“Like buying a mammoth Christmas tree? And by mammoth, I mean it’s the size tree a woolly mammoth would choose.”
I glared at him. Or, at least, tried. Maintaining a good glare while eating a delicious bear claw with sugar-coated pop music overhead proved challenging.
He sat back, taking another drink. I preferred to let mine cool off. I brought the flat white to my lips. Not bad.
“Good?”
“It’s good.”
“So, the City Girl is impressed by something the country made.”
“Hey, I said the mayor’s mansion was beautiful.”
“I’ll give you that.”
“I couldn’t ever live here, but it’s nice to visit.” I let my gaze wander to the window and the street buzzing with shoppers. This was the type of town you escaped to for the weekend, if you had the kind of job or money offering a chance to escape. For me, I worked weekends. I served the regulars looking to relax from their own jobs.
“Do you like it? Living in the city?”
“I love it,” I answered immediately.
“What do you love so much?”
I ran my finger over the smooth, warm cup. “Everything I could want is nearby. All the good bands come through Chicago. Theater shows, art galleries.”
“Us cow-hards don’t know nothin’ about no art.”
I snorted. “Cow-hard? What is that?”
“I guess it’s a cross between a Fail Hard and…a cow.”
Call me a sucker but his dopey comment and genuine grin gave him an infectious charisma I couldn’t ignore.
“So, you go to a lot of gallery shows?” he asked. “Concerts?”
I loved both, but I hadn’t done much beyond work the past year. I’d been focused on getting my own apartment. No more roommates, a personal goal of mine. Working up to store manager was my next goal, which required taking on extra shifts and responsibilities. Work that would eventually pay off. “Sometimes. I work a lot.”
“And you like your job?”
A question with an easy answer. “I do. I love it.”
“What do you love about the cafe? What’s it called?”
“It’s called Drip.”
“Drip. That is so city.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I suppose so. But look, we’re at Main Street Sweets. On Main Street. That’s about as on-brand small town as it gets.”
“Sometimes simple is best.”
He had me there. “I’m good at making the drinks and it feels different a lot of days, depending what we have going on. We rent out our space for parties and book live music on weekends.”
“That sounds fun. Stuff shuts down pretty early out here, except for Checkers and that’s outside of Crystal Cove proper. You can’t buy alcohol here after six p.m.”
“No.” I slammed my hand against the table, causing an older man with glasses on a chain to frown my way. “Oops. Sorry, that was…I mean, I’m not much of a drinker to care.” I was embarrassing myself.
Nick was looking at me with this weirdly rosy glow in his cheeks.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. You’re funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to… Anyway. Hey, let’s see if the gift shop has your stuff. Then you can tell me all about your awesome job and living in Small Town, Corner of Illinois, USA.”
Outside, Main Street wasn’t any less busy, but the gift shop no longer had a line. Nick handled his business, and the store staff led us into the back room. Two large boxes held tasteful silver and red decor. Ornaments, boughs of greens, ribbons and little decorative wreaths. Simple, standard decorations.
Nick slid the two boxes close to the back door. “It’s a good thing you’re here or this would have taken two trips.”
“You think I’m carrying one of those?”
For a moment, Nick’s expression flickered. Gone was the joker teasing about cows, replaced by a heavier mood.
“I’m kidding.” I lifted the box. “I’ll carry one.”
“If it’s too much, I can come back. You don’t really have to help me.”
“I’m already holding the box. I’m here to help.”
He opened the door, held it open with his foot, and grabbed the second box. “Your mom sort of orchestrated this. Don’t feel obligated.”
I had stolen the charity tree. Stolen by paying for it, but still. “Just so you know, I do Pilates. I’m lean underneath these layers.”
Nick’s cheeks tinged rosy again and I grinned. So, flirty comments got to him. Check and check.
Chapter 9
Nick
We trudged uphill toward the mayor’s mansion, Megan and I each carrying a box of decorations. Megan had to be regretting her offer to help me by now. I should have enlisted Austin and my buddies for the grunt work.
She seemed to barely break a sweat. “So, what do you like about your job? It’s your family’s printing company, right?”
“Yeah.” I let her walk ahead. “How about you tell me more about living in Chicago.”
“Um, sure. Never cross the street in front of a bus because they will run you down. It’s annoying running errands downtown because of tourists. They stand in the middle of the street and gawk at everything.” She slowed, shifted the box in her arms, and kept going. “Pro-tip: if you want to take in a city view or look up at some cool buildings, step to the side of the sidewalk first.”
“The More You Know. Roger that—no gawking unless you pull over.”
“For real, though. What’s your job like? Can you make your own hours since it’s your family’s business?”
The box I carried grew heavier with each step. “Sort of. I mean, I’m here doing this instead of at the shop.”
“Do you design anything? I guess I don’t know much about what a print shop does.”
“We do a lot of commercial orders. We aren’t into the design part, but we can help customers choose the best format for their print jobs. I’m more interested in making our business efficient. Modernizing. Looking at greener options that reduce waste. This has to be boring for you.”
“I asked. I’m curious. That’s great that you can see your family business in a new light.”
