Mending Christmas With The Billionaire (Artists & Billionaires Book 2)

by Lorin Grace

  “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

  The little man gave some general instructions, then paused to address them. “You are couple number three. Walk like you did around the tree. You are going to start up there.” He pointed to where a young man with a tablet stood. “Walk when and where he tells you to.”

  “I guess we should go.” Sean extended his arm.

  The wind picked up a bit, and Sean shivered. He pulled Tessa closer to his side. “Are you warm enough?” They were on their fifth walk across the square.

  Tessa leaned in. “As warm as I can be. But I think my smile may have frozen. Does it look unnatural?”

  “When I was little, my mother would tell me not to stick out my tongue because my face would freeze that way. I didn’t believe her. But now? Maybe.”

  “My mother said the same thing.”

  They reached the end of their guided walk. A person bundled to Eskimo-like proportions holding a tablet looked up at them. “Okay, number three, this time you need to walk on this path and pass in front of the gazebo. He wants you to laugh. Tell each other corny jokes. It usually works. Boyfriend, you need to switch sides with her since she is shorter. On the count of ten, then go slowly.”

  They adjusted positions and started walking. “I can’t come up with a single joke. Other than the knock-knock jokes we used earlier,” said Sean.

  “I have a ton of blonde jokes I’ve collected over the years.”

  One of Tessa’s pale locks fell in her face. Sean was tempted to pull off his glove and touch it. Tessa brought her hand up, but Sean stopped her.

  “Here, let me.” He was careful not to touch her skin with the glove lest it scratch her. Her blue eyes followed his hand.

  “Thanks.”

  Had he only imagined that her reply was a tiny bit breathless? They were taking this acting like a couple thing too far. “I think we are supposed to laugh.”

  “Okay, how do you keep a blonde in suspense?” Tessa grinned at him.

  Sean shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

  “But I’m not—” Sean laughed, catching himself.

  “That is one of my favorites as it gets everyone regardless of hair color.”

  “Remind me to try that one on O’Malley.” Sean moved to the left to avoid a group of kids.

  “Here is the next one. Why are blonde jokes so short?”

  Sean was still contemplating an answer when the director yelled. “Couple three, stop right there and keep talking.” Sean stopped, and Tessa turned to face him, her eyes questioning. Not sure if she was concerned about his lack of an answer or the change in their routine, he answered both. “I have no idea.”

  “So brunettes can remember them.” Tessa smiled up at him.

  “Couple number three, look up!”

  Mistletoe.

  Tessa’s eyes grew wide, her mouth forming a silent O.

  “Boyfriend number three, get on with it. You’ve wanted to all night!”

  How did the director know? Sean started to lower his head and whispered, “Okay?”

  Tessa moved her hands to his chest and looked from his eyes to his mouth and back again. Sean took that as permission. He hadn’t done a stage kiss since the high school production of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, an experience he’d tried hard to erase from his memory. This stage kiss accomplished his goal. Tessa leaned into him and kissed him back. She tasted like the cider from their last break. Mindful of the camera crew, he pulled back and gave Tessa a smile. Her blush deepened, but it could have been the cold.

  “Couple three, proceed slowly along your route.”

  Sean tucked Tessa back in at his side and walked to the end of the path.

  Neither spoke.

  They were met by another crew member. “Wonderful job on the kiss—best one of the night. Go over to the trailer, turn in your props if you have any, and pick up your check. Good night, couple three.”

  At the trailer, Tessa turned in her knit hat and matching scarf. Her hair stood on end due to static. She tried unsuccessfully to smooth it.

  Sean removed his scarf and wrapped it around her head, tying it under her chin. “There. That will keep you warm until we reach the inn.” He took her hand and headed back out into the cold.

  ten

  Tessa flopped on the bed. What happened tonight was not just a stage kiss. Not that she’d ever tried drama, but she was pretty sure stage kisses didn’t have the kind of chemistry she’d felt.

