by Laura Briggs
*****
Simon Harte adjusted his paisley tie and checked the dressing room mirror for any final traces of makeup. One of the biggest downsides of working in television as a guy—especially if he forgot to remove it before leaving the station. He grinned as a particular incident involving meeting one his fans at the airport flashed through his mind.
The sound of White Christmas echoed from his radio’s speakers and he whistled along. In ten minutes, he would join Mayor Douglas for an impromptu lunch at the Shooting Star. Why, he couldn’t imagine, though his station manager Jerry hinted it was something big. “You won‘t be disappointed by the news,” he promised, thumping Simon with his clipboard in the studio before air time.
A knock sounded on the door just as he reached for his coat. “It’s open,” he called, flipping the off switch on the radio. Thinking of the irony that the holidays left no time for seasonal cheer between the cameras and conversation.
“The mayor’s car is here for you.” The voice belonged to his co-host, Andrea Bates, a tall brunette with a luminous smile that smacked of whitening strips. Married to KTRP’s chief weatherman, she considered herself part of a power couple—and barely concealed her dislike for sharing the spotlight with Simon. Right now, her face wore a knowing little smile that sparked his suspicion.
“Why the smirk?” he asked, fishing a wool scarf from his briefcase. “Should I assume you and Brian cooked up something brilliant for the show?”
She merely grinned, showing off her immaculate teeth. “You’ll see.” With those ominous words, she turned on her stilettos and disappeared into the hall.
Leaving him full of curiosity and just slightly worried. Andrea and Brian wouldn’t mind if he got forced into a bad reporting gig, the kind that left a black mark on one’s career for a lifetime. But Jerry would never let that happen, right?
The ten minute drive to the restaurant didn’t give him much time to wonder. His old friend, Mayor Douglas rose from the window table, greeting him with a smile and a pat on the back. “Have a seat Simon. I caught the show this morning. Great zingers, as always.”
Simon grinned. “Hey, it’s all in the script.” Not exactly true, given Brian and Andrea’s knack for exposing themselves to ridicule.
The waitress arrived and took their orders, Simon choosing to go with a glass of wine and a light chicken salad. Until he knew the mayor’s news, he couldn’t summon the appetite for a big dinner.
As soon as the waitress disappeared, the mayor turned to business. “I can see you’re curious about this meeting, so I’ll cut right to the chase—I’ve chosen you as a host for the annual Silver Star Christmas Parade.”
Simon widened his eyes, surprise conquering the smooth persona he prided himself on. “Wow…” he murmured in response, running a hand through his hair with a sense of relief and elation. Silver Star’s annual Christmas parade was nothing short of local legend—something that confirmed his celebrity and fulfilled a personal dream all in one swoop.
“I thought you’d like that.” The mayor chuckled and motioned for the waitress to refill his glass. “Jerry said you’d jump at the chance.”
“I’m honored,” Simon answered. “I loved that parade as a kid. Especially the costumed characters. You know, the Wizard of Oz and Peter Pan.”
The mayor nodded in a way that told Simon he wasn’t really listening. “Of course, I had to round up a second spot. Someone more local, you know. But the radio station was more than willing to lend one of their own as a co-host.”
“Really? Who’d they recommend?” He raised his glass of water.
“Actually, it’s your old morning rush hour partner. Rae Randall.”
He choked on the water, coughing and hacking as he buried his face in a napkin. This had to be a nightmare. Or else Santa’s way of putting an early chunk of coal in his stocking.
“You okay?” asked Mayor Douglas, reassured only by Simon’s nods.
“Fine,” Simon answered hoarsely, which the mayor took as his cue to continue.
“You and Rae were so good together ... not to mention you’ve got a history with the town because of it. I just couldn’t resist the opportunity for you two to share a mike again.”
