are you supposed to leave, then?” he mutters.
“In two days.”
A muscle in Finn’s jaw jumps when he clenches his teeth. “You really want to walk away from all this? Your friends here? Grams and Gramps?” He pauses, taking a step closer. His voice drops. “Me?”
“I—” My throat closes over.
No. No, of course I can’t!
I don’t really have a choice in this, even if I don’t want to leave.
Dad makes demands, and I meet them.
“I have to go tell my staff I’m not their boss anymore,” I say sadly.
It’s not what Finn wants to hear, I can see it clearly on his face the way his handsome features close off. I hate feeling shut out and can’t stand the thought of hurting or disappointing him. So much for our cocoa and movie date.
I take a step back, but he grasps my wrist to stop me. His gaze pierces into mine. “Screw that, Freya. Screw what your dad wants. What do you want?”
I open my mouth, but before I can speak, we’re jostled.
“Finn! We knew you could do it!”
The other townspeople still packing the square surround us, pulling Finn into their arms as they swarm him. They all want to celebrate with him, their spirits high. I shuffle back a few steps, ending up on the outskirts of the group forming around him. He looks through the crowd swallowing him to meet my gaze.
I linger for another few seconds, then leave the square to head for the Alpine without giving him a real answer.
I don’t know what the answer is.
The thought of leaving Hollyridge, Montana makes my heart ache worse than it ever has, like the damn thing might fall right out of my chest any second. Can I walk away from the memories I’ve made here? From the people who have become my friends?
I swallow thickly.
Can I walk away from the man I think I’m in love with?
The second I pull up at home, Grams and Gramps are both on the porch waiting for me. Tears stream down her face, and for the first time since I entered the competition, I realize just how worth it that it was. Seeing tears of happiness and relief shine in my Grams’ eyes makes it all fucking worth it.
"Finn! You won!" she cries, pulling me into her arms.
"I did it, Grams. I told you and Gramps that I'd make you proud." I grin, my chest puffing with pride. Gramps beckons me over to where he's sitting in the large cedar rocker.
"I'm so proud of you Finn," he says, his voice breaking.
It's rare to see my Gramps overcome with emotion, and I'd be lying if it didn't bring tears to my own eyes.
I fucking did it. I did it for them.
We're not going to lose the inn. My family's legacy is going to live on.
"I'm going to make so many celebration treats!" Grams exclaims. A laugh escapes through her sob.
"You know I'll never say no to your cooking, Grams."
"I know it darling boy. I hope you know how truly proud and thankful that your Gramps and I are for you. You didn't have to do this Finn, I know how much you hated Jingle Wars, but you put your feeling
s aside and selflessly did it for us.” She continues to cry. “I can't thank you enough."
Fuck, I'm going to be crying like a pussy next. My grandparents are everything to me.
“It was nothing, Grams. You and Gramps…you’ve done everything for me. You took me in when I had no one else. I can never repay you for what you've done.” My voice breaks with emotion. “I couldn’t stand to think of the inn not existing anymore. I grew up here. It’s my home. I’m just thankful that I somehow won.”
"I never doubted you for a second Finn," Gramps says with a laugh. "Even if your Grams did."
"Oh Harold, hush. That is not true, and you know it," she chatesizes him.
"I'm just teasin'. Isn't it ironic, Finn, that you spent so much time complainin' how much you didn't like that "stupid competition", but look how much it's brought you?"
He's right.
Not only did that stupid competition save the inn and my future, it gave me Freya, and without it, I might not have ever given her the time of day. I was too blinded by my own hate to see who she really was. And now...she might be leaving Hollyridge, for good. Which is what I wanted so desperately in the beginning.
She couldn’t even say what she wanted when I asked why she had to listen to her dad’s demands of her. As she walked away from me in the square, all I wanted was to reach out and grab her again, hold onto her to keep her from leaving Hollyridge. From leaving me. I’ve already wasted so much damn time being angry and trying to hate her that now I can’t stand to waste another second. Seeing the way she walked away from me in the square with her shoulders slumped in defeat was nothing I ever want to see again.
"I'm going to head in and get some supper started and put a cake in the oven. You two come in before too long. Getting colder by the second," Grams says before disappearing inside, leaving Gramps and I alone.
"I just wanted to tell you thank you, Finn. You knew how much I was worrying about the inn and stepped up, without us ever having to ask. You knew how important my pride is to me, and you never made me feel like I was failing. That's something no amount of money could ever replace Finn. Your Grams and I are so happy to have you run the inn. I couldn’t imagine anyone better. Thank you." He gives me a loving look.
"I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Gramps."
"Where's Freya?" He nods toward the resort next to us.
"Her dad's here. He was in the audience when they announced I won... He said some hurtful shit to her. Made me want to lay him out right there in the middle of the crowd. He's an asshole." My fists clench at the thought.
Gramps nods.
"Now he's demanding she leave and go back to California. I don't know Gramps, I can't imagine her not being here. I hate that he’s forcing her. He’s taking the choice from her."
His gray brows furrow in question. "Did you tell her that?"
"I haven't told her anything. Part of me is angry that she's even considering going back, and the other part is terrified that she will."
"You'll figure it out my boy. Love's not easy. Never will be. But, it's worth it."
I nod in response and run my fingers through my hair in unease. I need to have some time alone, straighten my head out, figure out what the fuck I'm going to do.
"Gonna head to Saint's stall and muck some, clean up a bit," I tell Gramps, rising from the rocker beside him.
"Best listener in the world, son. Been sayin' that for years." He smiles.
That damn donkey.