  Sean hadn’t mentioned a theatrical background, but he must have one. Either that or a lot more experience kissing than she assumed. Tessa would rather believe it was a theater background. It was the best explanation for a kiss that . . . that—wow!

  Tessa needed her roommates.

  She texted Candace. Help! I just received the most mind-blowing kiss ever!

  What? NO KISSING! Better than Gavin??

  — Gavin who?

  Calling!

  Tessa didn’t even get a chance to say hello before Candace started in. “Girl! What on earth? We agreed after you came home that there was no more kissing until next year.”

  “Well, I didn’t plan on it. It was kind of a stage kiss, but it felt so real.”

  “Stage kiss?”

  “Sean and I were asked to be extras for a Homefire movie.”

  “Whoa, back up here. Who is Sean, and how did you get into one of their movies?”

  Tessa gave Candace a rundown of her week. “Then he walked me back to the inn. We only mentioned how cold it was. He left me at the door to the lobby; didn’t even come in. I still have his scarf.” Tessa picked it up. Oh, it smelled like him—a bit of spice, hard work, and maybe lemon?

  “Girl, I know you are smelling his scarf. Put it down now. It is poison!”

  “Candace, I am a mess. Why can’t I ignore guys the way you do?”

  “I don’t ignore guys.”

  “Then what do you call what you did to Colin at Mandy’s wedding?”

  “I was busy. I wasn’t ignoring him.”

  Tessa wrapped the scarf around her neck. “Whatever you call it.”

  “We are just friends. He was the best man, and I was the maid of honor. End of story.”

  It was wiser to keep her thoughts on the matter to herself. “So, what do I do with Sean?”

  “Nothing. You will be gone in a week and a half. He wouldn’t have kissed you if the director hadn’t told him to, so don’t make a big deal out of it. No more broken hearts. And no more kissing.”

  “You are right. I don’t know much about him anyway, and he did jump to conclusions about my motives.”

  “Repeat after me. Long-distance relationships never work.”

  “Long-distance relationships never work because you don’t know when he is cheating on you. Thanks, Candace.” Tessa removed the scarf and folded it on the desk. “A magically devastating kiss is not a foundation for a relationship.”

  “Hugs, my friend. Text me a single S when you feel yourself slipping, and I’ll call and rescue you.”

  “Night, Candace.”

  Sleep didn’t come as quickly as she hoped it would. Tessa tried not to replay a kiss that could play next year in millions of living rooms across the country if it wasn’t left on the cutting-room floor. She needed to remember the kiss was for a Homefire Christmas movie and real life was never as romantic as an iconic film.

  Sean only turned on a couple of lights. Despite the hour, he still needed to practice. There had to be a way to play the “Hallelujah Chorus” without the trumpet pipes. At least they were only doing the first part of the Messiah and ending with the “Hallelujah Chorus” from the second part. The aria “The Trumpet Shall Sound” in the third part would be dis
astrous.

  The missing pipes nettled him. Granda hadn’t been down in the catacombs for years, and even if he did manage to get down the stairs without his cane, he didn’t have the strength to lift the boxes. Tessa would need several trips to move them, but why would she? Sean doubted she knew the full significance of the pipes until their conversation. If she had played some kind of joke, she’d had more than enough time to confess.

  After changing into his organ shoes and doing several run-throughs, trying various stops and combinations, Sean wasn’t happy with the sound but hoped it would be passable with the choirs singing. If the organists were present at the three jobs he’d lined up for the rest of the week, he would see what they suggested.

  He turned off the organ and put back on his tennis shoes. At least he didn’t have any dead notes or ciphers. Granda’s organ was probably the most babied in the entire state. Sean used the instrument as an excuse to come visit Granda on a regular basis. In the past five years, the old lady had reached a state of practically spotless glory. Sean thought his efforts were unmatched until a friend described his tour of the Salt Lake Tabernacle organ in Utah. The chambers of that organ approached an impossible level of operating-room cleanliness. Even if he worked for weeks, he would never have this old lady that clean. Dust had too many places to accumulate for one man to keep up with it.

