It wasn’t quite noon. Still June counted eight people in the café’s lunch line. The line moved quickly, though. Doreen Lopez—formerly Doreen Fever—the town’s mayor and café manager, worked the register while an older man and woman filled the orders.
June hesitated when she realized the last person in the line was Ethel Knight. Trinity Falls was a small town at a population of only fifteen hundred and Books & Bakery was a very popular location. They were bound to cross paths often.
Before joining the line, June took a steadying breath, picking up the scents of confectioners’ sugar, cinnamon, and chocolate as well as baking bread, seasonings, and fresh vegetables. “Good afternoon, Ethel.”
The other woman stiffened. Ethel turned toward her, dark eyes wide as though outraged that June would address her. Ethel opened her mouth once, twice. No sound emerged. Instead she marched out of the line and out of the store. June’s skin burned with mortification. She kept her head high, her back straight, and her eyes forward. In a little while, the slights wouldn’t hurt so much.
Minutes later, Doreen greeted her at the front of the line. “Hi, June. What can I get for you?”
June returned Doreen’s smile as the café manager’s kind brown eyes eased her discomfort. “Hi, Doreen. May I have a bowl of your turkey and wild rice soup, please?”
After completing her lunch request, including her beverage, June accepted her change and order receipt, then found a bar stool at the counter. Darius and Ean were already there. The two men had been friends since childhood and now were as close as brothers.
Darius gave her a concerned look. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” June settled onto the bar stool.
“You looked upset when Ethel walked out.” Darius nodded toward the customer line.
“I’m fine.” The uncomfortable knot had returned to her stomach. “And please don’t mention this to Noah. He needs to focus on his schoolwork rather than getting reports from you spying on me.”
“I don’t spy.” Darius’s look of hurt surprise was obviously feigned. “I’m a reporter. I report.”
June snorted. “You’re not a reporter anymore. You’re the Monitor’s managing editor.”
“Once a reporter, always a reporter.” Darius shrugged. “Which is how I can tell something’s bothering you. What is it?”
“What’s what?” Doreen appeared, carrying a tray with June’s soup, an apple, and a glass of ice water.
“Thank you.” June glanced at Doreen, then looked toward the cash register, where a young woman had taken the café manager’s place.
“D thinks something’s bothering June.” Ean lifted his glass of iced tea with one hand while slapping away Darius’s reach for his dill pickle with the other.
Doreen gave June a sympathetic look. “Don’t worry about Ethel. In time, she’ll realize you were as much a victim of Simon’s lies as she was.”
Had everyone seen Ethel turn away from her and walk out of Books & Bakery? “She has a right to be upset.”
Doreen tilted her head, looking at June. “If that’s not what’s bothering you, then what is on your mind?”
“Ben shot down my idea for the Christmas fund-raiser and I’m having trouble coming up with another one.” June swallowed some of her turkey and wild rice soup. The seasonings caused her taste buds to dance.
“What was your idea?” Ean licked the dill pickle, then put it back on his plate as he sent Darius a smug look.
“A Christmas dinner and dance.” It had been such a wonderful idea. June scowled into her soup bowl.
“That should work.” Doreen refilled Ean’s and Darius’s iced teas. “The anniversary dinner and dance was even more successful than we’d hoped it would be.”
“That’s what I thought.” June took a deep drink of her ice water. “I’d hoped to establish the Christmas dinner dance as an annual event and celebrate the center’s January anniversary as an annual online day of giving.”
“That’s a great idea.” Megan joined the group. She stood behind the counter with Doreen. “I’ve read about days of giving. With an online campaign, you have a much wider reach on a much smaller budget.”
“Exactly.” June’s smile was enthusiastic. “It’s also motivation to update our website.”
“Then why did Ben turn down the Christmas dinner dance idea?” Ean asked.
June sobered at the memory of Benjamin’s unequivocal rejection of her plan. “He didn’t give a reason. He just doesn’t want a dinner dance.”
“What does he want?” Darius asked.
“He didn’t have any suggestions. He knows what he doesn’t want but not what he wants.” June tried to moderate her voice but still let slip a trace of resentment.
“Well, you’re running out of time.” Doreen offered Darius a dill pickle. “Go ahead with your dinner dance idea. It’s brilliant.”
June sipped more water. “My boss doesn’t think so.”
“But his boss does.” Doreen topped off her water. “As mayor, he reports to me. I’ll call him this afternoon.”
Panic. The thought of Doreen fighting her battle with Benjamin for her turned her blood to ice. She had enough people giving her the cold shoulder in Trinity Falls. She didn’t want to invite more resentment.
June lifted a hand, palm out. “I don’t know if that would be such a good idea.”
Doreen frowned. “I was the one who hired you for this job even before Ben interviewed for the director’s position. Fund-raising for the center is vitally important to this town.”
June nodded. “I understand that.”
Doreen crossed her arms. “If Ben doesn’t have a better idea, we have to go with yours.”
This couldn’t end well. “Maybe I should speak with him first.”
Darius chuckled. “What will you say?”
I have no idea. “I’ll think of something.”
