Neither spoke for a minute or two.
Finally, Amanda stood and walked to the white board. “December’s locked down thanks to both of the balls.”
First up, on December seventeenth, the Daughters of Montana were holding a gala ball to raise money for the long-overdue courthouse restoration. To the sponsor’s surprise and joy, a real-life prince was supposed to be present. One of those kismet things that made ticket sales go through the roof. And she’d heard great feedback on ticket sales for the second annual Big Sky Mavericks Masked Ball, too. Probably didn’t hurt that New Year’s Eve fell on a Saturday this year.
“January looks a bit anemic at the moment,” Amanda said, “but Tucker wants to give us a large stipend to kick-start planning for the zip line and adventure course advertising. It will be a tax write-off for him and a nice cushion for us.”
Krista discreetly peeled off her ruined pantyhose then joined Amanda to study their future—Krista’s future, since Amanda had another agenda. Change happens. They weren’t the same girls who worked for the New York ad agency from hell, bonded over Cosmos and dry martinis, and plunged into this great adventure on a wing and a prayer. Happily-ever-after with a side serving of kids never entered into their conversations.
Amanda turned, arms crossed. “Remember how business picked up last January? We were scrambling like crazy. If that happens again, you’ll be swamped. So, I was thinking… what if we bring in an associate to take my place for the coming year? I’ll move my desk into the back corner of the conference room. We could offer my replacement a junior partnership incentive bonus if he or she performs to whatever level we set. By the time I come back, we should have enough business to make it worth both our whiles to keep on the new person.”
“Do you have anyone in mind?”
Amanda tilted her head thoughtfully. “Sort of. At the Zabrinski’s big Thanksgiving get-together, the pastor from Paradise…what’s her name?” She rolled her eyes and groaned. “I can’t blame this on baby brain, yet, can I?”
Krista smiled. “Why not?”
“It’ll come to me in a min…Samantha Zabrinski. Pastor Sam. That’s it. She has a younger sister who is a communications major and wants to take off a semester or two to intern in the field before she commits. If we catch a young one, we can train her our way.”
Krista let out a sigh of relief. As usual, her high drama childhood had made her expect the worst. “I like that idea. This sounds doable.”
Amanda rushed to hug her. “I’m so happy to hear you say that. Tucker’s been a nervous wreck.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t know you the way I do. He was afraid you might get pissed off and quit. I made all these big promises to get you to move to Montana and go into business with me then promptly get married and pregnant and leave you with all the work.” Amanda glanced at the framed wedding photo on her desk. “He wanted to come in with me for moral support.”
That sounded like Tucker. Krista envied how protective and supportive Tucker seemed of his wife. Unfortunately, the last man Krista had considered a serious contender for her heart had proven exactly how easy she was to fool.
The last time they’d spoken when she’d dropped off the few things he’d left in her apartment, she’d told him about Amanda’s job offer. “Are you nuts? People move to places like Montana to retire or die, Krista. You’re turning your back on the kind of opportunity and connections most people in this town would kill for.” That she’d walked away with so few tears or regrets probably said more about her than him.
“Make us some tea while I change,” Krista said as she headed to the small private restroom where she kept a gym bag and a change of clothes. “Then you can tell me about this mysterious group where you apparently serve as a board member. Next I’ll hear you’re an eighteenth degree Mason or pillar of the Illuminati.”
Amanda’s peal of laughter eased the remaining tension Krista hadn’t been able to shake. She pulled on black yoga pants, a Blue Sky t-shirt, socks, and sneakers, and then touched up her hair and makeup. As she reapplied her lip gloss, she recalled being licked by the small brown and white dog.
“What a crazy morning,” she murmured to her reflection.
The real crazy was the fact she hadn’t been able to stop playing the whole scene over and over in her head—especially the part where Jonah Andrews took her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes for what felt like forever. She couldn’t shake the sense they’d shared something deep and intriguing—even though she had no intention of seeking him out. Especially not now. Amanda’s news meant Krista’s mostly nonexistent social life was going even further on the back burner. She’d come too far and put too much of herself into their business to let it go under.
