“Father, my secretary can hear you out in the hall. Get ahold of yourself.”
The silence lasted long enough that Ezra started to feel uncomfortable. As difficult as his father sounded, he was not a man to cross. The business came first. He hung tenaciously onto every opportunity to make a profit and squeezed and clenched and milked it until every drop entered his account—and then he moved on. Ezra respected him, learned a lot from him about how to be successful, but he knew when he could not cross him, and this was one of those moments.
At last he spoke. “There have been…developments.”
Not what Ezra expected.
“Everything hinges on this one deal.”
“What? How could that—”
“The less you know the better. I’m just making it clear, casualties in Sanders Corners concern me less than ever. We make this work, or we go under. No more questions.”
They hung up, Ezra’s mind reeling. As far as he knew, the books were solid. They turned a profit at each of their locations. Builders were happy. His stomach clenched tighter.
Joy stepped in. “I have the mayor on line one.”
“I’m done negotiating with these people. Can they not see how this is going to benefit the town in the long run?” His voice rang through the office.
Joy’s eyebrows rose up to her hairline.
Ezra ran a hand through his hair. “I apologize. I’ve had some bad news. Put the mayor on.”
He lifted the receiver. “Ezra Stone here.”
“Mr. Stone, Mayor Lindberry.”
“Hello, Mayor, what can I do for you today?”
“I’m getting some kick back from some of our key citizens. It’s not a deal breaker, of course, but I need this to go over as painlessly as possible, if you know what I mean.”
“Understood. May I ask how vital these citizens are to the town’s well-being after the resort?”
The mayor cleared his throat. “They’re influencers in this town. We have to keep them happy or the deal isn’t going down.”
“What can I do?” His father’s warning rang in his ears.
“I need you to serve on the committee for the Festival of Trees, help head it up, actually.
What! He almost said it out loud. Of all the ridiculous… “I’m not sure I understand how that would benefit anything.”
“Oh, it will. The town must have a genuine feeling of goodwill from you. They need to know this will be a good thing for them. Losing Main Street is a bitter pill for most of them. We have to make sure they understand that the resort will be even better than what we have right now. They have to know that the developer gets Christmas, that he’s gonna want to keep traditions alive.”
Ezra rested his forehead on his desk, staring at the floor by his feet. “Ok, put me on the committee.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stone. The first meeting is tomorrow.”
They hung up. Ezra ground his teeth. He hated Christmas. He hated the buildup, the letdown, the commercialism and the misplaced faith. All of it. If he opened his mouth at all, they would know his dread for the holiday.
Joy stood in his doorway. “You want to see the tree?”
He resisted rolling his eyes. “Certainly.”
She was not fooled by his response, but she led him to the front of the office. The tree sat directly to the side of her desk in full view of any who would stop by. That was excellent placement. He felt a new gratitude for the Henleys and this tree. Who could have predicted he’d be advertising for Christmas along with most of the population? It was beautiful, in a masculine sort of way. He approached and walked around the whole thing. “Charming.”
Joy’ grin could not grow wider. “That Star, she’s the best. We’re lucky to have her in this town.”
They both knew her store and the tree farm were in jeopardy but neither said anything about that.
He reached out and lifted an ornament. A replica of one of his hotels. “What on earth.” He searched the tree. All the ornaments were buildings he had built during the last five years—beautiful architecture, known for their stunning impact—and several more of his projects were included. Here was a woman who knew how to do business and he could respect that. Her energy, the lovely turn of her nose, her bright and curious eyes that had turned to him expectantly…before he’d insulted her and before she’d found out he was the enemy. She had created this thoughtful gift for him, for them. Even knowing they had come to town to disrupt everything, perhaps change her and her father’s lives forever. He shook his head. “She’s something.”
“That she is. You don’t know the half of it.”
He’d like to know the all of it, but he assumed she’d already let him get about as close as he ever would.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what did the mayor want?”
“I’m to serve on the Festival of the Trees committee.”
Her eyes opened wider than he’d seen them go. “That’s some job.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Festival of Trees is everything in this town. People come from all over. The committee spends most of the year preparing. Your experience with the Festival of Trees could make or break you around here.”
“Let’s hope it makes me, then.” How hard could it be? But he knew how hard it was going be, and that had nothing to do with pressure from the town for some sort of excellence in tree decorating. All he had to do was push through the job, pretend to like Christmas. He could do that. Convince people to trust him and push through the job.
Even if everything he fed them was a lie.
Chapter 4
Star could not get Mr. Stone out of her head. His green eyes reminded her of Christmas, and as soon as she realized that, she knew she was a goner. She stood in her shop behind the ribbon counter fashioning an overly large wreath.
The suppliers had not been able to find some new pieces from Germany she really wanted. Who knew if she would even have a store this time next year. But she moved forward as if she would. Someone had to hold out hope.
