Holly Pointe & Mistletoe : A heartwarming holiday romance

by Cindy Kirk

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Stella dropped her coat on a chair. She stood, hands on slender hips, surveying the large chandeliers decorated with evergreen, ribbon, and holly.

  “Lucy outdid herself again.” Emily’s expression softened when she turned to Sam. “How is she doing? I forgot to ask if she’s dating anyone.”

  “Work keeps her very busy.” Sam kept the answer deliberately vague.

  His mother worried about Lucy and wanted her to be happy. The two women had grown close during the time when Lucy and Kevin were together and had shared a special bond during Kevin’s illness.

  Emily’s brows puckered in a worried frown. “I hope she and I can find some time to talk while I’m in Holly Pointe. Text and email just aren’t the same.”

  Sam slid an arm around his mother’s shoulders. “If she can possibly swing it, I know she’ll make time for you.”

  Emily gave a nod, then focused on Stella. “I understand you’re new to Holly Pointe. Have you been enjoying your time here?”

  Stella smiled. “I have. Very much.”

  “Will you be staying?” Emily cocked her head. “Or returning to Miami?”

  Sam nearly groaned aloud. His mother made it sound as if he’d told her everything about Stella’s background.

  Before Stella could reply, Lucy strolled up, hands outstretched. “Emily. It’s wonderful to see you.”

  His mother and Lucy hugged for several long moments, as if drawing strength from each other. While the pain had lessened after four years, this time of year remained difficult for everyone who’d loved Kevin.

  Britt appeared just as his mother released her hold on Lucy. Britt and Lucy squealed their welcome and hugged.

  Over their embrace, Sam saw Stella eying them with a pleasant but inscrutable expression. Though he couldn’t be absolutely positive what she was thinking, he worried that she felt like an outsider.

  Sam slipped around the women to stand at Stella’s side. “Hey you.”

  Something in his voice had a smile lifting those luscious red lips. “Hey you back.”

  At that moment, Sam wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and spirit her away. They’d both been busy this past week, and even though they’d texted every day and spoken on the phone every night, it wasn’t the same as being with her.

  “Come to dinner with us tonight.” He lowered his voice for her ears only. “I want you to get to know my parents.”

  Stella’s gaze turned watchful when his mother moved to them.

  “You better be solidifying dinner plans,” Emily said to Sam before her gaze shifted to Stella and turned pleading. “Please tell me you’re joining us tonight.”

  Stella slanted a glance at him before refocusing on his mother. “I’d love to have dinner with you. Thank you for the invitation.”

  Sam smiled. It appeared he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t say no to his mother.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I hope you don’t mind that my mother invited Lucy to join us.” Sam glanced at Stella as they descended the stairs from her apartment.

  “Of course I don’t mind.” Stella was actually happy Lucy had been added to the group. The more people at the table, the less pressure there would be on her. “I’m surprised your parents and Britt were able to come to the ball.”

  “They’ll fly back to New York on Monday. Britt’s standby will be on stage tonight and tomorrow. Broadway is dark on Monday, so this is a perfect time for a getaway.”

  “They’ll be here for Christmas?”

  “Not this year.” He shrugged. “They have an early flight out of Burlington, so they’re staying the night there and flying out first thing Christmas morning. I’m just glad they could come for the ball. Besides, I was hoping you and I would spend Christmas together. Unless . . . you have other plans.”

  They’d reached the bottom of the stairs. Stella paused and turned to face him. “I’d love to spend the holidays with you.”

  Though they had spent some time kissing in her apartment before heading out to meet his parents, he pulled her to him again. “Spending time with you is the only Christmas gift I want.”

  She laughed. “I guess that means I can take back your present.”

  There had been a sign at Faith’s shop that had caught her eye. The words had spoken to her, and she had the feeling they would also speak to Sam. Or at least she hoped they would.

  “Don’t you dare.” His arm was around her as they slipped through the Busy Bean, then crossed the street.

  “Let me ask you something really quick,” she said when they reached the door to Rosie’s Diner. “Do you think your parents or Britt would mind if I took a couple of pictures tonight? If not, that’s fine, but they are town celebrities.”

  “I don’t think they’d mind. Just ask them to be sure.”

  “Okay.” Taking a steadying breath, Stella stepped inside.

  They were the last of the group to arrive. Emily and Geoff, along with Lucy and Britt, sat at a large round corner table.

  Geoff rose to his feet when she approached the table and pulled out her chair.

  “You’re a gentleman, just like your son.” Stella offered him a smile of thanks and took a seat as conversation at the table resumed.

  The women were talking about some hilarious incident that had happened in the past.

  As if realizing that the discussion left Stella totally in the dark, Britt paused and gave Stella a brief synopsis of what they were discussing.

  “It was a Tony afterparty at the Plaza. Kevin couldn’t have cared less about the directors and stars in attendance. All he wanted to talk about were the horses he’d just purchased.” Britt’s eyes grew soft. “He was like a little boy at Christmas.”

  Sam nodded his agreement, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if the memory brought him pleasure. “He couldn’t stop talking about them.”

