Frost tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t mind.”
He glanced up, his gaze full of heat. “No?”
“No.” She grinned, knowing exactly where his thoughts were and happy to tease him a bit. “But I’m a little offended that I’m only pretty in the snow.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re especially beautiful in the snow.”
She put a hand on her hip. “That’s discouraging. Snow’s not an accessory a girl can pick up on Amazon.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Lucky for you, you know how to make snow.” His eyes bounced up to the paper snowflakes and back.
“Yeah.” She turned and glanced over her shoulder. “I do.” Adding a Stella-worthy sway to her hips, she sauntered out the door.
After the forty-eight-hour decorating marathon, she’d slept for ten hours straight and then got right back to work on Operation Christmas Spirit. Already, she could feel the difference in the town and even at the office. She’d counted three ugly holiday sweaters among the cubicles. With any luck—and a dash of Frost—the number would double tomorrow.
Her computer dinged an alert and a small bubble popped up, announcing a company-wide meeting at ten.
“Sorry about the mess,” said Tim the intern, who was much too eager to please as he loaded her desk with mail. “Monday’s deliveries are always big. Sorry.” He scratched the end of his nose.
Frost breathed in the dry paper and light glue scent and longed for home. Oh, how she missed the elves and their pointy hats and perpetual smiles. The rows and rows of filing cabinets and the color-coded file folders. “I don’t mind.”
Tim shrugged and headed off to do what interns do. Besides the mail, Frost wasn’t sure what a personal assistant did.
She kept her eyes on the stacks and reached into her Kringle bag for her favorite letter opener. Tucking herself into the task and the desk, she had created order out of chaos. Needing more, she turned to her inbox and then Tannon’s. Feeling restless, she headed for Tannon’s office.
She stood in the doorway for a moment, observing the deep frown lines around his mouth and the heavy lowering of his brow. This version of Tannon was so different from her letter-writing Tannon, who was also different from the Tannon she’d spent Thanksgiving with. Of all the Tannon versions, her favorite was the one who played in the snow. She liked that he could be serious too, but there was an under layer of discontent at the office. Like he was unhappy here. She didn’t understand that at all—the Letters room was her sanctuary. She looked closer at him. Who was he really?
“Did you say something?” Tannon asked.
Frost cringed, hoping she hadn’t spoken out loud as she often did in the Mail Room when she was deep in thought. The elves were used to her random thoughts flying out, but around here it might not be so easily overlooked.
Sensing Tannon’s admiration, she allowed her hands to drop to her sides and relaxed her muscles. “I need something to do.”
He dropped his head as fast as Rudolph flies. “Those reports need to be filed.”
Her pulse picked up speed, but she wasn’t sure if it was the excitement over filing or a reaction to the interest coming from Tannon. He wasn’t looking at her, but she had the feeling that he was aware of her every step. She hugged the files to her chest. “I’ll be in the filing room.”
“Try not to rearrange it today, would you?”
“I’ll do my best.” She flounced around and left the office, her high ponytail swinging.
The filing room was much as she left it, with the cabinets pressed against the walls and a line of chin-height ones down the middle. But the best part was Zuzu, her blond curls tamed by two barrettes, at her tiny desk in the corner. When she saw Frost, she bounded across the room and hugged her, folders and all. “Oh my goodness! I thought you were fired after the way Mr. Cebu yelled at you for helping me.”
Frost laughed. “Not fired. I quit.”
“No!” Zuzu’s tattooed eyebrows lifted in an invitation to tell all.
Frost did not. She did, however, give a shortened version, leaving out the part where she shared a roof with the Cebu family and pressed her luck with Tannon’s mother. She hadn’t meant to be so confrontational at the time, but the hostility floating off that woman was a train wreck waiting to happen. And, because of her Kringle abilities, Frost was snatched onto the train and given a one-way ticket.
She finished up by telling Zuzu she’d been put in charge of the Christmas party.