She cranked up her Christmas music. Usually that did the trick, but not this time. Ezra’s insulting, ungrateful response to her gift rankled, more than it would had he been ugly, more than it would had she not flirted with him. “Ugh!”
The door jingled and the first six notes to “Jingle Bells” rang through the store. She switched it up, a new carol every week, but this one was her favorite for the door.
People asked her if she ever tired of Christmas. No, of course not. How could one tire of something so special, so beautiful, so full of kindness and light? Christmas made her days special every day of the year.
She finished tying a piece of ribbon and then moved out towards the front of the store.
The mayor and five of the city council members waited. The mayor called out, “Star. Just the person we hoped to see.”
She raised an eyebrow. What were they after? “Who else did you expect to see?”
“Can we talk? Sit for a moment?” He gestured toward the book nook corner, complete with children’s books, rocking chairs and bean bags.
“Of course, can I offer you hot chocolate?”
They declined the hot cocoa and each took a chair or bean bag. She hid her grin at their awkward, long, suit-clad legs finding comfortable spots on beanbags. “What can I do for you gentlemen today?”
A couple of them looked down and then at the mayor, who cleared his throat.
“What is it?”
“We’ve been talking about ways to save Main Street.”
A tiny ray of hope lit. “What? I thought all of you were in support of the plan to tear it down.”
“We are, of course, naturally, but if we could have the resort and save Main Street, that’d be the best scenario. I’m sure you agree.”
Her hope brightened. “Yes, of course. What can I do?”
“We hoped you’d see it that way.”
They watched her, waiting for something.
“I don’t unders
tand.”
The mayor adjusted his position. “Well, we have a couple things in mind. First, we are here to thank you for agreeing to chair our Festival of Trees this year.”
“Oh yes of course; it’s a natural fit. I’m happy to do it.”
“And we found a co-chair for you to help lessen the burden if needed.”
She nodded. “I didn’t even know you were looking for one. I’ll not complain, of course.”
“We have one additional request.”
“Ok.”
“It’s sort of unconventional.”
They looked uncomfortable. “What is it?”
“We were hoping you could get to know Ezra Stone.”
“Pardon me?” Blast her heart that beat faster at the thought. Her brain was shutting that idea down. “That is out of the question.”
“But Clinton said he was—how did he put it? Checking you out.”
“Ok, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you.”
“We’re serious. We want to save your store, and the one person with the supreme power to do that is Ezra Stone. A little sugar on his sour might do the man a world of good.”
“I cannot believe you just said that.”
They stood. “Give it some thought. I don’t feel like we have any other choice but to turn on all our charms and do whatever we can to bring him into the family.”
“Except that we hate him because he is trying to ruin our lives.”
“Yes, but hating him won’t change his mind, will it?”
“You want me to get close to him, hoping to change his mind?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Everything about this felt so duplicitous and wrong she longed to say no, but she saw the wisdom in trying. “How close do I have to get to him?”
“Well now, we’ll leave that part up to you. We’re looking for influence here. See what you can do.”
They all stared at her, waiting. She didn’t know what to say.
Then the mayor said, “Like I said, let it simmer for a day or two.” As they stepped to the door, he turned back to her. “We’ll see you at the Festival of Trees meeting tonight, won’t we?”
“Yes, of course.” She was still mostly speechless from their proposition. “Perhaps I’ll know more what I think about this idea then.”
They walked out in single file. “Thank you, Star. I’m sure you’ll do what’s best for our town.”
She wasn’t so sure. Her plan had been to never see Mr. Stone again.
If she did make an effort to connect with him, would she ever be able to do that unscathed? He was handsome and alluring. She worried for her heart. What heart got close to a man like Ezra Stone and remained intact?
Chapter 5
Ezra pulled into the Town Hall parking lot five minutes early for his first Festival of the Trees meeting. His father’s words echoed in his mind. The man was many things, but Ezra had never doubted his business prowess. What could have happened to put their company in jeopardy the way his father had described? Whatever it was, Ezra knew he had better close this deal. With that motivation firmly in his mind, he stepped out of the truck, repeating the mantra, “I can do this. I love Christmas.”
But he hated Christmas. The day had gifted him nothing but misery. As some sick joke, his dad had set the ground-breaking ceremony for the new construction on December 25. As much as Ezra avoided the day, his Dad filled it with as much as he could, as if to say, “Christmas isn’t about you, Eirene.” Ezra’s Mom.
He stomped his way through the front door, trying to firmly place thoughts of his mom and dad out of his mind. But the thick, sweet smell of gingerbread filled the air, reminding him of the worst Christmas of his life.
He clenched his fists, memory crowding in before he could stop it. His mom, ragged, tear stained, shouting. “You can have him, then!” She had stumbled into the hall. When she saw Ezra, her face crumpled. “Oh Ezra. I love you, son.” Then she turned the knob on the front door and walked out. He had never seen her again.
His hand gripped the door now, frozen hallway into the room. His mother’s freshly baked gingerbread cookies had gone straight to the garbage that day as his father went into a rage, chucking every bit of Christmas out of the house. From the tree to the garlands, to each of Ezra’s unwrapped gifts.
