Page 1 of Inherited Holiday

PROLOGUE

NICHOLAS

“What the hell do you mean by I’ve inherited Mistletoe Town?” I argued with my grandfather’s estate attorney.

I was completely thrown off guard by the unexpected reading of his will.

“Exactly what I just said, Mr. Saint Clair. The town is now yours. You own it.”

I sat there dumbfounded, utterly confused by the turn of events. The last time I stepped foot in that godforsaken Christmas town was when I left everyone in it thirteen years ago. I never looked back.

“You can’t be serious, Alfred.”

“Quite the contrary, sir.”

“Well, I’m urging you to reconsider.”

“It’s not personal.” He shook his head. “He’s just looking out for the future of his legacy.”

“Not personal, my ass! It couldn’t get any more personal than what he’s demanding of me.”

I took a deep breath and cracked my neck, feeling the throbbing strain from my pulsating jugular vein. This man knew how to push every one of my buttons and did it without hesitation. Even from the grave. Now he was pushing me to the brink of insanity, and I was just supposed to sit back and obey like a lapdog.

Inhaling another deep, solid breath, I snapped, “And what if I don’t want it?”

He shrugged as if what he had just informed me of didn’t turn my life upside down.

I muttered under my breath, “I can’t believe this.”

“Mr. Saint Clair,” he stressed, sliding the documents over to me. “It’s what your grandfather wanted.”

“No,” I snapped again. “What my grandfather wanted was to control me, and since he couldn’t do it while he was alive, he’s now demanding it when he’s dead.”

I couldn’t believe he thought I’d just bend at his will like he was simply asking me to take a meeting with a client and not alter the course of my entire future in such a drastic way.

The audacity of my grandfather knew no bounds.

He’d always been relentless in his pursuit, determined to make whatever he thought was right happen, no matter what or who it affected. The sad part was we were one and the same. I was exactly like him. For the first time in my life, I had no idea what the outcome would be, and I hated that more than anything.

“We all know what you’re capable of, Mr. Saint Clair,” he coaxed, pulling me away from my reckless thoughts.

“You think he’s doing this to you when, in reality, he’s doing thisfor you.”

“You’re being unreasonable and need to consider the possibilities.”

I contemplated his statement for a moment before quicklyrealizing this wasn’t a debate between my grandfather and me but an ambush from beyond the grave.

I narrowed my eyes at him, taken aback by what he meant.

Alfred nodded to the folder in front of me. “There’s a letter in there from your grandfather.” With that, he abruptly stood and walked toward my office door. “I’ll be outside once you’re ready, and then we can go over all the logistics. However, we don’t have a lot of time. You’re due in Mistletoe Town this afternoon to begin this year’s festivities and meet your new employees.”

“I can’t pick up and go like that,” I bit. “I have deadlines to meet with my clients and their homes.”

I was a general contractor with a thriving business. We focused on new builds and some remodels. I made a name for myself without the help of my family, and it wasn’t something I was going to give up without one hell of a fight. I had no interest in taking this on, whether he demanded it of me or not.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but you’ll have to figure it out. Like I said, you’re due in town this afternoon.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

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