“Yeah, well …” Simon trailed off, incapable of finishing the sentence with anything that wasn’t a groan of pain. Overwhelmed by the fact he was once again paired with Rae Randall, the Ice Princess of Silver Star, Connecticut. He had a long list of reasons for never seeing her again, not the least of which was the frigid stare in those jade eyes whenever he was in sight.
Smart, talented, and undeniably gorgeous—but just thinking about her sent a shiver up his spine. And even though he would never, ever admit it, he wasn’t sure it was entirely because of her frigid personality.
Appetite gone, he toyed with his food as he listened to Mayor Douglas rattle off plans for the parade. Be a grownup and take your medicine. How bad could it be? It was just an hour spent in front of the camera, reading from scripts. It wasn’t exactly quality time, nor was there any need for one-on-one conversation that wasn’t already on paper.
“So, when can you review your schedule and get back to us about the commercial?” asked Mayor Douglas.
Simon’s train of thought returned to the station at once. “Commercial?” he repeated. The astonishment in his voice went unnoticed.
“You know, for promotion?” The mayor smiled. “We’ll need to coordinate you two for all the public appearances, the PR campaign, and so on. You guys have a lot of work to do together for the parade, you know.”
“Public appearances,” Simon echoed, weakly. “Of course. I’ll send your office a schedule of free time this week.” Inside, he felt as if his chest was squeezed by a giant squid.
“Sounds perfect,” the mayor answered. “This is gonna be quite an event. I wouldn’t miss it for a million dollars.”
Simon could barely repress the bitterness in his tone. “Me neither.”
*****
“Hold the smile guys. Keep holding it. Just a few more seconds…”
Rae resisted the urge to jerk her hand free from Simon’s strong grasp. The camera man was taking his sweet time with the newspaper photo and her fake smile wore thinner by the second. Simon kept his face angled away from hers, but she could swear she saw a glint of sarcasm in his hazel eyes.
All around them, the Silver Star Theater Auditorium had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Styrofoam candy canes and lollipops formed a path to a giant North Pole sign fashioned from gum drops. An old-fashioned sleigh waited on stage for the commercial shoot—another nightmare in the making—and various crew members strolled around in snowmen and reindeer costumes.
Snap! The camera flashed twice and left Rae blinking against a blur of yellow light. Yanking her hand free, she pulled away from Simon’s body, only to stumble smack into a candy cane decoration.
“Whoa, slow down there,” Simon remarked sarcastically. “You’ll wreck the North Pole.”
She glared at him as she stuffed the decoration back into a phony pile of snow. “You would enjoy that, I bet. Seeing me humiliated in front of all these cameras.”
“I’m pretty sure that kind of talk is banned in Christmas town.” He studied her with raised eyebrows and a resigned expression. “Why don’t you loosen up? We still have a commercial to shoot and it’s not easy getting in the holiday spirit when you’re co-host looks like she wants to strangle you.”
“Let’s hope you’re a good actor, then.” She smoothed her winter wonderland outfit, a white prom dress from the cheap rack complete with boots and a shawl. Her curls were pinned back with sparkly star-shaped barrettes that pricked her scalp.
Simon, of course, looked dapper and carefree in a winter suit, a brilliant red scarf tossed casually over his broad shoulders. So unfair. The fact that he seemed so nonchalant about the whole event left her squirming with envy. He should be the one writhing with discomfort, given the circumstances that ended their partnership.
/> “I can’t believe the mayor thought this was a good idea,” Rae said, tying her shawl closed in an effort to hide the hideous costume. “I mean, Christmas parades are about celebrating love and peace. There’s no way the two of us can pull that off.”
An amused smile crept across Simon’s face. “Same old Rae. Afraid of a challenge, afraid of losing.”
Seriously? You as a challenge? She wrapped her hands around the candy cane, imaging it was his neck. “Just what is that supposed to mean, Mr. Morning Coffee? Do they even bother with a script for that show, or does your meaningless banter come naturally? That would be a miracle, considering what we had to go through on the morning show.”
“Oh, please.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard your new co-host a few times. You could get a stuffed bear to sit in for that kind of commentary.”
