Page 7 of A Billionaire's Holiday Love

CHAPTER TWO

HOPE

Five minutes later, we strolled down the street.

“Where are you from?”

“Aspen.”

“The ski capital?” I smirked up at him.

He chuckled. “Yup. Guess you can say I’m accustomed to the snow.” Noah held his gloved hand out. The large snowflakes melted in his palm.

“Yeah, you are. It gets cold in South Carolina, but not below freezing.”

I scanned the strings of white lights that dressed the shop windows and brick buildings. People bundled in their coats smiled at us in passing.

“You never considered moving somewhere warmer?”

“Nope. I love Aspen.”

Hands stuffed in my pockets, I leaned in. “Are you and avid skier?”

He laughed. “No. Not everyone from Aspen skis.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Noah nudged my arm. “I’m messing with you. Of course, I’m an avid skier and snowboarder. My parents couldn’t afford the best equipment growing up. But we made do with used skis and snowboards.”

“Same for us. Claire and I wanted our own sewing machines. They couldn’t afford two, so they bought one new machine for us to share. It wasn’t the top of the line or anything, but it was a great machine to practice our skills on. I have a younger brother too. Miles’ attends Georgetown University. He’s pursuing his masters' in education. He’ll help shape the young minds of tomorrow.”

He nodded. “We need more school teachers. There aren’t enough.”

“I agree. Teachers and doctors should earn similar salaries. Their jobs are arduous.”

“I can attest to that. My elementary teachers hated me. Never a dull day for my second-grade art teacher. I poured paint in a few students' chairs at least once a week.”

“You were a little terror,” I laughed.

“That’s why I agree they should get paid a lot of money for the crap kids put them through.”

“Right.”

“When did you jump ship and become a journalist?”

“In college. I wrote a few heart breaking stories I investigated around town. Sent them in to CNN and MSNBC. When a new anchor shares your story on TV it makes you think. My journalism professor at Georgetown said I had a knack for it. That was all she wrote. I haven’t looked back.”

I halted at my truck.

“This is me. Thanks for a nice evening, Mr. Scrooge.”

He bowed. “You’re welcome, Ms. Christmas.”

We laughed.

“I’ll get your door.”

I pressed the unlock button on the alarm keypad.

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