“Ezra!” Joy’s voice shook him out of his memory trance, for which he was grateful. “Will you be coming in or…?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. Just feeling a bit warm.” He forced his hand to loosen its white knuckled grip on the knob and the door shut behind him. “I didn’t know you were on this committee.”
“I’m a new recruit.” She shrugged. “We’re all meeting in there. Follow me.” She led him down a hall, through a set of thick wood double doors into a great room, with a raised podium in front, a platform and place for a set of chairs. “The council’s chambers.”
In the center of the room was the largest tree he could imagine squeezing into the space. He stepped closer, and on it were what looked like store front ornaments, replicas of the main street establishments. Message noted. They loved their Main Street.
The mayor joined him at his side. “She does such an incredible work with these trees.”
“Star?”
His nod confirmed what Ezra already knew.
“Mine is quite clever, too, I hear,” Ezra said.
Joy hmpfed. “It is. If you’d stop to take a look, you’d see just how clever.”
The mayor held out his hand, indicating the table. Each place had a plate with a cookie in front of it. Ezra groaned inwardly. “Really? Gingerbread cookies? Do we have a cup of milk to go with them?”
He knew he shouldn’t have said it with only half the sentence out, so he tried to soften it with a smile, as if he were joking. He picked up his cookie, ready to take a cringing bite.
“Sorry we don’t run things in as sophisticated a manner as you are used to, but I think you’ll find we accomplish just as much.” Star’s tone made him shake his head.
“So, you also bake the town cookies?”
“I do. These very ones in fact. You’re the first one I’ve ever heard complain.”
The mayor laughed uncomfortably. “Oh, come now, Star, he didn’t mean anything by it. Just making a joke, really. He’s never had one, so he doesn’t know what a treat they are.”
She sat down, pulling open her laptop. “No need to worry, Herald. Cookies aren’t everyone’s thing.” She eyed each person in the room. “Shall we begin?”
Ezra sat with the rest of them and pulled out a notepad. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to use it much. Every spot on the table was filled. Eight people. He had seen or talked to all of them for one thing or another. Good people. For the most part, supportive of his resort, except for Star. And she was something. The meeting carried on around him while he studied her profile, her pert nose, the lines of her neck. She had so much he admired in a woman, passion, heart.
He sat quietly, trying to blend in with his chair, which worked great. The hour passed quickly. At the very end, Mayor Lindberry stood. “Thank you, Star. You’re just the person for the job. Before we go, we’ll need to vote on a person from this committee to serve as your co-chair.”
“Like I said, I’ll not complain about the extra help, and you’ll want someone who knows the ropes to take their turn next year.”
Herald adjusted his tie. “Yes, precisely. Or even just to lighten the burden this year. So, with that in mind, I nominate Ezra Stone as the co-chair.”
“What!” Star and Ezra both leaned back in their chairs, not looking at the other.
“I second.”
Ezra scowled at Joy.
“All in favor?”
Every hand went up except for his and Star’s.
“Passed. Thank you, Ezra, for being our co-chair.”
Everyone stood, and a few shook his hand or rested a hand on his shoulder as they filed out.
At the door, Herald called
out, “We’ll want your report on the location and suggestions for the decorating group.”
When at last the room was empty except for him and Star, they sat in their chairs without speaking.
Star turned to him and sighed, “They planned the whole thing.”
“What?”
“You, on the committee, me, chair. It was all last minute. They set this up.”
“Why would they do that?”
Her face clouded, and she looked uncomfortable, but she didn’t respond. Instead she turned to look him in the face. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“You trying to kick me off?”
She turned her head. “No, but you and I both know this isn’t your thing. I don’t know how much help you will actually be.”
“I think you’ll be surprised once you get to know me.”
“No doubt that’s true.” A spark of hope lit her face and all of a sudden he wanted to see a full smile.
“So, boss, what’s our first assignment?”
She clicked her laptop closed. And sighed. He could tell she really was not looking forward to working with him. Perhaps if he stopped insulting her, he might get further along.
She lifted her shoulders and turned to him, the open expression on her face a hopeful surprise to Ezra. “This will work well, I think. I’ve been thinking how I might get to know you better.”
“You have?” He wasn’t sure why the sudden change from cold to warm.
She placed her hands on the table, as if preparing to say something difficult. “Yes. I may have misjudged you.”
He figured that she probably had him accurately pegged. But he wasn’t going to argue the point. “My offer stands. Dinner any time.”
“I wasn’t suggesting a date. My intent is more in line with pleasant working relationship.”
“Oh, right. OK, well, that works great for me as well.” He would work on her. She would have to warm to him sometime, especially when she saw how helpful he could be on her committee. Proving his continued loyalty in Sanders Corners, his commitment to old traditions, was as important to these people as their store fronts.
Taming Scrooge Page 2