Page 17 of The Mistletoe Makeover

I glance down at my list of carols, which Jace refuses to look at. I wish I’d printed them off. At least then I could wad up the paper and throw it at him in frustration. It’s not like I can tell Jace Knight what to do, but he seemed genuinely interested in performing something totally different. And it made me feel like he valued my opinion.

“I’m keeping the concert easy,” he says. “That’s my style.”

“I thought your style was party songs with a side of breakup ballads?”

Jace gives me a little smirk. “Normally, yes. But not this time. I mean, really, I don’t care as long as it makes money.” He gives me a look that’s not so much theDark Knightas it isEbenezer Scrooge.

He might be one of the most famous music stars in America, but I will not let him ruin this concert because he’s too tired to care.

I shut my laptop and pause. I’m not going into this conversation with fists swinging, but I need to know why he’s already given up before we’ve started. “This doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“Because you know so much about me?”

I glance away for a second, feeling embarrassment creep up my spine. “I made a mistake of not doing my research before we met. To be honest, I’m not really into celebrities. But I was hoping to get an impression of you. Anunbiasedone.”

He stares at me like he’s trying to figure out whether he should believe me. “So you didn’t look up all the dirt on me?”

I shake my head. “My mom mentioned you’ve had a difficult year, but I don’t keep up on celebrity gossip. Honestly, I didn’t want to know about your personal life. Because it’s none of my business.” Even though I heard about his breakup, I didn’t want to taint my view of him.

“Well, that would be a first.” He stares at me long enough to make me uncomfortable.

“Listen, I know Maplewood might be peanuts to you, but this concert is a big deal. We’re going to turn it into the cutest little Christmas town ever.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“It has everything to do with you.” I set my computer down on the expensive-looking coffee table made from reclaimed wood and metal. “If we create this idyllic small town where people want to bring their families and make Christmas memories, then all those good feelings transfer to you. It’s a win-win for both of us.” Even as I say it, I hope we can pull it off. I’m making big promises that I’m not even sure I can deliver.

Jace shakes his head. “Do you really think Maplewood can live up to that image? Especially with the way it looks now?”

“I hope so.” But I’m not sure I believe myself. Nothing in our town looks promising, not even the theater where he’ll be performing. No wonder he doesn’t want to put much effort into this.

“Have you ever been to Evergreen, New York, at Christmas?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s this little German village decorated for Christmas. But five years ago, it looked like a deserted town,” I say. “They’ve transformed the place. Quaint shops. Street performers. Gourmet food. There are people dressed in lederhosen, singing ‘O Tannenbaum’”

His eyes widen. “Are you expecting me to wear lederhosen? Because that’s a definite no.”

“Of course not,” I say, stifling a smile as I imagine Jace dressed as one of the Von Trapp Family singers. “What if we went on a field trip to Evergreen next week so you can see what I mean? I’m not too proud to bribe you with a homemade cinnamon roll.”

I’m hoping the idea of warm bread drenched in butter and brown sugar softens his stone-cold heart. Because I don’t know what happened since our last meeting, but something has shifted.

“We’re already running late on planning,” he says with a concerned look.

“It’s just one day. Come on, Jace, don’t be a humbug. It’ll be fun!” As I say it, I can feel my growing desperation. Even though Jace agreed to the concert, he’s not putting any effort into it, and I don’t understand why.

“So you’re forcing me to go?”

“I have a feeling that nobody canforceanything on Jace Knight.”

“If I do this road trip, you’ll stop nagging me about the concert?”

I hold up a hand. “Scout’s honor,” I assure him, even though I don’t have a plan if this doesn’t work.

Embarking on a quick trip with Jace means we will be alone together for a whole day. And I don’t know how I’ll bite my tongue when we can barely get along for an hour.

But I’m willing to do whatever it takes if it means getting him to buy in to my big Christmas ideas.

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