Amanda carried two mugs to Krista’s desk. “You look warmer. How did you break your heel? Slipping on the ice?”
“I was felled by a beagle.”
She had them both laughing as she recalled the free-for-all in front of the chocolate shop.
“The lady in the cowboy hat has to be Em McCullough,” Amanda said. “She’s a true original.”
Krista half-listened as Amanda talked about the older woman’s colorful past—from a stint with the Rockettes on Broadway to a rancher’s wife in Montana. Her brain kept returning to the amused look in the eyes of the handsome stranger.
“Do you know someone named Jonah Andrews?” She hoped her casual tone hid the full extent of her interest.
Amanda dropped her gaze to her mug as she slowly stirred the spoon. “Hmmm. Funny you should ask.”
“Funny how?”
“He’s been recruited to head Montana Secret Santa Society, the volunteer group I helped out last year. I didn’t do much—mostly website infrastructure and a new logo. But they were so grateful they voted to add my name to the board of directors, even though I’ve never attended a formal meeting. But I fully support their work.”
“Which is…”
“To provide a little Santa love to people who might have fallen through society’s cracks. They’re the real deal—grassroots, one-on-one, old-school giving. And, from what Em told me, they’re in a real pinch now. Apparently, their membership has been dying off. Literally. Most of the members are retired or semiretired professionals. Many have been active in the group for twenty-plus years. They meet at the chocolate shop.”
Krista groaned and poked the tiny roll at the top of her waistband. “Just what I need—an excuse to hang out at Sage’s. In the month since I started trying to woo her business, I’ve gained five pounds.”
Amanda snickered, nodding sympathetically. “I told you Sage wasn’t going to be an easy sell when it came to expanding her base. But I’d hoped all the new sales tactics she’s been trying, like hosting cooking classes and wine and chocolate pairings, meant she’d be open to your ideas.”
Krista shrugged. Sage had made it clear that she preferred to remain a local boutique chocolatier rather than sacrifice the quality she’d built her reputation on. Without an affordable packaging system that kept the chocolate at a perfect temperature from shop to door, the Copper Mountain chocolates Krista considered pure genius would never go global.
She pushed the problem out of her head when Amanda said, “I told them I’d help again this year, but that was before my doctor said I had to cut back on everything. So… I’m hoping—praying, actually—that you’ll take my place.”
“In the Montana Secret Santa Society,” Krista said in a staged whisper. She groaned and put the back of her hand to her forehead for dramatic effect. “You know Christmas is my least favorite holiday, right? And the only secret Santa gift exchange I’ve ever been part of was at Bainbridge-Smyth. Remember what Ben Whatshisname gave you? A fluorescent pink dildo?”
Amanda made a face. “Montana Secret Santa is nothing like that. This group does good work. Entirely volunteer from-the-heart stuff. They use donations to fulfill wishes for people who are nominated by friends, family members, or coworkers. The person
who does the nominating is never revealed, hence, the secret side of it.”
Krista nodded and smiled, doing her best to appear supportive, but skepticism ran deep in her veins—probably from living with actors her whole life.
“It’s totally legit,” Amanda insisted, obviously not buying Krista’s pretense. “Historically, they’ve relied on word of mouth for donations and wishes. Unfortunately, since a lot of our social interaction in general has moved online, Montana Secret Santa was a bit slow to get the memo. Last year, the website I set up for them helped, but they’re not the type of people who use Twitter. And Facebook is more about cute cat photos than promo.”
“Where does Jonah Andrews come in? He’s too young to be retired.”
Amanda studied her a minute. “Are you serious? I thought you were being coy when you said his name earlier. You really don’t know who Jonah Andrews is?”
Jonah Andrews. “The name sounds familiar.”
“Wa-L-dot-com?”
Krista blinked as her brain made the connection. “Are you kidding me? Didn’t he just sell his company for a gazillion dollars? What’s he doing in Marietta, Montana?”
