by Carrie Elks
He typed back quickly.
JOSH GERBER: I’ll call her later.
WILLA MARKS: You’re a good boy.
He grinned at her description. He was neither good, nor a boy, but he wasn’t going to disabuse her of her impressions. Even if his reasons for staying here for the next few days were pretty bad.
He closed the chat and pulled up a browser window, typing quickly into the search bar.
Holly Winter
Yeah, he’d Googled her before. But now he could do it without Kevin or Elizabeth in the vicinity.
Leaning back in his chair, arms folded behind his head, he watched as the results loaded up. She was such an attractive woman. And a worthy opponent. His lips curled into a grin. Let the battle commence.
It was Everley’s idea to hand out flyers to the townspeople, as well as to staple posters on every available surface in the town square. Holly smirked at the words written across the front. Winterville Against Redevelopment, WAR for short. It was stupid and pointless, but it made Everley happy.
Which was always a good thing. Because a happy Everley was always fun to be with, and she was exactly the kind of distraction Holly needed. Sure, her cousin was a little attention seeker when she was younger – the townsfolk used to call her Mini Candy – but she’d calmed down a little now.
“I can’t wait for those assholes to find these,” Everley said, standing back to admire her work. There were posters everywhere, WAR standing out against the red brick buildings and windows. It looked strangely incongruous considering it was Christmas time.
“In that case, you should post them on Instagram, because they’ve already left.”
“What?” Everley frowned. “When did that happen?”
“This morning. Charlie Shaw said one of those big black sedans came to pick them up. He saw it pass at about eleven.”
“And Josh too?”
Holly shrugged. “I guess so.” And she was glad, she really was. Sure, sparring with him this morning had been fun, but he was a distraction. She’d spent more time thinking about how to rile him up than how she was going to help save this town. Now that he was gone she could take a deep dive into the accounts and talk to her lawyer friend who she’d sent the contracts to. Figure out if there was a possible way to stop this deal from going through.
“Oh.” Everley looked crestfallen. “I didn’t think he would. I guess our plan of getting you close to him won’t work.”
“No.” Thank God, because it was definitely a double edged sword. “Anyway, this is a good thing,” Holly reminded her. “They won’t be here to stop us from posting these things everywhere. Or to come to our meeting tomorrow.” They’d asked everybody to come to the Jingle Bell Theater again, this time to set up their resistance.
“I really liked the idea of you being our inside man.”
Holly tucked the fliers under her arm. “That was never going to happen. I know I was all pumped up about it, but let’s face it, he just wants his money. I’ll never persuade him otherwise.”
“He likes you.”
“He’s aggravated by me,” Holly corrected her.
“And you like him.” Everley pointed out.
Holly laughed. “Now I really know you’re going crazy. Did you hit your head on the printer when you made these fliers? Leave the day dreaming to Alaska, we’re the hard nosed women of the family.”
“I’m still a hard nosed woman.” Everley gave her a smile. “But I also think it’s so sweet that he came back for you.”
“He didn’t come back for me. He came back to bulldoze our town square to the ground.” Holly ignored the little thrill shooting through her at Everley’s words. “And he left just as quickly as he arrived, so I don’t think it had anything to do with me.”
Everley’s smile melted. “Maybe I was just hoping that one of us would have something nice happen.”
Holly slid her gloved hand into her cousin’s, squeezing it tightly. “We agreed romance died when we were twenty-one, remember?”
“And that neither of us were suited for marriage.” Everley sighed. “I remember.”
“So what’s changed?”
“Nothing.” Everley shook her head. “I’m just being silly. Maybe the thought of this place disappearing is making me sentimental.”
“Maybe Josh coming back has reminded you of your own past,” Holly suggested. “And the one who got away.”
Their eyes connected, and Holly gave her a soft smile. She knew the ins and outs of Everley’s past, the same way Everley knew hers. They both wore their scars on the inside.
And they made them stronger, not weaker
“Do you think this could work?” Everley asked, eyeing the fliers Holly was holding.
“Probably not.” Holly sighed.
“We have to try though, don’t we?”
“Yeah,” Holly said. “We do.”
Everley looked up, her eyes widening as she glanced over Holly’s shoulder. A slow smile curled at her lips. “Maybe we’ve got them on the run more than we thought,” she said, her voice low.
“What do you mean?”
“Look.” Everley’s smile widened, as Holly turned to follow the direction of her cousin’s stare.
That’s when she saw Josh Gerber, reading one of the fliers, his head tipped to the side. A breeze was lifting his thick, dark hair, as he lifted his phone to snap a photograph before pulling his phone to his ear.
“He didn’t leave,” Everley murmured. “Which means one of two things. Either he’s more rattled by us than we thought.”
“Or?” Holly looked at Josh again. He was walking off toward the café, his phone still to his ear, completely unaware they were watching him.
“Or he’s stayed because of you.” Everley clapped her hands. “Either way, I call that a win.”
9
“I called to let you know that I’ll be staying at the Regency for a few days, in case you need to call me,” his grandma said.
