Page 63 of Lighting Up Christmas

“No. I’m trade. I mean, I have my light fixtures, but they’re more for fun, and a challenge. I can hang a few in Sophia’s shop and call it good, and if I don’t sell…” She shrugged. “But a big portion of the artisans do most of their sales at these Christmas markets, and they committed to this weekend in Bear Creek and won’t be able to rent another spot elsewhere at other Christmas markets and festivals.”

She didn’t meet his gaze. Unusual for her. Then he got it. His stomach knotted.

“You want to use my big barn.”

Riley flinched. “Honestly”—she met his steady regard—“I thought of it straight off. It’s a perfect size. There’s parking. It’s beautiful, and it would be a chance for you to showcase your winery. To stick a flag in your brand and say ‘Here I am.’ And the town would owe you.”

“So why didn’t you ask?”

He assumed that’s what her friends or other people on this mysterious committee were texting her about, and yet Riley, who had had no trouble chasing him down, blocking in his truck, and shoving a card in his face, had hesitated, even as she helped him to create his first Christmas tree that he could or could not donate to the auction committee.

“Last week I would have. I would have had a whole oral presentation or PowerPoint to persuade you about how hosting the Christmas market would benefit your winery and the town and why you should do it.”

“But you haven’t.”

Totally unpredictable. Riley loved her town. She was involved. She was always making connections—electrical with her work, but also with people—hooking up his website just because he was too busy and too conflicted and hesitating. Mentoring kids, helping her friend, trying to beautify the park even after she’d been shut down trying to get on the meeting schedule. She thought of others before herself.

“No.” Her phone buzzed with another message. She slid it out of her back pocket and put it face down on the counter. “It’s starting to tickle.”

He barked a laugh. “Can I see the messages that are blowing up your phone?”

“Zhang, you’re private. And I respect that, and I want others to respect that. A lot of times when there is a wealthy person in a community, they are always hit up for this or for that, and I don’t want that for you. You came here to build somethingfor yourself and hopefully for your grandfather, and I thought maybe you just needed a little push to get your business going. But maybe you really do want it to be something for yourself and your friends. I’ve realized through talking to you that being alone doesn’t mean you are lonely.”

He would have said last week that her conclusion was correct, but now he was no longer sure. “But sometimes being alone is because you don’t know how to not be.”

“You confuse me,” she said quietly after the silence had stretched between them.

“You confuse me.”

“I like puzzles,” she whispered.

“Puzzles and problems obsess me. Keep me up at night.”

“Me too.” Riley smiled.

“Show me.” He indicated her phone and waved his fingers.

He scrolled through the messages.

“Quite dire.”

“Let it be said that Sophia is kicking off her thirties with an impressive amount of melodrama that I never would have suspected.”

“She cares about the town,” he murmured. He didn’t know her well, but she had been kind and she was a good friend to Riley, which meant she was a trustworthy, good person. His list from so long ago waved in front of his face: put down roots. Learn to interact more. Here was another opportunity if he seized it.

“Tell me,” he said, thinking back to the Zoom meeting he’d had with Jackson and his sales department this morning, “if I donated my barn and the surrounding area for this Christmas Market—”

Her head jerked up and her mouth dropped open.

“Could you, in two days, build me a Garden of Lights that would prove to the Bear Creek mayor and city council thatyour idea is a good one and then add onto it the following week to blow the minds of some high-rolling venture capitalists for a product tease party at the winery the weekend before Christmas?”

Chapter Twelve

“You are amazing.”Sophia hugged Riley Friday afternoon as she continued to drive stakes into the ground to hold up part of the body of her first spirit dragon. She had created four of them, one for each season.

She’d been receiving that sentiment a lot yesterday and today when the Downtown Association and Christmas Market heard the news that Fire Ridge Winery would play host this year. She’d been worried that Zhang hadn’t realized the true consequences of his rather startling agreement. Instead of jumping up and hugging him and shouting with joy and relief, Riley had continued to ask him if he was sure, to the point that he’d asked her if she wanted him to say no.

She hadn’t known what to say except the truth. “I want you to say yes, but I’m worried you should say no.”

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