Daylight begins to fade from the sky and darkness takes its place while I’m still in Saint’s stall, unhurriedly running the brush over his coat. I’ve been here thinking all evening, talking to him like he’s ever going to say something back. But, the comfortable silence allows me to process everything that has happened in the past few days.
I actually won Jingle Wars.
As sweet as my win is, I hate that Freya is hurting and I’m fucking hurt that she’s thinking of leaving Hollyridge.
I think back to life before Freya moved in next door. I was existing. Working, spending time with Grams and Gramps, sleeping, repeat. Nothing extraordinary.
Maybe Grams was right all along… Maybe Freya is what was missing in my life. Freya coming to Hollyridge changed something in me, and until winning this Jingle Wars and the reality that she might be leaving hit, I didn’t realize how much she truly means to me.
“Saint, what do you think? You think I’m less grumpy with Freya around?”
He looks at me with his big, brown eyes and twitching ears, but damn if that stare doesn’t hit me right in the heart.
“You think?”
He lets out a low “yee-haw” and bares his teeth.
“If I let her leave and never tell her how I feel, then I’ll just be a fool Saint. Winning Jingle Wars was all I wanted, then somewhere along the way, she became what I wanted. I’m crazy about her.”
“Heeeeee-haw.”
“Saint, you’re a damn genius. I’m not just winning Jingle Wars, I’m getting my girl.”
Riley was sweet enough to let me pack up my entire life in the Scandinavian Winter room at the resort and move everything to her apartment near town square for now.
Despite having my friend’s help and support, I still can’t shake the strong sense I’m out of place, even in my best friend’s apartment. The feeling has only intensified since I left the square earlier today. It’s only the afternoon and I’m emotionally drained.
It’s like I’m stuck between my two worlds—my old one in California, and my new one in Hollyridge. Right now, I’m not sure I fit in either of them, existing in this strange gray area watching from the outside. In fact, I wonder if this is how Scrooge felt looking in on the lives around him without his presence.
That look on Finn’s face when I left the square earlier…it’s eating at me. I didn’t have an answer about whether I’m staying or not, and I still don’t have one now. When I tried calling him to apologize after I left the Alpine, he never picked up.
Is he annoyed with me for not giving a clear answer? I don’t want him to shut me out.
For now I push the worry down and lock it up.
“Thanks for this, dude,” I tell Riley after we’ve brought in the last of my things. I set down a tote bag full of shoes and admire one of her pottery vases with a Hollyridge mountainscape painted on it. She’s so talented. “You’re a lifesaver.”
My clothes are crammed into two suitcases and a duffel bag, everything a haphazard mess, stuck where it fits within Riley’s space instead of the organized way I’d packed when shipping my things from California to move to Hollyridge. I’ve fit it where I can amongst Riley’s art. Every available inch of her apartment is full of her original pieces. The first time I was here, she told me she hopes to someday show it all off in her own studio gallery.
“Of course, girl.” She gives me a light, playful tap to the shoulder with her fist. “We stick together. I wouldn’t leave you high and dry. Besides, you’re one of us now.”
A wave of love for my friend crashes into me and I wrap her in a hug. She allows me to cling to her, hugging me just as fiercely.
After Dad’s ultimatum, I found out another booking was taking over my room as soon as I returned to the resort. I didn’t even get the luxury of licking my wounds in the privacy of my safe space after the public reaming he gave me. Nope, one of the front desk managers let me know with a wobbly smile that I had to be out of the room in under two hours so housekeeping could prepare it for the next arrival to check in.
Riley helped me hold it together while I was essentially getting kicked out of my home here in Hollyridge.
I don’t know where Dad has gone. He wasn’t around when I was announcing the news of my dismissal to the resort staff. The door to my office in the lobby was closed—something I almost never did while I was running the resort, preferring to keep an open door policy. He was probably in there undoing every unique thing about the Alpine that I put into it.
“Want some cocoa?” R
iley gives me a sly wink as I take a seat on the couch. “I think I’m finally in the mood for that holiday movie marathon. One feel-good depression-buster coming right up for the mopey girl on my couch.”
A short laugh huffs out of me. She remembered what always makes me feel better. “You’re the world’s best bestie, you know that? I’m totally getting you a mug for Christmas that declares it.”
“And don’t forget it,” she sing-songs as she disappears into the small kitchen.
“Extra marshmallows for mine if you’ve got ‘em!” I call.
“Obviously.”
While she’s in the other room, I check my messages. There’s nothing from Finn. I don’t know what I was hoping for. He’s probably busy reveling in his win with his family.
Instead of luring myself into a montage of all our happy moments together, like a reel from my favorite Christmas movies, I open Instagram to distract myself.
Big freaking mistake.
The photo of Finn and I steals my breath.
“Damn it,” I mumble.
The way he gazes at me in the photo causes my eyes to glisten. He makes me so happy, and when I’m in his strong arms, surrounded by his woodsy scent everything is perfect. I feel at home, safe, and loved.
Will I ever find that with anyone else? I doubt it. He’s the first person I’ve ever felt like that with. The first time I’ve felt my heart call out to another.
Finn isn’t a quick itch to scratch, he’s the whole damn package. He’s the guy you lock it down with and have it all—cozy little house, two point five kids, a dog. Well, in our case, a donkey named Saint Nick.
A sad chuckle leaves me.
If I walk away from Hollyridge, I could lose out on the future I want with Finn.
As I hold my phone, gazing at the picture, an idea pops into my head.
I roll my lips between my teeth, darting my gaze out the window. The late afternoon winter sun kisses the mountaintops surrounding Hollyridge.
With butterflies filling my stomach, I pull up the information for the realtor of the cabin I was planning to buy. If I put an offer in, I can stay.