Except nothing about working for the family business felt new at all. Talking to Megan about my life in Crystal Cove reminded me of talking with classmates who’d left for good after high school. Their Instagrams showed them in cool places like Portland or Denver or Miami. Jobs as sports team trainers, web developers, a doctor in residency. Then me, a graduate with a business degree from UW-Madison, and I came right back home to get handed a job at the family company. My life was Crystal Cove, and the entire town limits could be seen from the top of this hill.
Finally, we reached the mansion’s front porch. I set my box on the worn step and slid open the door.
Warm air shot through and the retro Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree blasted from a portable stereo on the staircase facing the entry.
When little kids saw a mall Santa or a pile of presents with their name on it, that was Megan’s face right now. “Wow, it’s gorgeous in here. Cozy for a mansion.”
“I thought you didn’t like Christmas?”
She tried glaring at me, but the bite never showed. She looked cuter than ever.
Jill had gotten to work arranging greens along the polished wood staircase banister, with some winter-looking flowers displayed in vases on tables. A rolled-up red carpet stood on its end by the door.
“Incoming.” Megan tapped her phone. “My mom is asking my ETA. I’m going to tell her it will be awhile. She can get me on her way to the airport to pick up my brother.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m going to help you.”
The room shrank as her words hit. Accepting her help didn’t feel right. “It’s only these two boxes. I’ll be fine.”
Instead of answering, she texted with fast fingers. “Done. She’ll check in with me on her way out.” She smiled brightly.
“I like you being here,” I paused, not sure I should have said as much. “But not if it means stealing your time away from your family.”
She gave me a look translating to, Wrong again, dummy. “You said it yourself, my mom is the one who pushed us into hanging out. Besides, I spent plenty of time at House of Stu last night.”
“You mean your mom’s house. The Krueger house.”
She flinched. “Sure. My small-town hideaway whenever I need an escape.”
Funny that anyone saw Crystal Cove as an escape. This town held me in. Held me back.
“Okay. Give me the tour.” She gestured to the surrounding room.
“You want a tour?”
“Of the mayor’s mansion by the mayor’s son? How could I refuse?”
“You can’t usually refuse something that isn’t offered.” It sounded meaner than I meant. She bit her lip. Oh man, now I couldn’t refuse. “I’ll show you around.”
I made for a sucky tour guide, but Megan didn’t seem to mind. I answered her questions the best I could. When was the mansion built—1899. Kept in the same family for generations until they donated to the city and the house was designated a historic site. I’d never actually lived in the mansion, and as far as mansions went, this place wasn’t all that big.
“Is this chair original to the house?” Megan pointed to a high-backed wooden chair with a nearly threadbare cushion.
Was it me, or were these questions getting harder? “Sorry. Jill might know.” We finished upstairs and headed back down. “Would you believe me if I told you the house is haunted?”
Her eyes widened. “It is?”
“No. Sorry, it’s just an old house.” I handed her the brochure available to tourists. “You’ll probably find this more helpful.”
“You don’t have to pretend there are ghosts here to make it sound interesting. I like learning about Crystal Cove.” She blinked, almost like she was surprised to admit this. “I like hearing your version, at least.”
Maybe I was overthinking the whole city versus country thing. I just needed to be me.
She pointed to a modern folding chair by the front door. “Can I sit for a minute?”
I nodded and she sat and opened the brochure.
“Hey, I’m going to check in with the folks.” I took out my phone. “Be right back.”
Mom’s voice mail kicked in. I left a message saying everything was in order so far. I didn’t want her worrying. I flipped through a couple of messages from my dad with an update about a print order. Another text from Austin. Knowing Megan waited in the other room made up for missing snowmobiling.
When I returned, Jill and Megan sat beside each other chatting.
“Jill, this is Megan. A…friend of mine.” I hadn’t introduced her to anyone yet. Friend didn’t quite sit right, but that was probably me with my head stuck in the clouds.
“Wonderful meeting you,” Jill said to Megan. She stood and handed me a sheet of paper. “I have more things for you to pick up.”
Megan plucked it from my hand. “I’ll take that.”
Jill raised a brow, but said nothing and walked off.
“Hey, I can handle this.”
Megan skimmed the paper and handed it back. “Do this stuff later. You have your truck?”
I was suspicious. Very suspicious. “Why?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Absolutely not.”
She scowled. So cute.
“Put on the puff ball hat and I’ll take you seriously.”
She punched my arm. “I’m telling you to trust me. Will you trust me?”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” At this point, I’d made up my mind. I was going, even if I didn’t know where.
She marched ahead, out the front door and into the brisk afternoon air. “Back where it all started. The Sawyer tree lot.”
I had to admit, Megan’s plan to return to the tree lot made me more curious than suspicious.
“The big trees are gone,” I reminded her as we drove out of town toward the highway. “Remember, you took the last good one.”
She stuck her tongue out at me.
“Mature.” But I laughed anyway.
Only one car sat in the parking area. There were still trees left. We both jumped out of the truck.