  “I had a calendar hanging on the wall in my office. Kevin had their arrival date circled in red.” Lucy shook her head. “As if any of us could forget.”

  “Did you share his love of horses?” Stella asked.

  “I did.” Lucy glanced at Sam. “I was as excited as Kevin. After he—after he passed, I really wanted to keep them. But I didn’t have the time or the facilities to care for them properly.”

  “I don’t live on the other side of the country.” Sam met her gaze. “You know you have an open invitation to come out and ride anytime you want.”

  “I know.” She offered him a wan smile.

  “Well, anyway, we’re at this party.” Britt jerked a thumb in Geoff and Emily’s direction. “These two were schmoozing on the other side of the room. This older woman, who is considered the grande dame of the Broadway stage, strolls up just in time to hear Kevin say, ‘Ask Lucy. She’ll tell you. There’s nothing like fifteen hands between your legs.’”

  Britt held up her hands. “Oh. My. God. You should have seen Lucy’s face. It turned bright red. I thought the older woman was going to bust a gut laughing.”

  Stella laughed, and the last of the tension gripping her disappeared. Britt’s generosity in letting her be a part of this inside joke had her liking the woman. And while she smiled and included Sam in the conversation, if there had been an attraction between the two of them at one time, it was clear that was over.

  No one objected to her taking pictures, although Lucy and Britt both insisted on freshening their lipstick first. Emily let Stella take a picture of her with her hands wrapped around a monster burger.

  Stella waited for the interrogation, but it never came. By the end of the meal, Stella felt comfortable with everyone at the table, including Britt.

  They were all sharing one giant piece of sour cream chocolate cake when Lucy brought up Britt’s standby.

  “I hear she’s a bit of a conniver.” Lucy’s single bite of cake—all she would allow herself—had long ago disappeared. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “I hear she’d love to take t
he role away from you.”

  Stella glanced at Geoff and Emily, who appeared dismayed at the turn the conversation had taken. Yet something in their eyes told her that whatever gossip Lucy had heard was accurate.

  “I believe,” Britt spoke carefully, as if negotiating her way through a potential minefield, “that it’s the dream of most standbys, alternates, or swings to perform in a principal role. It’s difficult for them to wait in the wings for that opportunity.”

  “It seems to me that theater would be dog-eat-dog business.” For some reason, Lucy didn’t appear interested in letting the subject drop.

  “Most in the industry learn that generosity and kindness go a long way.” Britt glanced at Emily, who nodded. “Temperament and arrogance can sink a career.”

  “Thankfully, we don’t have many people in Holly Pointe who think of themselves before others.” Sam stabbed the last bite of cake then offered it to Stella.

  She shook her head as a hard knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Was that what he’d think of her when he found out about the deal she’d made with Jane?

  “Sometimes you have to think of yourself first,” his father said, apparently unwilling to let his son’s statement go unchallenged. “Putting yourself first is often necessary to achieve your goals.”

  Sam shook his head. “You’ve always been a team player.”

  “I pride myself on that fact,” Geoff admitted, “but to succeed in almost any business, you can’t always be the good guy.”

  “Do you really expect me to believe that you’re a cutthroat, get-ahead-at-all-costs type of guy?” Sam chuckled. “When have you ever put yourself first?”

  “Well, when I was young and making my way in the theater, I had a roommate that mentioned a theatre company was looking for the type of plays he and I both wrote.” Geoff’s eyes took on a distant look. “I submitted mine right away, but Nick wanted to fine-tune his a little more. He missed the submission window. They chose to produce mine.”

  “Okay, sure, but you didn’t try and sink your roommate to get ahead. You let your work speak for itself. That’s competition, not betrayal. There’s nothing selfish or dishonest about that.”

  Stella sat back and sipped her coffee. She needed to tell Sam the real reason she’d come to Holly Pointe. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to tell him, the time just never seemed right.

  Stella glanced at him as he countered one of his father’s points with an example of his own. Sam caught her looking, shot her a wink, then went back to the discussion.

  Tonight. She would tell him tonight.

  She only hoped he would understand and forgive her.

  There was no opportunity to speak with Sam alone. Once the dinner ended, Sam’s parents and Britt were eager to get back to the farm. They’d been up late at some function the night before and were clearly exhausted.

  Sam asked Stella to come to the farm with them, even offered to drive her all the way home, but she begged off. His parents didn’t get back to Holly Pointe as often as he’d like, and she wanted them to have as much time together as possible.

  Besides, she would be spending tomorrow evening with Sam at the Mistletoe Ball. She reassured herself that there would be lots of opportunities for them to talk.

  Unlocking the door to her apartment, Stella dropped down to the sofa, relieved that the evening was over. The evening hadn’t been uncomfortable. She liked Sam’s parents, liked them a lot. She was glad for that fact because she knew they and Sam were close.

  Idly, she scrolled through the messages on her phone.

  Jane Myers.

  There was an attachment to the email.

  She read the email first.

  Stella,

  The article you submitted is not acceptable. It is bland and boring.