“You came back for a Christmas party?”
“Why do you make that sound weird?”
Zuzu’s eyebrows lowered. “I gotta tell ya, our parties aren’t all that great. I think you’ll be disappointed.”
A niggling worry rolled through Frost’s stomach. Like listening to the jack-in-the-box song. You know Jack is about to jump out and scare you, and your body reacts long before he actually appears. That was this moment, the haunting sound of Christmas spirit withering away. Frost thought all she’d have to do was convince Tannon to keep the mill running, but if Zuzu’s lack of enthusiasm was any indication, she’d have to convince the whole plant that Christmas was a time to celebrate. “This one will be. You’ll see. We’ll have decorations galore. I’m going to transform this place into the North Pole.”
At the mention of home, Frost’s enthusiasm dropped steeper than one of Blitz’s infamous barrel rolls. Still, planning a big Christmas celebration was a cinch for a Kringle. Ginger and Joseph had already promised to swing by with a bag full of gifts. That would lighten everyone’s mood. Robyn promised to send baked goods. Her sugar cookies were a guaranteed hit. Lux and Stella were pretty much glued to the North Pole until Christmas was over, so they wouldn’t be much help, but what else was there? A few reindeer games and the place would ring with carols just like home.
She shivered and wrapped her arms around her middle. Banishment was awfully lonely. And maybe that was the point. Maybe Christmas Magic wanted her to feel alone, which was awfully mean of it to do. She shook her head. Thinking about what Christmas Magic was doing and why would only give her a headache. Lux was much more adept at studying the fickle force than Frost.
“Hey, it’s almost time for the meeting. Wanna go down together?” asked Zuzu.
“Sure.” Frost shut the filing drawer with a satisfying clang. “Let me just make sure Tannon doesn’t need anything.”
“Oh, it’s Tannon now, is it?” Zuzu nudged her with an elbow.
Frost rolled her eyes in reply before hurrying from the room. There was no use telling Zuzu that since she’d kissed the man, calling him Mr. Cebu would seem weird. Of course, kissing him again … that would be weird. Although, if the moment was right, she wouldn’t object. Tannon’s kisses were—well, they were magnificent, and the more she thought about his lips on hers, the gentle, demanding pressure, and the feel of their bodies pressed together, the more another kiss seemed like a good idea.
Which was why she shouldn’t ever think about that again.
Ever.
Starting now.
Okay. Now.
She threw her arms up in disgust.
Now.
Hoping her thoughts weren’t plastered across her face, she poked her head into his office only to find it empty. She hurried back to Zuzu, who was waiting outside the filing room door. “He must have left already.”
“Let’s go, then. I don’t want to be the last ones in the room.”
The cubicles did seem awfully quiet. They made it with time to spare and took the end two seats on the third row from the front. Frost had a flash back to sitting in a lecture hall. She smiled at the people around her as Zuzu made introductions. She seemed to know everyone.
The room fell silent as reporters filed in through the side door and took the front row. A cameraman stood and took pictures of the assembled group of workers.
At precisely ten, Tannon stood and went to the microphone. He tugged on the bottom of his charcoal suit. He wore a white shirt underneath and a pa
le blue tie that was three shades lighter than his eyes. Combined with his strong jawline and his prominent cheekbones, the look was what Stella would call alpha-male hotness.
Tannon exuded a level of confidence that intimidated people into not questioning him. The effect was extremely sexy, especially since she knew under all that he was tender and could feather his fingers over her cheek. Frost discreetly fanned her face to cool her burning cheeks. She’d gone a lifetime without feeling changes in external temperatures, but her internal temperature spiked every time she allowed her thoughts to stray. She needed to reset her determination to stay away from him.
Okay, now.
Deep breath.
Now.
“Thank you for coming.” Tannon’s deep voice rolled through the speakers set up on the sides of the podium, where the microphone caught all his words. “As many of you know, my assistant, Mrs. Garron, is at home recovering. We’re praying for her quick recovery.”
