Page 88 of Not Exactly a Small-Town Romance

Right, this is a work trip. “Our boss is at Cannes, so we aren’t too busy.”

“Cannes?”

Dang. I don’t want to tip him off to our Hollywood connection too soon. “The city in France.” Still true.

“And you decided to do your work in Glass because ...”

“The summer events. I wanted to learn more about them.”

“Is that part of your work? Are you a newspaper reporter or something?”

If only. Then I’d be living out the Hallmark dream. “No. I just do a lot of research for my job.”

“The first event is Wednesday night. It’s a hayride through the tree farm.”

“That sounds delightful.”Now invite me!

“Jack and I have to get the lights strung before then, as that’s the whole point of the ride. But we get to go on it. One of us will be on each wagon, telling the history of the farm.”

“I definitely can’t miss that.” I can picture it, the lights weaving through the trees, the night sky, and Randy talking to a group of people about his family history.

It’s too perfect.

Ifhe’s going to ask me to come.

But he only holds up the garland. “You think it needs balls?”

No, but he does, and to use them to ask me out! Maybe he has a girlfriend. Or he likes men. I start to deflate. “Maybe a few.” We pull a half dozen from the bin and tie them into the branches.

“Those look good,” he says, standing effortlessly from the floor, holding the garland. “Let’s see how it fits.” While he stretches it across the wood mantel, I awkwardly pull myself to standing. If he isn’t going to ask to see me again, this is not the moment I was hoping for.

“Mom will love it.” Randy takes a step back to admire our handiwork. “And she’ll appreciate that we have less to do on Saturday. You’ll be here for the Christmas tea?”

“I will,” I say. “I should study the schedule of events. I want to do as much as I can.”

“It’s spread out,” Randy says. “There’s no reason you can’t do them all.”

Here we go. “Doyoudo them all?”

His eyes take in my face. “I better. It’s our tree farm on the line.”

I should probably not be forward, but I’m tired of all the failed meet-cutes so far, and this one looks promising if he’s available. “Are you planning to take anyone with you?”

“I was thinking about it.”

I can practically see the camera angle. His face, slowly growing into a grin.

I see where this is headed, but I play along as if a director and a script supervisor hang on my every word. “Anyone in particular?”

Now the close-up, his eyes sparkling. “There might be a new girl in town.”

“Oh, really? You’d take a chance on a stranger?”

“She seems like a good bet. She’s got a good eye for decorating. I could use her tomorrow at the retail tent on the farm.”

Finally!

“I think she might be able to help out with that,” I say.

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