“Dog-sitting for his parents while they go to Florida to help Jonah’s sister, who lost her husband in an accident. She has a couple of kids and this will be the family’s first Christmas without him.” She blinked faster. “Sorry. The idea of facing a holiday without Tucker…” Tears burst from her eyes and she groped blindly at the pockets of her wool cardigan.
Krista held out a box of tissues.
Amanda grabbed one and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “Damn. Hormones don’t play fair. They ambush with no warning.”
Krista struggled to process the change in her friend. Back in New York, their coworkers had regarded Amanda as haughty and unapproachable. “Born with a silver spoon up her ass,” a fellow employee once said.
Amanda took a big breath. “Jonah has agreed to fill in for his folks with Secret Santa, too. His parents have been involved for years.”
Krista searched her memory for any image of the reportedly camera-shy Silicon Valley wunderkind. She started to reach for her mouse to do a search, but Amanda stopped her. “I’ll send you my links. I did a full background check. Born and raised in Marietta. Scholarship to MIT. Sold his first start-up for a million and change. Wa-L is success number two or three, I think.”
“What does any of this have to do with Blue Sky?”
“First off, this is a small town. Every secret has legs. By volunteering, we earn street cred.” The word made Krista snicker. Amanda ignored her and went on. “And more importantly, if word got out that Secret Santa died because we didn’t think it was worth our time and effort…”
“But we’re not locals. This isn’t our fight.”
“We live here. And you know what a big deal Christmas is in Marietta. Remember last year? The stroll. The hot cocoa and ice-skating on Miracle Lake. The hay rides—”
Krista cut her off. “The whole thing had Currier and Ives written all over it. That’s why I caught a flight to LA the morning after my inaugural stroll. For a reality check,” she added facetiously.
“To spend the holiday with your mother.”
The impression Krista had wanted everyone to believe. In fact, her mother had been on location with her production company filming a movie. Mom had promised to make it up to her this year. Like that was going to happen.
“I know you told me this is your year to spend the holidays with your dad, but most of the Secret Santa work has to be done by the twentieth, so you still can fly to New York in time to be with your family.”
Family. Amanda had no idea what that word meant in Krista’s world. Long flights between parents on opposite sides of the country. Playing the role of peacemaker, always balancing Mom and Dad to avoid showing favoritism. Where massive egos were concerned, the smallest slight could take years to overcome.
“What are you thinking? Will you fill in for me? What’s the worst that could happen? You make friends with one of the most innovative thinkers in the country. Maybe you can pick his brain about how to ship truffles.”
The thought had crossed Krista’s mind but immediately thinking about how someone could be of benefit to her career sounded too much like her mother’s MO for Krista’s taste.
She studied the calendars. “We have enough billable hours booked to keep Blue Sky solvent through the end of January. And I agree we’d gain some positive name recognition from being associated with a venerable local charity. Getting Jonah Andrews to invent a new packaging system for chocolate seems like a long shot but, hey, it can’t hurt to have a boy genius on our side. Maybe he’ll hire us to promote his next big idea.”
Amanda clapped silently and mouthed thank you. “I have to call Em and let her know you’re onboard.”
Krista took a sip of lukewarm tea as she checked her email. Nine new messages in her family mailbox. Five from Mom, four from Dad.
Let the holiday tug-of-war begin.
“Don’t forget to send me those links to Jonah Andrews, Amanda.” Krista needed a distraction. Badly.
*
“For a guy who has everything—fame, fortune, and all the bells and whistles associated with success, you sure look down in the mouth. What’s going on, son?”
Dad. The observant one.
He’d heard his parents come home but hadn’t worked up the energy to get up and go into the kitchen to greet them.
“Just trying to figure out my new routine.” Jonah had collapsed on the couch in the living room with all three of his charges after their walk. He reached out and scratched behind Bear’s ears. The dog was cuter than shit but he snored.