Chapter 3
The knock on Benjamin’s office door was a welcome distraction from his efforts to review the Guiding Light Community Center’s budget Wednesday afternoon. How had it remained open for as long as it had?
“Do you have a moment?” June stood at his office doorway.
Her wavy black hair swung around her delicate, heart-shaped face. Her pale green sweater flowed over her torso like a pure stream. Her narrow dark green skirt hugged her slim hips and ended at mid-calf.
“What’s up?” Benjamin saved the budget Excel file on his computer, then spun his executive chair to face June. The seat made a protesting squeal. He had to fix that.
June walked into his office. Her black pumps drew his attention to her shapely legs. Benjamin forced his gaze up to her eyes. He didn’t want to court a lawsuit. He was trying to rebuild his life not send it farther into the crapper.
“It’s really cold in here. You need a space heater.” June sat on one of the guest chairs in front of his desk.
“You’re right.” He’d add that to his growing list of things he needed: lubricant for his desk chair, space heater, new furniture. But the center’s limited funds had other priorities.
“It’s been two days.” June crossed her legs, adjusting her skirt over her right knee. “Have you had any additional thoughts about a year-end fund-raising event?”
I didn’t know I was supposed to. “I was leaving those plans to you.”
“Thank you.” June nodded. Her hair swung around her shoulders. Near her left shoulder, she’d pinned a small pewter broach. It looked like a reindeer in flight. “Since I haven’t come up with a better idea than the Christmas dinner dance, I’ll move ahead with those plans.”
“I’m not in favor of that event.” Didn’t I make that clear?
“You haven’t come up with anything better and neither have I.”
“We’ll come up with something.” Benjamin spread his hands, ignoring his rising agitation. “Give it more time.”
“Time’s running out. As it is, we’ll have to scramble to pull something
together in a month.”
Benjamin held her tawny gaze. There was determination in her eyes. He was determined as well. “Maybe we should skip the year-end event.”
June was shaking her head even while Benjamin was speaking. “That’s not an option, Ben.”
The sound of his name on her soft, smooth voice sent a thrill down his spine. His thoughts scattered. “Why not?”
“Right now, the community center has momentum in raising its visibility in the community.” June leaned forward, adding emphasis to her words. “There was the January fund-raiser, then six months later, Vaughn’s summer play. We would benefit from that momentum by hosting a year-end event.”
“What difference does it make if the events are six months apart or eight?” Benjamin struggled to hold on to his patience. “Why does it have to be a Christmas event? Why can’t we do a Valentine’s Day dinner dance in February?”
“Why are you opposed to the Christmas theme?” June’s gaze narrowed on his face as though she was trying to read his mind.
Benjamin stiffened. “I told you. There are too many holiday celebrations.”
“There’s only one communitywide Christmas event. That’s Books and Bakery’s, which doesn’t offer dinner or dancing.”
“People have a lot of other expenses at Christmas time. We can’t expect them to want another bill.”
“The dinner dance registration cost will be a tax deductible donation. They can write it off, just like the January birthday bash.”
Benjamin rubbed the back of his neck. Why was June fixated on Christmas? What was the big deal? He rose from his seat to buy time while he considered a new line of debate. The chair squeaked again.
He circled his desk and paced toward the window. “If attendees could write off the event tickets in December, they could write them off in February as well.”
June was silent for several beats. Benjamin was beginning to think he’d won this round. Then her question took the wind from his sails. “What’s your real objection, Ben? Is it the event or Christmas itself?”
Benjamin stiffened, then faced her. “Why would I be opposed to Christmas?”
“I have no idea.” June shrugged. “Personally, I love everything about Christmas: the spirit of the season, the lights, the carols, the traditions. I can’t imagine any Christian not enjoying the season.”
June’s eyes shone with lights that dazzled as she talked about the holiday. Her features softened, becoming even more beautiful. He could feel her passion for Christmas from across the room. It pulled at him, weakening his resistance. Had he ever been as enthusiastic about Christmas? Probably. But he definitely hadn’t been in the holiday spirit last Christmas and odds were against his excitement this year.
“I don’t dislike Christmas.” Then why did I have to force those words from my mouth?
“What are your plans for the holiday?” June closed the gap between them.
“It’s two months away.”
“Are you going to wait two months to decide what you’re doing?” She shamed him with a look.
“I just don’t think there’s a rush.”
June came to a stop an arm’s length from where Benjamin stood beside his window. “That doesn’t sound like someone who likes Christmas very much.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I do like Christmas.” Benjamin was beginning to feel hunted. “I’m going to spend it with my children while they’re on winter break.”
“They’re in college?” Her wide eyes found the framed photographs of his son and daughter beside his computer.
Benjamin followed her gaze. “Those photos are a little old.” By about ten years.
“Those are the most recent pictures you have of your children?” When he nodded, June shook her head. “You need to rectify that.”
“I will.”
“And you need to prove that you like Christmas.”
“What? How?”
“Help me throw the biggest and best Christmas party Trinity Falls has ever seen.” June’s amazing eyes twinkled at him. Every light in the heavens seemed to be in them.