Rob Sawyer waved, tugging an earbud free. He snapped his fingers and pointed at Megan. “Hey, I know you. How did you do with that giant tree?”
“It shook loose and then I slid off the road.”
Rob’s eyes nearly fell out. “What? No way.”
Ethan stomped over in his heavy boots. “I told you. You never should have sold her that big a tree. I’m sorry, miss.”
Rob looked past Megan to me. “Hey, Nick. We’ll get to you in a sec.” He turned to his brother. “I swear, I tied it really good. You aren’t going to sue us, are you?” he asked Megan.
Ethan jabbed Rob. “You don’t ask a customer that, dingus.”
“Sorry. I obviously can’t go back in time for a do-over.”
“Actually, you can,” Megan said. “Not the back in time part, but the do-over part. Sell us the rest of your trees.”
“The rest?” Rob turned to the lot. “We’ve got like, twenty left. What are you going to do with twenty Christmas trees?”
I joined the group. “Um, Megan? What are we going to do with twenty trees?”
Rob’s nose scrunched. “You’re with her?”
No use in lying. Both Sawyers would know I’d been holding out if I’d never mentioned Megan working for us. Sharp, captivating, and obviously not a townie like us, they’d have made it their business to get to know her. “We met…later that day.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “You followed her?”
I cut him a hard look. “I found her in the ditch with the tree she bought from you guys pointed into a bush.”
Megan turned to me. “Did you find me? Or did you have a hot tip from these guys?”
Uh-oh. Fire smoldered in her eyes. I may have come clean how I’d tried to swindle her out of the tree, but she didn’t know I’d sought her out.
She shot me a quick look and turned back to the Sawyer brothers. “If it’s true you did a crap tie-job and you told Nick about it with some kind of hope he could take my tree, well, that makes this deal even more crucial.”
Rob tugged at the cord of his ever-present earbuds. “I didn’t tell him to go after you, I swear.”
Every muscle in my body clenched. Shut up, dude.
“Shut up, Rob,” Ethan said. “And what deal?”
Megan straightened, seeming to rise a few inches. “The deal you’re giving us for these trees. You’re going to deliver them to the mayor’s mansion and place them along the driveway leading up to the house. We’ll need white lights and extension cords. And an external power source.”
Rob and Ethan looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Megan,” I said half under my breath. “I don’t think—”
“You mentioned you didn’t want me to sue you,” she said, plowing straight ahead. “I know you were joking, but you should consider the legal ramifications. I filed an insurance report on my car after the damage caused by the tree. My attorney in Chicago is familiar with how these mom-and-pop joints work. They’ll clean you out.”
Ethan’s jaw hung open. He looked at me. “Nick, what’s this girl up to?”
I was stumped at the moment. “The Sawyers are family friends,” I told Megan. “We don’t need to threaten them.”
“Then the decision should be easy. The benefit has a budget to cover what the Sawyers will take for the remaining trees.”
“How do you know about our budget?”
“I asked Jill.”
“I was gone for two minutes!”
She gave me a self-satisfied smirk. “I work fast.”
Lost for words. That was me. Words with no sense of direction.
She turned back to the Sawyers. “Don’t you want to close shop? Liquidate
your stock, call it a day, and hang out at Checkers? It’s the night before a big holiday. The place will be crawling with college students home for the holidays.”
Oh, she was good. Ethan had the math going in his head. Rob already abandoned the math and jammed to his own soundtrack.
“Give her the deal, dude,” Rob told him over the music in his headphones.
Ethan stroked his beard. “What are we talking here?”
“Well, the benefit is under budget because…reasons.” She glanced at me, sparing further judgment how I had under-spent because I’d under-planned. “I see you have a generator and lights strung around your shack.”
Ethan folded his arms. “It’s an outpost.”
One wood-slatted wall sat beneath a heavy-duty tent over top. Two sad wreaths hung askew on the wood part.
She held up a hand. “Sorry. Since we’re taking all the trees off your hands, you’ll give us a bulk rate. There should be room in the budget to buy more string lights. We need this all set up by two p.m. tomorrow. Deal?”
Ethan looked at me. “You’re asking us to do the set-up?”
“I’m not asking you to do anything,” I answered. “But if you’re smart, you’ll listen to Megan.”
“You’re getting the night off early to go to Checkers. Or don’t go out and have the trees all set up tonight. Your call.”
Ethan laughed despite himself. “Nick, you’re cool with this? I mean, is she working for you now?”
“You gave away my tree.” I threw up my hands. “This is the best solution I can think of.”
“We’re paying you for your inventory,” Megan reminded him. “The manual labor is a bonus to make right the damage to my car. I’m sure the Sawyer family would appreciate a full-page ad in the program how you supplied all the indoor and outdoor Christmas trees.” She turned to me again. “I was thinking we should bring a couple more into the house. Like that skinny one over there could work in the dining room by the built-in china cabinet, and that scrubby one? It has personality. That could go at the top of the staircase looking over the guests. Tinsel and a tree topper would be cute, like this one in the brochure.” She showed me page three with the photo caption: A Mid-century 1950s Christmas.
'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set Page 81