  Santa as well as Dustin and Krista are only given passing mentions. Britt Elliott is not even mentioned.

  I’m very disappointed in this submission. I know you can do better.

  Please send me the article we previously discussed by nine a.m. tomorrow.

  Jane

  Stella frowned, her gaze riveted to two words: bland and boring. While the article she’d submitted to Jane might not have a tabloid slant, it had a wonderful, heartwarming feel that Stella was sure would resonate with readers.

  With all the strife and turmoil in the political arena lately, people were looking for stories that reaffirmed their faith in man’s goodness.

  With her lips pressed tightly together, Stella opened the article. Jane had slashed through it with a red pen, writing things like “Where’s drunk Santa????” and “I don’t care about kids sledding!!!”

  Stella clicked out of the attachment without reading all the comments and responded to the email.

  Dear Ms. Myers,

  The article I submitted is factual and complete. My initial questions regarding Kenny and the state of the Bellamy-Ankrom marriage were proven to be mere speculation. That is why there is no mention of drunkenness or marital discord.

  In terms of Britt Elliott, the possibility that she was using Sam Johnson to obtain a role on Broadway was also proven false.

  I have fulfilled the terms of my contract. I will not be submitting an article filled with falsehoods and innuendos.

  Sincerely,

  Stella Carpenter

  Hitting send had Stella expelling a breath and slumping against the back of the sofa.

  It was done. Over.

  The contract with Jane had been fulfilled. Stella knew Jane well enough to know that she wouldn’t be hearing from the managing editor again.

  Finally, blessedly, she was free to move on with her life.

  She only hoped that her speculation that Sam would play a big part of this new journey would prove to be true.

  Stella glanced up from the table she was wiping when Kenny crossed the room to her. The onslaught of customers had finally died down.

  “Stella, honey, you need to get ready for the Mistletoe Ball.” Kenny’s kind eyes brimmed with gratitude. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciated your help. If Norma had worked all day, I don’t think she’d have had the energy to attend the ball with me tonight.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  Kenny pointed to the back of the shop. “Go upstairs now. Make yourself even prettier than you already are, for your young man.”

  Stella hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t need me? I have plenty of time to get ready.”

  Kenny lifted the damp cloth from her hands. “I’m positive.”

  “Okay then.” Stella surprised herself, and him, by leaning over and brushing her lips against his cheek. “You’re a wonderful husband. I hope when I marry that I find someone half as wonderful as you.”

  “Sam’s a good man,” she heard him call out as she strolled to the back of the shop.

  Stella kept walking even as her lips curved into a smile.

  Kenny was right. She’d been planning to spend the day with Sam and his parents. But when she’d hurried down the steps this morning and seen Norma so pale and unsteady behind the counter, she’d called Sam.

  He’d understood the need for a change in plans.

  But tonight, tonight was all her and Sam. They would dance, with the scent of evergreen surrounding them, to a band that had been brought in from Burlington. They would drink champagne and laugh and talk with friends.

  Sam would call her beautiful, and she would feel beautiful when his eyes caressed her.

  He’d already told his parents that he was taking her home after the dance. They wouldn’t be expecting him back before morning.

  Excitement surged as Stella dressed for the Mistletoe Ball.

  She washed and curled her hair. Sam liked it loose, so instead of pulling it up or twisting it into a knot, she left it hanging to her shoulders. A couple of glittery pins added a little sparkle.

  The dress was a black Alexander Wang crepe gown with a thigh-high back slit. She loved the asymmetrical one-shoulder neckline in the dress
she’d purchased last year after selling a magazine article. Ankle-strap heeled sandals in gold and lipstick in cherry red completed the look.

  Instead of the suit she’d expected, Sam wore a tux.

  Her gaze lingered, and then she stepped close and fingered his lapel. “You’re breathtaking.”

  His eyes never left hers. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

  Instead of Sam’s truck, the car parked in the back lot was a sleek Mercedes sedan. She smiled as he opened the door. “Two questions. Whose car is this? And does it turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

  He grinned and slipped behind the wheel. “Mine and no.”

  “I thought you had a truck.” In the close confines of the car, she could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

  The man smelled every bit as good as he looked.

  “I have a car, too. I just don’t drive it much during the winter.”

  She cocked her head. “Are you rich?”

  He laughed. “Would it make a difference?”

  “I might have bought you a different Christmas gift.” She held up the black-and-white-polka-dot-wrapped gift with the cherry-red ribbon.

  At his questioning glance, she added. “I like the thought of it being under your tree.”

  He took it from her extended hand and leaned behind to put it in the back seat. “When I see it there, I’ll think of you.”

  She gave him a cheeky smile. “That’s the plan.”

  “My parents like you,” he said when he pulled onto the highway leading to the Grace Hollow Barns.

  “I like them, too.” She hesitated, then added, “I like Britt, too.”

  She saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

  “There isn’t anything between us. Not anymore.”

  “I know.”

  He cast a sharp glance in her direction at her matter-of-fact tone.

  “I trust you, Sam,” she said simply. “You wouldn’t be dating or sleeping with me if you had feelings for another woman.”