  His phone beeped a text message. His mom.

  Are you still up?

  — No, I’m sleep texting.

  Very funny. I only wanted you to know my plans. My flight lands at midnight on the 22nd.

  — Okay, I’ll be there.

  No need. Richard and I are renting a car.

  Sean wasn’t sure how to respond. He liked his mother’s longtime boyfriend well enough, but it seemed that every time they came to New York together, his mom got all melancholy and ended the relationship.

  — Are you staying at the apartment?

  No, we have reservations at the Holiday Inn in Peekskill.

  Better there than the apartment. He’d finally decided to do some updating and wasn’t sure she would approve. If he’d had a chance of getting something else in the price range of his rent-controlled lease, Sean would have moved years ago. There were too many memories left there, and with the fire station so near, there were still days when the sound of the sirens from the station took him back to his childhood.

  — Granda will be glad to have you here for Christmas Eve.

  With the surprise you have planned, we wouldn’t miss it. Can’t believe you got the Messiah going again!

  Sean didn’t have the heart to tell Mom the concert might not be the way she remembered it. But then, nothing was as good as memories made it.

  — See you next week. Love you.

  Love you too.

  Sean stared at his phone. He’d known Mom coming was a possibility, but it was Richard’s daughter’s year, wasn’t it? But they’d gone on a cruise with Gail and her new husband this summer when Gail got married. Sean shivered. He was all for family togetherness, but having your father and his girlfriend on your honeymoon cruise was a bit too much togetherness.

  He double-checked the locked door before crossing the yard to Granda’s. The wind whistled through the belfry. Sean reached absentmindedly to adjust a scarf that wasn’t there. Tessa. Just when he’d managed to go at least fifteen minutes without thinking about her.

  eleven

  As Tessa drove to the church, she hoped Sean had already left for the city. Then she could leave the scarf with the reverend. She wouldn’t be long today anyway. She’d found two promising stained-glass suppliers in New Jersey and another in Brooklyn, which she’d rather avoid driving to.

  Finding a piece of drapery glass to replace the broken part of Mary’s dress was next to impossible. But there were also a few hothouses around. They might make her a small piece close to matching. Had she known the specifications of the break before driving out here from Indiana, she could have gone down to Kokomo Glass, where she’d worked the summer of her junior year. They had most likely poured the original glass if it was for Tiffany. But the church couldn’t afford an entire crate of the custom glass, which would be the minimum order.

  A regular piece of antique or semi-antique in matching blue would have to do. Maybe a Cobalt Opalume would work.

  She also needed various supplies, including more lead came, a wax stone, and acid-free vellum—no way was she going to leave without documenting the window. There must be someplace she hadn’t searched. Did the church have an attic? Probably not, with the vaulted ceiling.

  Reverend Cavanagh was in the office when she arrived. “Morning, Tessa. You barely missed Sean.”

  Relief and disappointment clashed inside her. She laid the scarf over the back of the chair nearest the door. “Will you see that he gets this? We did miss you at dinner.”

  The old man chuckled. “I am sure you had more fun without me. Besides, no director wants an octogenarian reverend walking through their movie.”

  Tessa didn’t want to know what he knew about last night. “Did you think of anyplace else I might find the rubbings?”

  “Nick did ask me to think about donating some things to the new museum awhile ago. I sent over a few boxes. I’ll call him and check.”

  “I do hope something is there. I am off to a couple of glass suppliers in New Jersey. I know we talked about my work, but we didn’t cover the cost of supplies. As much as I would like to, I don’t think I can donate them.”

  The reverend pulled out a twenty. “Here’s something to help with gas money. Keep your receipts and invoice us. If you can keep it under $1,000, it would be helpful. Sean really wants to send out some parts of the organ to be fixed, and I am trying to have something in the budget.”