“That’s it.” She hitched her skirt and turned to leave. “Have a nice time hosting the parade alone.” Let his perky TV hostess take this kind of abuse for the holiday season.
“Hey, wait a second.” Simon caught her elbow. The coolness in his dark eyes melted a little. “This is no picnic for either of us. But if we just put aside our mutual hatred for a couple of hours it’ll be over. Remember, we’re doing this for a good cause. ”
She bit her lip and looked away. There was no arguing with his point: the proceeds from the parade tickets were slated to go to the local children’s hospital. The previous year had been the nursing home, and the animal shelter the year before that.
“You’re right.” She glanced up from her snow boots and forced her lips into a tight smile. “We are two grown people after all. Perfectly capable of working together for a worthy cause.”
“Glad to hear it.” He patted her shoulder. “So no more drama queen stuff, right?”
Drama queen? She opened her mouth to fire back, but a crewmember interrupted, armed with a clipboard. “Let’s climb into the sleigh, guys. The director wants to see a read through for the commercial.”
A nervous tingle invaded her mouth and she stole a glance in Simon’s direction. Probably the hotshot TV anchorman wasn’t tense at all at the thought of a lens trained on him like a giant staring eye. Her only consolation was that he didn’t look any happier than she felt. Maybe they had more in common than she realized.
Climbing into the sleigh was no easy task with the gauzy outer layer of her skirt snagging on a jingle bell and every possible sharp corner. Simon extended a hand but she pretended not to notice. If he thought those remarks about her fear of confrontation were water under the bridge, he had another thing coming. She managed to cram herself into the seat, where Simon tucked the flannel blanket over her knees.
A cocky smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Close quarters, huh?”
“Too close.” She turned her face away, afraid he would see the slight flush in her cheeks. And interpret it as something other than a simple case of stage fright.
“Just like old times, Rae.” His voice was quiet with an unexpected note of bitterness. “That radio booth was always too small for us. I guess this parade is too.”
She kept silent as she flipped open her script. “Let’s just get this over with.”
*****
Simon groaned as the director yelled “Cut!” for the fifth time. He and Rae had been stuck in this sleigh for nearly an hour, pretending to pass floats from Christmas parades past. The archive footage would be spliced in later, so all they had to stare at was a color screen and a shower of fake snow.
It was anyone’s guess how many more takes they could do this without coming to blows.
The director, a former station manager named Art, sent them a frown and scratched his head. “I’m sensing some distance between the two of you. We need to fix that, show a little human connection or something.”
Tell me about it. He didn’t dare glance at Rae, afraid some of that distance might be visible in her face right now. Unless the director had some magic fairy dust on hand, there was no quick solution.
Art broke into an inspired grin. “Here’s a thought. At the point where the sleigh is supposed to drive by the float with Scrooge and Jacob Marley’s ghost, Rae could look scared and dive in your arms.”
“Um…” Simon turned slowly in Rae’s direction. She looked scared all right, but it wasn’t due to any ghostly apparitions. Was the mere thought of being in his arms enough to send chills up her spine? She was looking as if Art suggested she embrace a giant lizard or maybe Frankenstein’s monster.
“What’s the problem?” Art snapped, seeing Rae’s eyes roll. “It’s exactly the kind of cutesy thing people expect from this sort of ad. We’re doing this, got it?”
“There’s no way I’m doing this,” Rae whispered, her face pale as her winter costume. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”
At that moment, she could have easily passed for the damsel in distress. Beautiful, anxious, vulnerable. His combative edge vanished like a fresh snowflake as he fought the urge to defend her. Ironic, considering the reason she was upset.
“Just pretend I’m someone else,” he urged in a soothing voice. “Some dashing, heroic guy like Zorro or James Bond.”
A smile flickered across her face, the first he’d seen since they arrived that morning. “I don’t think my imagination is active enough to pull it off.”