Josh frowned. “Why are you in a hotel?” he asked his Grandma, still staring at the flier advertising a second town meeting. He’d leave it where it was, he’d already taken a photograph with his phone.
“Your grandfather is being difficult. I thought I’d give him a few days to huff and puff and get whatever it is out of his system.”
“What kind of difficult?” His voice was low. A cold breeze was blowing through his hair.
“You know what he’s like. He’s throwing a fit because he can’t get a hold of you and taking it out on everybody else. Thank heavens he can’t drive himself to the airport otherwise he’d be halfway to you by now.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll come home. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“You’ll do no such thing. That will only give him what he wants. Let him stew for a while, you’re the one in charge. Anyway, I could do with a lovely break. I have a facial booked in for this afternoon, and some of the girls are coming into the city to meet me for dinner this evening.”
His grandma’s friends were all in their early eighties, like his grandma herself. It made his lips twitch to hear her describe them as girls.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go back.”
“I’m eighty-three years old, sweetheart.” His grandma sounded amused. “I’m not about to start a brand new life. And anyway, I love the stupid old man.”
And wasn’t that the kicker? It didn’t matter how much of an asshole his grandfather was, he still had the devotion of a woman he didn’t deserve. No matter how many times Josh had tried to get her to see a lawyer, or an apartment that was beautifully furnished, she wouldn’t leave the man who sometimes got so angry he drove her out of her own home.
There was so much warmth in her voice. “Anyway, tell me about Winterville. Is it as pretty as it looks in the pictures?”
“I’m about to bulldoze it, Grandma.”
“Stop it. No you aren’t. You’re about to make it better, the way you always do.”
That was anot
her thing about his grandma. It wasn’t just his grandfather who basked in the glory of her devotion, Josh did too. She saw the good in everything, even when there was no good to be seen.
He had an inkling that if she was Satan’s grandma, she’d go around telling people just how lovely it was that he kept everybody warm.
“Will you still be there for Christmas? It looks lovely at Christmas. You could eat dinner at the Winterville Inn. Do you know they gather around the tree and sing carols?”
Yeah, he knew. “I won’t be here that long. And anyway, we don’t celebrate Christmas.”
“Yes we do. And anyway, you should have some fun. I’m worried about you, darling. You’re a workaholic like your grandfather. You need some time to relax.”
He bristled at the comparison. “I’m relaxed. I’m not even wearing a tie. And I don’t know how long it’s going to take.” Or how long he’d insist to himself he was only here for business, and not to make Holly Winter remember that one night they had together.
“Maybe you could go sledding,” his grandma continued. “Are you going to decorate your rental house for the holidays? There’s a Christmas tree farm nearby, it looks like so much fun.”
“How much have you been studying this place?” Josh was trying not to laugh. He wouldn’t be decorating anything.
“Your grandfather left some documents and brochures out. I took a look.”
“Well, it’s not like it used to be. The place has gotten a little downtrodden.”
“That’s because poor Candy Winter died. Did I tell you that I met her once? At a gala to raise money for childhood literacy. Oh my, the woman was a human dynamo. She managed to persuade Oscar Gentry to open his wallet, and everybody says the world will end when those demon moths escape.”
Josh chuckled.
“Oh darling, I have to go. I just saw Mindy Latham walk past, and it looks like she’s had some work done. I need to get all the details.”
“Of course. Have a good break and I’ll talk with you soon.”
“Take care of yourself. And have fun. You might even like it.”
He shook his head and ended the call, then sent a message to Willa, asking her to arrange a voice conference with his grandfather. It was one thing to avoid him, another if it caused his grandma pain.
He pushed open the door to the café. Dolores looked up and smiled as he walked in.
Why was she smiling at him? Surely she should be spitting in his coffee. He’d never understand the people around here.
“What can I get you?” she asked him.
He slid his phone into his pocket. “Is it okay that I’m here?” What was this sudden attack of conscience? She was a business woman, a customer was a customer. And yet he wanted her to say it was okay.
Dolores blinked, considering his question. “Of course it’s okay,” she said, reaching across the counter to pat his hand. The easy gesture made his throat feel tight. “You’re a customer and every customer is a friend. And you look cold,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “How about you go sit by the fire and I’ll bring you over a coffee and pastry?”
“That sounds good.” For heaven’s sake, he was choking up, and he didn’t like it one bit. He’d drink his coffee and eat the damn pastry then go back to his makeshift office in the rental home and concentrate on the plans for Winterville’s future, and tomorrow’s town meeting.
Josh rubbed his thumb against the stone in his pocket. Whether he liked it or not, he was a Gerber. And he didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body. For the sake of his sanity, he was planning to keep it that way.
The next morning, Holly was staring at handwritten numbers, her finger skimming down the length of the paper until she hit the bottom. She’d like to say Dolores was the only business owner she knew that still kept handwritten books, but Holly knew for a fact that Charlie Shaw did the same for the Cold Start Garage. Maisie at the Spa would probably too, if her grandson hadn’t set her up with a snazzy new laptop and accounting program he insisted she use.
