Page 34 of The Christmas Eve Delivery

“Even though we have not agreed to anything at this point, the JM Carlisle Group has been sharing some really good ideas with us. They have suggested that we try to attract the kinds of businesses that would support the wedding industry.”

I turned my attention back to Dan. Turning Brookdale into a wedding destination was my idea. A pit started to form in my stomach. I had a very bad feeling about this.

The only person I had told about my wedding destination idea was Miles. And Miles…

Oh, crap, did Miles work for JM Carlisle? I never knew why Miles was in town. He never mentioned visiting family, or hiking, or anything. He was always just visiting. And I drove him around like his own private little tour guide.

Was he the reason I hadn’t been approached again? Was he supposed to be the person trying to convince me to sell the Sweet Mountain Inn? I felt sick to my stomach. I ran from the room and dashed into the restroom.

I wasn’t sick, but I couldn’t breathe. I gasped for air as I tried to get my mind to settle. Thoughts raced through almost as fast as my heart pounded. Had Miles been seducing me so he couldconvince me to sell the inn? If that was his goal, why had he offered to help me fix things up? I didn’t understand. If Miles wasn’t some kind of spy for JM Carlisle, then how did they come up with the suggestion of turning Brookdale into a wedding location?

The coincidences were too closely aligned. I had been a complete target, and I had danced right into their trap. I needed to find a way to get in touch with Miles. I needed to know how was he associated with JM Carlisle.

I really needed to know that I hadn’t slept with the enemy. And as far as I was concerned, anyone who wanted to buy up the beautiful properties in this town and demolish them for some characterless hotel was the enemy.

I splashed water on my face and returned to the community room. People had lined up and were asking questions. When someone asked what they should do if they wanted to sell, if it seemed like a good opportunity, I realized I couldn’t listen. I simply could not face the problem any longer.

I turned around and left. The rest of the committee could finish the meeting without me. I was too heartbroken.

18

MILES

Jackson sauntered into my office. He looked as if he was the cat that got both the cream and the canary. He was even humming.

“What’s gotten into you today?” I asked. “Or should I ask who have you gotten into?”

He smirked and shook his head.

“This is satisfying, but not that satisfying.” He cut a quick glance over his shoulder. “Don’t let her hear you saying anything like that. You’ll have an HR report up your ass for harassment.”

It was my turn to shake my head. “I know better than to say shit within earshot. But you do look very self-sure this afternoon. If it wasn’t a little dirty action during lunch, what’s up?”

Jackson sat in one of the low chairs in the conversation area. He propped his feet on the coffee table and crossed his ankles. “You’re going to want to give me a raise.”

“Unless you are delivering property title deeds, you’re dreaming about that raise,” I said as I crossed my office and joined him on the more comfortable chairs.

He laced his fingers together and put his hands behind his head. “I’ve made friends in small-town places.”

“I’m intrigued,” I admitted. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to coax it from you?”

“Pour me a drink and I will spill it all,” he said.

“You sound like a cheap date,” I said as I pushed to my feet. I poured two bourbons on the rocks and handed Jackson one of them.

“I have an insider in Brookdale. And I didn’t even have to play super spy and seduce them,” he said as he took a sip.

“Impressive,” I said. I rubbed my hands together eagerly. “Give me everything.”

“The guy would love nothing more than to sell out and get out of there. Says the winters are too much for his old bones. But he also knows if no one else sells, then he’s got no hope of selling his place. And he can’t afford to relocate someplace warm on what he knows he would get if he put his home on the open market.”

“Sounds like a motivated customer.”

Jackson shook his head slowly from side to side. “You thought the kids wanted to get out of that town. Nope, it’s the people on the other end of the work spectrum. The retirees want out. The kids have romantic delusions of that town. They think it could become something that the older generation just doesn’t believe is possible.”

I let out a long breath. Romantic delusions that described Lydia perfectly. She had dreams of making her little hometown something straight out of the movies, perfectly picturesque, quaint, and full of eccentric characters.

They were well on their way to filling out the character list for a show. They had a waitress at the local diner who called everyone hun and served the best damned cherry pie I'd had in my life. I should not have been so impressed with a fruity dessert that didn’t involve alcohol.

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