Benjamin felt the force of her personality pulling at him with undeniable strength. Somehow Benjamin resisted her magic. He walked past June and back to his desk. “If you want the center to host a Christmas dinner dance, so be it. Go ahead and plan it. But I won’t do anything to support it.”
“Duly noted.” June inclined her head.
Benjamin watched her leave his office. Her straight green skirt seemed to twitch with displeasure with every step she took toward his door. Her back was straight and her head was held high. She’d won this contest. He didn’t know how. He hadn’t even realized there had been a contest. So be it. He’d win the next one.
Nessa strode into June’s office Thursday afternoon. Crushed ice tumbled into June’s stomach. She didn’t harbor any illusions that the town council president was here to ask after her welfare. That only meant one thing: another round of this Town Isn’t Big Enough for the Both of Us.
June lowered the pencil she was using to mark revisions for the center’s ad in The Trinity Falls Monitor. “May I help you, Nessa?”
“I hear you’re planning a Christmas fund-raiser.” Nessa sounded like she was commenting about something on the bottom of her shoe. It took June a moment to realize she was talking about the dinner dance.
“Yes, it’s scheduled for Saturday, December nineteenth.” June wrapped her hands around her mug of coffee. She was drinking it not because she needed more caffeine but because she was cold. She could feel the chilled air blowing through her office. Or was that Nessa?
“A week before Christmas.” Nessa took the chair in front of June’s desk.
I guess she’s planning on staying awhile. June stifled a sigh. “We’re getting a late start. It’s closer to Christmas than we’d like, but we need the extra time. Next year, we’ll plan to host it earlier.”
Nessa’s pencil-thin eyebrows lifted up her broad, brown forehead. “Do you plan to still be living in Trinity Falls next year?”
“Yes, I do.” June settled back on her chair, crossing her legs.
It seemed as though Nessa was preparing to remove her gloves. Good. She’d been enduring the other woman’s implied digs and insults for the past three months. It was time they got to the point. Bring it on.
The town council president sighed. “I’ve tried to be subtle, but perhaps subtlety is lost on you.”
“I’m well aware that you don’t want me in Trinity Falls, Nessa.” June straightened on her seat. “I believe you’re the one who gets lost in subtlety because you don’t seem to realize I’m not leaving.”
“You’re not wanted here,” Nessa snapped.
“That’s not completely true.” June shrugged. “Doreen asked me to apply for this job. She also helped me find a place to live.”
“Doreen doesn’t represent the entire town.”
“Neither do you.”
Anger flashed in Nessa’s eyes. “What about Simon Knight?”
June frowned. “What about him?”
“Do you intend to rekindle your relationship with him?”
June clenched her teeth to keep her jaw from dropping. “How does that concern you?”
Nessa’s oval lips tightened. “As a duly elected representative of this community, everything that affects its residents is my concern.”
June managed to keep her voice even. “My personal life doesn’t affect the fifteen hundred residents of this town.”
Nessa’s eyes narrowed in a glare. “What about Ethel Knight?”
“I’m not Ethel Knight’s enemy. I’m not here to cause her or anyone else harm.”
“You mean any more harm, don’t you?”
June’s pulse was galloping in her throat. “I’m here to work and to live. That’s all.”
Nessa spoke over her. “How do you think Ethel feels, having you—the woman who destroyed her marriage and tore apart her family—in her hometown? Every day wondering whethe
r she’s going to come face-to-face with you around the next corner?”
June’s temper grew with every word out of Nessa’s mouth. “What does any of this have to do with you?”
“As the town council president, the health of this town is my responsibility. And you, June Cale, are a cancer on this community.”
June’s body heated with temper. It had been almost two decades since she’d been treated with so much blatant disrespect and discourtesy. Back then, she’d been frightened and naïve. Today, she was mature. And although she didn’t consider herself to be courageous, she was much more confident. She didn’t have to take this crap.
She rose to her feet and locked her knees. “I want you to leave my office.”
Nessa stood, pulling her purse onto her shoulder. “And I want you to leave Trinity Falls.”
“Do the residents of Trinity Falls realize they elected a megalomaniac?”
“You’re not welcome here.” Nessa gritted the words.
June settled her hands on her hips. “Do you really expect me to run home and pack my bags?”
“Ethel Knight has lived in Trinity Falls her entire life.” Nessa crossed her arms. “You just moved here. Who do you think I’m going to protect?”
“Ethel doesn’t need protection.” June recalled Ethel’s snub at Books & Bakery yesterday. “She can take care of herself.”
“The people here already are unhappy with having a home wrecker in their town. There’s more than one way to convince you to leave. For example, I wouldn’t put much effort into planning that Christmas fund-raiser if I were you.”
June’s blood chilled. “And why’s that?”
“Because I’m going to make sure it fails.” Vicious satisfaction hardened Nessa’s voice. “All I have to do is say the word and no one will attend. No one.”
June fisted her hands in anger and frustration. Did the town council president actually have that much clout in Trinity Falls? Could she really convince people to withhold support of the community center by staying away from the Christmas dinner dance? Could June risk ignoring the other woman’s threat? Her mind raced for a solution when another voice expressed himself.
A Christmas Kiss Page 12