  Tessa took the gas money and slipped it in her pocket before running downstairs to wrap up several of the larger shards to take as a comparison.

  She ran her hand over the empty table, then used her cell-phone light to check in the first couple of catacombs for the missing pipes. Only dust. She didn’t have time to look in all of them, and Sean probably already had. Hopefully the rest of her day wouldn’t prove as futile.

  Standing room only. The train out to Blue Pines was more crowded than Sean anticipated. He’d learned from experience that driving to Granda’s during the Snowy Night festival was an exercise in frustration. Apparently he wasn’t the only one to figure this out.

  He shouldn’t have come tonight, especially after the organ he’d worked on this afternoon needed more TLC than he’d counted on. He’d nearly worn out four one-dollar bills cleaning the reeds. With each one he cleaned, he thought about his own missing pipes. They had to be in the church someplace. Maybe some of the teens had gotten in and decided to play a joke by hiding things in the catacombs. Conducting a further search was his main reason to go to the church.

  The fact that he was daydreaming of the world’s favorite parasitic plant had nothing to do with anything. Mistletoe killed trees. What idiot had decided people should kiss under it?

  “Next stop, Blue Pines. For all you festival attendees, remember the 10:08 is the last train back to the city tonight.”

  Sean joined the throng of passengers exiting the train, avoiding Main Street as he hurried to the parsonage. Granda had fallen asleep watching Perry Mason reruns. Sean left his pack in the bedroom that over the years had become his, ate some leftover casserole, and headed to the church.

  Only the night safety lights were on. The protective board Tessa had placed over the window after removing the duct tape was still up. Had she wasted another day looking for the nonexistent papers? If she didn’t get some work done soon, they wouldn’t have a window or an organ for Christmas.

  He grabbed the Maglite out of the closet, along with a piece of chalk. It was easy to get turned around in these em
pty chambers. Years ago he’d known every corner of the church, but he was in no mood to double back and repeat himself tonight because he’d forgotten which chambers dead-ended.

  As expected, the majority of the rooms were empty. In the far southwest room was a wooden crate that had sat there so long the letters had faded to read “AG-LE.” He’d climbed on the box more than once, trying to reach the small window above it. He marked the room with an X and moved on.

  Scraping sounds echoed as he worked his way around the northwest corner rooms. He checked the time on his watch—a couple minutes past eight. No one should be in the building. Maybe his pipe thief had returned. Keeping his flashlight aimed at the floor, he walked toward the room Tessa called number seven. The light was off, but he could see a light on in one of the chambers ahead. He turned off his light and crept toward the intruder.

  A kid in a hoodie stood with his back to him, fumbling with something at the table where his pipes had lain two days earlier.

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  twelve

  Tessa screamed as she grabbed the huge candy-cane key ring and whirled around to defend herself. “Sean!”

  “What are you doing here so late?” He folded his arms and leaned against the doorway, the skeptical look from the day they met having returned.

  Dropping the key ring to her side, Tessa took a steadying breath before answering. “I was bringing down the supplies I purchased today.”

  “It took you all day to get supplies?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Blue Pines doesn’t exactly have an opalescent glass warehouse. So I drove to New Jersey, where I was moderately successful at one of the two suppliers I found there. I never did locate one of the addresses in Brooklyn, but I did find a hot shop. Unfortunately, they will charge over $400 to custom-make the broken piece of Mary’s dress, so I did not commission it. Then I drove back here. I have been on the road for the past three hours without a bathroom or food. But my priority was to make sure the glass made it safely, as I purchased nearly $800 worth since the store will let me return any uncut and undamaged glass in the next seven days. Now, if you have enough information, I am going to go get my other box and find the restroom.” Tessa ran upstairs and straight to the bathroom. The day had been beyond frustrating. New York prices! The last thing she needed was Sean cross-examining her as if she were some criminal.