Dad walked to the fireplace. In profile, his father seemed not to have aged at all, only the pure white hair—still thick and wavy—spoke to his times around the sun. Seventy, next month. Taller than Jonah by a couple of inches and nearly the same weight, Dad’s gait wasn’t as spry as it had been. The years of coaching basketball had taken a toll on his knees, but his orthopedic surgeon credited the exercise as keeping Dad out of the OR for as long as it had.
Jonah saw him wince when he reached for a log to add to the fire.
“Let me, Dad.”
He sprang to his feet, causing Bear to groan in protest. Dad took Jonah’s place on the couch to give the dog a pet. “I’m gonna miss you the most, Bear. I fully expect you to keep the other dogs in line until I get home. Do you understand?”
Jonah smiled. He called the serious tone Dad’s teacher voice. Jonah and his siblings knew they were in trouble when Teacher Dad showed up to a talk.
He opened the door on the wood-burning stove that had been added to the fireplace opening many years back to burn more efficiently and reduce emissions. The heat felt good on his face but it reminded him of the blush he’d experienced while talking with Krista Martin. Was the reason he couldn’t get her off his mind simple boredom? Meeting her was the most interesting thing that had happened to him since he got here.
“I thought you planned on catching up on your reading,” Dad said, pulling the little dog onto his lap to give Bear a full belly rub.
Jonah made note of the blissful look on Bear’s face.
“I haven’t opened a book or turned on my e-reader since I got here. I don’t know why.” Lethargy was not part of his normal routine and the fact he felt so lazy had him a little worried.
“You’re still adjusting and acclimating. You haven’t wintered here in a long time. Don’t fret. You’ll find a routine. What would you be doing if you were still working?”
“I liked to be in my office by six. By the time the rest of the office staff trickled in I’d probably have answered three or four dozen emails.” In three languages. Plus, put out a couple of fires on the production line. Arbitrated an ongoing labor dispute. And assessed a threat level red security issue. “Today, I slept till eight then took the dogs for a walk.”
Bear lifted his head at the word.
“How�
�d that go?” Dad asked, his tone confirming for Jonah that his parents had heard about his run-in with Krista Martin several times over.
“Just fine. Other than the fact Bindi managed to knock over a pretty girl who was in a hurry to get to work. Oh, and then Mrs. McCullough informed me I’m on tap to be the next president of the Montana Secret Santa Society.”
Dad had the grace to look away sheepishly.
“When did you plan to tell me? As you backed out of the driveway?”
“Bettina, can you come in here please? I told you he wasn’t going to be a pushover.”
Mom, who at sixty-eight still had the hearing of a fourth-grade teacher, walked into the room wiping her hands with a kitchen towel. Everyone said Mom looked just like Charlotte Rampling, an actress-turned-cosmetics-spokesperson. “Nobody’s making you do anything, Jonah. Retirement can be a challenging adjustment. Particularly for men. Just ask your father.”
Dad nodded solemnly. “Your mom breezed through the transition as if stopping teaching after nearly thirty years was nothing.” He made an offhand gesture that caught Bindi’s attention. She immediately hopped to his side, which made River Jack lumber to his feet and press in close for a share of attention. “I used to say they’d have to pry my whistle out of my cold, dead hand on the basketball court, but here I am…packed and ready to snowbird off to Florida.”
He gave his wife a woeful look. “Florida. Can you get more conventional than that?”
“You’re pushing seventy, Dad. You knew this day was coming. I’m thirty-five.”
“But in your case, we both know this is temporary. You’ve worked hard and now you’re entitled to a break.” Dad leaned over and took River Jack’s head in his hands. “And the dogs aren’t going to let you sit on your butt and veg. Are you, boy?”
Jack licked his master’s face, eliciting a laugh from both of Jonah’s parents.
Mom walked to the sofa and took the empty spot beside her husband. “You’re doing us a huge favor, son. There’s no way we could turn around and put this poor guy back in a kennel while we took off for Florida. Did I tell you he was at the shelter for over five months?” She shook her head. “He has the sweetest soul, but people couldn’t see past his weight. Everyone seems to want young and athletic dogs to fit their lifestyles, I guess.”
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