Page 37 of Meet Me on Christmas Eve

I smiled. “Don’t worry, I have a plan. We have a massive amount of old garland in storage that we never use, and it won’t take long. Even Jeff said he’d help.”

“Jeff?” She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “I don’t know what’s more shocking. That you—”

“Anyway,” I interrupted, turning back to Terry. “Um, I guess, thank you for delivering them. Are you … so you work at the tree farm too?”

He stared at me for a moment, and I couldn’t read his expression. “I work there. It’s mine.”

My eyes went wide, and my mouth curled into a reluctant smile. “Seriously? You sell Christmas trees?”

His face hardened then, his eyes steel as he muttered, “I know, it’s no shining resort on a hill.”

My face fell. “That’s not—I didn’t mean it like that. I thought … I think it’s cool.”

He wasn’t looking at me though.

Hazel stepped closer to me again. “Not that you deserve it, but I think she’s kinda paying you a compliment. She loves Christmas.”

His dark eyes changed then, looking more vulnerable as they shifted from Hazel to me. He seemed to want to speak, or maybe ask a question. Finally, he said, “Well, I ought to go get those trees.”

“Uh, do you need help?” I asked, my voice obviously reluctant.

He let out a small laugh. “Not really. They’re small trees, like you asked for.”

I nodded as he turned around, heading out the door. I might’ve watched his fine form a little too long because Hazel was eyeing me suspiciously when I finally turned back to her.

“A lost cause, eh?”

“I mean, obviously, right? You saw how badly that went,” I said, shaking my head. “Hopeless.”

Her lips twisted into a half smile. “Right…” Something about the way she held out the single syllable didn’t sit right with me. “Well, listen, I have to go call my agent. You’ll be OK here for a bit, right? Shouldn’t be too long, and then Jeff and the others will be here at noon, right?”

“Janine said Jeff might be running a little late, but her managers would all be there,” I explained. “I’m hoping we’ll have most of it done so they can go early.” But I cringed, thinking about what many of my staff would be doing when they got home. Worrying about whether their clothes would make the grade, whether they could afford their rent because they had to rent a suit or buy a fancy dress they’d never wear anywhere else.

“Don’t do that,” she said, watching me carefully. “I see what you’re doing. You didn’t realize until today. Know better, do better, right? You can change the dress code for next year.”

I looked at her, feeling some fear inexplicably, even though it was the right thing to do. I nodded, swallowing down the fear.

“You care about your people, Mari, I know you do,” Hazel said. “That’s why we got here at 6 am today to decorate. And your managers are helping us. Guess what most fancy resort owners would do? They wouldn’t lift a finger. They’d have their lowest-paid staff do it. And those lowest-paid staff? They’d probably be working at the party, not attending it as guests.”

I bit my lip, nodding a little. That was one change I’d made when I took over ownership—I’d made sure we hired caterers and outside staff to work the party. No resort staff had to actually serve at the party. If someone did, in an emergency, they were paid triple. I hadn’t ever considered this to be generosity but more of a result of my own experiences working here in the past as part of the lowest-tiered staff. “I guess so.”

“I know so.” Hazel looked at me a bit sadly. I could read her, just as she read me. She was thinking,Poor Mari is a wonderful person and doesn’t realize it.

But sometimes she was wrong.

With these thoughts, I waved to her and then headed toward the supply closet. Before I reached it though, Terry walked in, carrying the first tree. He looked around and, when he saw me, approached quickly.

“You never answered earlier. Where do you want these?” His voice was monotone. I couldn’t see his eyes, hidden behind the evergreen.

I attempted a polite smile. “You’re right, I didn’t. Sorry. I was thinking they could line those three walls at roughly equal intervals. So, that first one could go—” I stopped then, as he’d turned around and started walking toward the wall behind us, where he promptly put the tree down.

I just stared as he started quickly setting it up in the holder. Rushing over, I called out, “Oh, I can help. Or …” My voice died. “Looks like you got it,” I added weakly.

He stood quickly. “Yep.” Just like that, he turned and marched away.

I stood, mouth agape.

Well, OK then.

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