Zuzu hmmed.
“What?” Frost asked.
“I’ve just never heard him say anything like that before.”
Frost lifted a shoulder. It wasn’t so far off track for Tannon to offer up prayer, but maybe he’d never let the people he worked with see that side of him before. It was a small comment, but it felt like a big victory to her.
Tannon continued, “Mrs. Garron has planned our Christmas party for as long as I can remember. My temporary assistant, Frost, has agreed to take over planning this year. If you’d like to offer your help, please contact her.” He motioned her direction.
Every head in the room swiveled and hundreds of pairs of eyes stared. Feeling like a bug under a spotlight, Frost stood up and gave a small wave and as big of a smile as she could muster. She counted to three before sitting back in her seat.
The heads swiveled back to the front. Frost looked up in time to see Tannon give her a lopsided smile. He dropped it quickly. “Now, for the big announcement.”
The air froze in place and everyone seemed to hold their breath. Frost clasped her hands together in her lap.
“I’ve decided to sell the mill.”
The whole room gasped. Frost clutched her hands to her chest as if a dart had entered her heart. It might as well have. If everyone in town was worried about their jobs, about making ends meet, about their families, then they wouldn’t have the time nor the cheer for Christmas. Tannon was killing her chance of getting home.
Tannon held up his hands. “Selling is a personal decision and one that I haven’t made lightly. I haven’t signed any papers, but I felt that I owed it to all of you, as loyal employees, to share the future of the mill.”
A reporter from the front row stood up and lifted his hand in the air. “Do you have a buyer in mind?”
Tannon swallowed. “A logging mill is interested.”
“Logging?” shouted a large man from the middle of the room. He wore an orange safety vest with yellow florescent stripes running down the front. “That would cut half our jobs.”
A shorter man jumped to his feet. “If they don’t bring in their own employees.”
People murmured to their neighbors. Frost’s Kringle senses filled up fast with the fear and discontent. She gripped the edge of her seat to keep from running from the room. She should have known better than to come to such a large gathering—especially one Tannon was in charge of. He tended to make big groups angry.
Tannon lifted both his hands and motioned for everyone to quiet down. “I understand your worries.”
“Yeah, right!” yelled an anonymous heckler.
“I do. You’re worried about your children, how you’re going to get your son or daughter through college, about the braces they need, the rising cost of living, about the baby on the way. Which is why I’ve reached out to several paper companies to see if they are interested in purchasing the mill. A best-case scenario would be a change in ownership with minimal disturbance.”
Some of the stress left the room, and Frost felt the band around her chest loosen. She took in air as if she’d been underwater for the last two minutes. Good for Tannon. Still, change was change.
Tannon wrapped up the meeting and went down to talk to the reporters. Frost said goodbye to Zuzu, who was deep in conversation with another woman from the upstairs offices. They had their heads bent together and were talking right on top of one another. Frost’s head started to ache. She pushed her way against the tide of people leaving the room, their emotions running into her and trying to roll over her with more force than the actual people. There was a small undercurrent of hope that kept her from going under. She grabbed on to it and held tight.
When she got to Tannon’s elbow, she waited for him to finish the interview.
“Can you tell us who you’ve reached out to?”
Tannon’s jaw flexed. “I’m sorry. You can understand that the information will remain confidential until an agreement has been reached.”
There were a few more questions, and then Tannon turned to her, took her elbow, and ushered her out of the room. Frost’s skin tingled under his gentle hand. She could smell his aftershave lotion, all musky and cedar-ish. Okay, she had no idea what the scent actually was, except that it was manly and made her stomach want to float away.
Tannon leaned down and spoke low into her ear. “I need you to compile a list of our competitors who may be interested in buying the mill.”
Frost’s head stuttered over the information. “I thought you already contacted mills.”
Tannon shook his head. “I didn’t think of it until I was standing up there.”
She felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders as if she carried it herself. “It’s a good idea.”
“Yeah. Hopefully it’s not too late.” He released her elbow and pressed the elevator button. Everyone else had gone back to their desks. They didn’t have long before the cubicles emptied out for lunch, although some people would eat at their desks. “I need this sale to go through before the end of the year.”
She turned so she could search his face. “Why?”
“What?” He faced her, and the air between them charged.
“Why are you so intent on selling?”
Tannon looked around, making sure their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. “My parents want to adopt Brody. They claim that I’m not a good father because I spend so much time here.” He ran his hand over his head. “I can’t help but agree with them. If I sell the mill, I’ll become a full-time father and they won’t have a leg to stand on.” He grimaced as he looked down at his pant legs.
Frost’s heart melted right there. It puddled in her chest like molten lava. “From what I’ve seen, you’re an excellent father. How can they even think of taking him from you?”
Tannon lifted a shoulder as if it didn’t matter, but she could feel the weight on his chest. “In their eyes, I’m never good enough.” The elevator finally opened with a ding and they stepped inside.
“It’s their problem, Tannon. Not yours.”
“It’s mine if they sue for custody.”
“Would they take it that far?”
“I can’t put it past them.” He leaned back against the wall, his hands tucked into his pockets. “They offered to adopt Brody when he was born, but I just couldn’t hand him over. It would have been easier for me, but he’s mine. I knew it all the way to my bones, and I loved him more than I’d ever loved anyone. I thought they’d given up that line of thinking, but apparently they’ve been biding their time.”
Frost twisted her lips as she thought. Mary had been gracious on the outside, and Frost had worked to keep her Kringle radar on the down low while she was there. It wasn’t until the whole Christmas tree thing that she’d gotten a good shot of what was really in Mary’s heart. It was ugly and twisted and not at all what Frost had pictured when she’d read Tannon’s letters through the years. She didn’t argue with Tannon’s assessment of his parents. If they wanted Brody, they’d play dirty.
“So you have to se
ll.” Her shoulders slumped. Tannon was in a no-win position, and she’d put her entire future as a Kringle, not to mention Christmas itself, in a tougher spot.
As if echoing her fears, when the elevator doors slid open, a cloud of doom and gloom filled the office. Everyone had their heads down. Some were talking quietly on their phones, probably to their spouses, trying to figure out what this all meant for their individual families.
“Can you have that information to me by lunch? I’d like to make some phone calls.” Tannon’s hand graced the small of her back.
Frost nodded mutely. As if she didn’t have enough to do to save Christmas, now she had to save a paper mill. Nutcrackers! Life outside the mail room was complicated.
There was a stack of mail on her desk when she got back, and her fingers itched to sort it. She glanced at Tannon’s back as he made his way into his office. He left the door open. She sat, hoping her body would block most of what she was doing. She picked up a stack and began sorting into what Zuzu had called junk mail—which still seemed like an oxymoron—and important information. When she came to a gold-embossed envelope with Miss Kringle printed on the front, her hands stilled. She whipped her head around to make sure Tannon wasn’t anywhere near. The North Pole address had been crossed out, and written in Dad’s neat block script was the paper factory’s address. She rolled her eyes. “You could have sent it to the cottage,” she muttered as she dug through her purse for her favorite letter opener.
“Frost?” Tannon’s voice was close—too close.
Frost yipped and slapped her hand over the envelope, leaning into the desk to shield it from his view.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Frost rubbed her lips together. “Hmm?”
“I wondered if the mail had come in.”
“I was just seeing to that.” She tipped her head to the side to indicate the neat stacks lined up like toy soldiers. She felt his hope rise, and she cringed, knowing there wouldn’t be an envelope from Miss Kringle because she hadn’t written him back yet. “There’s nothing but business letters and junk mail.” The words tasted like sandpaper on her tongue and she wanted to spit.
Marrying Miss Kringle: Frost Page 18