“What’s this entry?” she asked Dolores, pointing at a payment of two thousand dollars. It was quiet in the café – she was the first customer by far this morning. She’d arrived before Dolores had even unlocked the door.
Damn insomnia. At least by being here she wasn’t thinking about a certain businessman with golden flecks in his eyes.
“That’s my contribution to your grandma’s medical bills.” Dolores gave her the softest of smiles. “Your mom and uncles couldn’t afford them, so we all agreed to help by paying more rent.”
“They couldn’t afford them.” Holly’s voice was monotone. “How much did your rent go up?”
Dolores looked surprised at the twisted expression on Holly’s face. “We agreed to a thirty percent increase until the debt was paid off. Your poor family shouldn’t have to pay for it all. Candy was always so good to us, so of course we wanted to give something back.”
Candy always made sure she had kick ass medical insurance. It was something she’d instilled into Holly from a young age. “There are only three certainties in life,” she’d say with a low drawl. “Birth, death, and hospital bills. You make sure you’re ready for all three.”
That hadn’t stopped her mom and uncles from taking advantage of the goodwill of the community, though. Sure, their inheritance was less than they’d been expecting. And all three of them had expensive tastes. But to take from these good, good people then sell the town from under them?
It made her feel sick.
“You should stop paying them now,” Holly told her. “And put that money aside for your retirement.” Holly grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a number. “If you could earn this much from the café would you continue working here?”
Dolores blinked at the number. “Of course I would. I’d like to hand things over to my son. You remember Reynolds, don’t you? He separated from his wife last year and he can’t work nights anymore now that he has shared custody of their children. He’s taking work where he can, but it’s no stability for those girls of his.” She smiled softly at the thought of her granddaughters. “I hoped they’d all come live here with me. I’d take more time off and help look after them.”
“Maybe things will change,” Holly told her, swallowing when she looked at the numbers Dolores had scrawled down. “The fight isn’t over yet. You’re coming to the meeting tonight?”
“Yes I am.” Dolores patted her hand. “I think it’s very sweet that you and your cousins are trying to find a way to keep things as they are.”
Holly didn’t feel sweet. She felt helpless. “If you leave these books with me, I’ll make some projections for you. And some suggestions on what you can do with your money if the sale goes through.”
“You’re a good girl.” The bell above the door tinkled. “And now I’d better get to work. This town doesn’t work without a good injection of caffeine and Christmas music.”
The clip clop of Dolores’ shoes echoed through the café as Holly leaned over the ledger, tapping on the calculator app on her phone and making swift notes on her pad. She was so absorbed in the calculations that she didn’t realize somebody was behind her until the flier was slapped down on the table by a very big, masculine hand.
And then she smelled him. The familiar notes of woody spice made her spine tingle.
She turned, expecting him to have a furious expression on his face. But instead there was a hint of a smile. Was it weird she felt almost disappointed about that?
“Good morning to you, too,” she murmured.
“Coffee?”
“No thank you.”
He hung his expensive gray wool coat on the hook beside the fireplace, then pulled out the chair opposite Holly’s.
“Please sit down.” She didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm in her voice.
“Thanks.” He smirked, stretching out his long legs and folding his arms across his crisp white shirt. “What are you doing?”
“I’m knitting a scarf.”
He chuckled at her obvious lie. Holly looked up, exasperated. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I was wondering if anybody can come to your show tonight.” He pointed at the flier.
“Anybody, as in you?”
“Yep.” His lips were still curled. Why did he have to be so damn happy? It made her feel crankier than ever.
“I thought you were leaving town.”
Josh lifted his hands up, turning them over as though inspecting them. “Nope, still here.”
“And why’s that?” Her eyes rose to meet his. And no, there was no connection there. The electricity shooting through her body was probably static from the fire.
“Because I’m kind of liking it here in Winterville.”
She tipped her head to the side, the ledger in front of her forgotten. “You are?”
“Yep. And now that I hear there’s a show tonight, I’m glad I stayed.”
Holly let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not a show, it’s a protest meeting. A protest against your redevelopment.”
“At my own theater.”
“What?” Holly blinked.
“You’re holding the protest meeting at the theater I own. In the town I own.” He didn’t look in the least perturbed by it, either. “So I guess I’m kind of interested in what happens next.”
“You own the theater?”
“It’s included in the sale. And your family signed the contract.”
Why the hell hadn’t she thought of that? Of course he owned it.
“But you haven’t transferred the money yet.” She was almost positive of that fact. Her mom and uncles were haunting this town like the ghosts of Christmas past. Once they got their grubby mitts on the cash they’d be out of here faster than a speeding bullet.
“It’s in escrow. Due to complete by December twenty-sixth.”
“Merry Christmas to us.”
His lips twitched. “It’s okay. I’m happy for you to hold your little meeting in my theater, as long as I get an invite.” He had that thing in his hand again – whatever it was. She squinted her eyes to try to get a look, but all she saw was a flash of white. Noticing her scrutiny, he closed his fingers and shoved his hand into his pocket.