“Okay then. Pretend you’re running from a monster. One with fangs and a set of claws that rival Edward Scissor Hands.”
“I’d have to be, wouldn’t I?” The words were harsh but the tone was unmistakably playful. Could it be that Rae Randall was warming just a little to his friendly persuasion?
He let his own smile crawl back in place. “Whatever it takes. Let’s just get this commercial done, all right?”
“All right. After all, it’s just acting.” Her voice carried a nervous tremor despite her outward disgust. She squared her shoulders and blew a stray strand of hair from her green eyes.
He cleared his throat and glanced away. Aware that he didn’t have a smart comeback line. And for once he didn’t care.
“Action!” Art yelled, prompting Simon to move. In the back of his mind, he knew each line brought him closer to embracing his former co-host, a gesture of familiarity he and Rae never showed each other in their two years together.
Well, almost never. Which was part of the problem.
When the moment came, Rae took her cue and dove against his chest with a squeal of fright. Her honey-colored hair felt soft and warm against his cheek. His pulse thudded in his ears as he wrapped a protective arm across her shoulders and held her tight.
A whiff of strawberry reminded him how she used to comb a little perfume through her hair on days she had a big date planned. Was she still dating stuffed suits or had she decided to take a chance on someone more adventurous?
“Cut!” The director’s words echoed through the spacious auditorium and cut through Simon’s memories.
An instant later, Rae had moved back to her side of the sleigh. Cheeks red, she covered her awkward appearance by smoothing her tousled hair. He thought he detected a tremor in her fingers, but it could have been his own rattled emotions playing tricks on his mind.
“Good job, kids.” Art’s eyes were focused on the monitor, watching playback of the footage. “That’s a wrap.”
“Great,” said Rae, adjusting her rumpled skirt. “We‘ve just given audiences another reason not to eat in front of the TV.”
And, we’re back. Simon frowned, wishing their one moment of partnership had outlasted the two minutes it took to film it. “Could have been worse, right?” he suggested, trying to gauge her feelings about the brief embrace.
She shrugged and turned towards the backstage area. “It’s over; that’s what counts. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get out of this winter warlock costume.” Without waiting for his retort, she stalked away to the dressing room.
He closed his eyes briefly, wondering if their spark of chemistry had been just that—a spark.
The kind easily smothered by a mountain of personal and professional conflict. One thing was certain: it was going to take a lot more than a fake hug to melt the friction between himself and Rae Randell.
*****
“Don’t look!”
Rae leaped forward in an effort to block Tippy’s view of the TV—and more importantly the commercial for the parade. The two of them were putting the decorations up in the station break room. The afternoon movie from KTRP, Christmas In Connecticut, murmured in the background. And then smack in the middle of the holiday cheer came the image of herself and Simon on a pretend sleigh ride.
“Oh, my gosh!” Tippy snorted with laughter as the cheesy footage rolled across the screen. Then let out a shriek of mirth as the infamous hug flashed before their eyes.
“Shut up,” Rae said, pushing the “off” button on the remote. Her face flaming with a mixture of embarrassment and confusion. No doubt Tippy’s wild imagination would twist this little scenario into a plotline fit for a soap opera.
“Looks like you and Simon picked up right where you left off.” Her producer grinned knowingly as she unsnarled a string of half-dead twinkle lights. “The chemistry between you two practically leaps off the screen.”
“Whatever.” Rae fiddled with her half-empty cup of hot chocolate, the swirling liquid reminding her of Simon’s dark eyes. Why did he act like a jerk one moment, then turn charming and helpful when she least expected it? He could have made the scene in the sleigh ten times more awkward if he wanted to. So why did he pass on the perfect opportunity to make her miserable?
“Earth to Rae.” Tippy pushed a cardboard box full of tinsel and old Christmas cards in front of her. “There’s no time for daydreaming if you’re filling in for Dr. Rick’s show this afternoon. Although I can’t blame you,” she teased, “seeing as how Simon’s as smoldering as ever in the looks department.”