Page 14 of Merry with a Tycoon

The PowerPoint slidesblur before my eyes as our CFO drones on about quarterly projections. I should be paying attention—these figures are crucial for our upcoming expansion in Asia—but my mind keeps drifting to copper hair and determined hazel eyes.

I shift in my leather chair, trying to focus. The memory of her in that yoga class, moving with grace and strength, flashes through my mind. The way her eyes flashed with a mix of annoyance and something softer when she caught me watching her. The way–

“Mr. Hollister? Your thoughts on the projections?”

I blink, suddenly aware that all eyes in the boardroom have turned to me. Clearing my throat, I straighten up. “The projections look solid, but I’d like to see a more detailed breakdown of the potential risks in the Asian market. Can you have that on my desk by tomorrow, James?”

Our CFO nods, looking relieved. I feel a twinge of guilt for my lack of attention, but it’s quickly overshadowed by thoughts ofCrystal. I need to make this right, not just for her, but for all the small business owners in Love Beach.

As the meeting wraps up, I retreat to my office, closing the door behind me. To my surprise, Teddy is waiting, a folder clutched in her hands.

“I have the draft of the letter,” she says, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “For the rent increase mistake.”

I take the folder, scanning the contents. The letter is well-written, striking the right balance between apology and professionalism. I nod approvingly. “This is good, Teddy. Really good.”

Her face lights up with pride. “You really think so?”

I nod. “I do.”

“I thought I could hand-deliver them to the shop owners.” She pauses, biting her lower lip. “You know, introduce myself properly this time.”

“That’s a great idea,” I say, impressed by her initiative. Then, trying to sound casual, I add, “Actually, would you mind if I delivered Crystal Francia’s letter personally? I owe her a more detailed explanation.”

Teddy raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. “Sure, I’ll set that one aside for you after I print them all out.”

“Thanks.”

After Teddy finishes printing all the letters and leaves, I find myself staring at Crystal’s letter sitting on my desk. This could be my chance to talk to her, to explain everything. Maybe even... ask her to dinner?

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, picturing her face - the way her hazel eyes light up when she talks about her crystals and mosaic creations, the small dimple that appears in her left cheek when she really smiles.

A chuckle escapes me as I shake my head. When did I, Preston Hollister, get nervous about asking a woman to dinner?It’s almost laughable. I’ve negotiated billion-dollar deals, stared down board members three times my age, and yet the thought of asking Crystal out ties my stomach in knots.

But Crystal’s different. She’s real in a way that’s both refreshing and terrifying. She doesn’t seem to care about the Hollister name or what it represents. Even when she showed up at the mansion a few weeks ago, she didn’t appear to be awestruck at the place as much as she was happy to see Willy back in town. To her, I’m probably just the guy who keeps buying trinkets for his employees and increasing rents on old buildings just because he can.

As I gather my things to leave, I catch sight of the list Crystal wrote the day I played Santa, the list of wishes the children told me. In the chaos of the past few days, I’d almost forgotten about them.

A job for Daddy, a cure for Mommy…

With two more weeks before Christmas, I may not be able to give every kid the present they wanted, but I sure can try. I press the intercom. “Stella, I need you to set up a meeting with HR. We’re going to create a job fair specifically for unemployed parents in Love Beach. And contact the city hospital—I want to make a donation for new research equipment.”

I pause, reading another wish that stands out, a shy boy who wished for a friend. “Also, get in touch with the local schools. Let’s fund an after-school program focused on social skills and friendship building.”

“Certainly, Mr. Hollister.”

As I hang up, I feel a sense of relief wash over me. This Scrooge may have messed up with the rent increases at Seaside Square, but he’s not beyond redemption.

Stepping out of my office, I catch sight of my reflection in the window. There’s a smile on my face that I don’t rememberputting there, and a lightness in my step that’s been missing for longer than I care to admit.

The elevator doors slide open, and I step out into the underground parking garage, the letter from Teddy feeling like it weighs a ton in my pocket. My palms are sweaty as I slide into the driver’s seat of my car.

When did I start getting nervous about visiting a small gift shop?

But HarmonyWorks isn’t just any shop, and Crystal isn’t just any shop owner. As I navigate the familiar streets of Love Beach, my mind wanders to all the times I’ve visited her store over the past couple of years. Always under the pretense of buying a gift for someone else, always stealing a few precious moments of normalcy in my otherwise chaotic life.

There was always something about her shop that pulled me there, even before Crystal took over. Mrs. Royce had the most interesting inventory and I loved how I could surprise my parents with the presents they’d never expect.

I remember the look on Mother’s face when I gave her that sound bowl for her birthday one year, a beautiful hand-hammered copper bowl that, when struck or rimmed, produced the most soothing resonant tone. Or the vintage compass I found for my father that wasn’t just any compass. When opened, it revealed a hidden sundial and a tiny compartment that held a roll of parchment paper with an inspirational quote about finding one’s true north. Father kept it on his desk until the day he died. These days, Brogan carries it with him.

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