Page 8 of Meet Me on Christmas Eve

A devilish smile graced her heart-shaped face. “The things I do for you.”

Chapter 3

Exactly one week later, I was eating an overpriced lobster soup in a pricy restaurant across the lake, just outside the Christmas village, when the village owner eyed me shrewdly and asked where I’d grown up.

I had prepared for a number of likely questions from Jane Christiansen, the village owner, but not for this. Why did she want to know? And more importantly, what the hell should I say?

“I grew up in a small town, probably not one you’ve heard of. So, Mrs. Chris—”

“I told you, call me Jane,” the woman said, sounding a bit irritated as she fluffed her short white curls. “What small town?”

I fought to contain my growing panic. “Salem, a few hours north of here,” I said quietly, leaning toward her in hopes that at least no one else would hear. I hadn’t wanted to lie; after all, she seemed like the kind of person who could find out the truth if she really wanted to investigate.

“Oh, I … yes, dear. Charming place, or at least it was back in the ’50s. So you are a Minnesota girl through and through.” She beamed.

I smiled in relief. I guess she just wanted me to prove that I was not some outsider, and I passed the test. I dared not look around me to see what the others were thinking though. I hoped no one had heard this exchange; I heard at least one other conversation happening around me.

Hazel was here as my counsel as usual, along with Jeff and two other business advisors. Janine, my general manager, was present as well. I didn’t really need her for this—or for most things—but Hazel was constantly trying to get me to delegate more and do less of the resort management myself. At least get an assistant, she’d begged. It made sense, in theory, but in practice, doing things yourself was more efficient and effective, I found.

“Honestly, I didn’t have high hopes for this meeting,” Jane said, louder this time to get the attention of everyone at the table. She looked at me briefly. “But I have to say I’m warming to the idea. I like you, Mariana.”

I smiled. “Likewise, Mrs.—Jane.”

“Let’s meet again next week, after I’ve had a chance to look this over with my partner.” Then she hastily added, “Not a formal business partner exactly, but she’s my wife and also my accountant. She’ll find all the holes in your offer.” She cackled then, the long, dangling earrings on her ears shaking.

Genuine hope sprung up within me, though I knew this was only a first step. “Thank you, Jane. I—”

“No more shop talk,” she cut me off, raising her wineglass. Her mouth twisted into a sly smile. “Well, at least not my shop. I want to hear all the latest resort gossip.”

I raised my eyebrows and opened my mouth to speak but didn’t get a chance.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked. We all know that your little hideaway for the rich and famous is not free of salacious happenings.”

She was certainly right. We did spend some time dealing with scandals, usually fueled by alcohol and spoiled young people, but sometimes the people embroiled in these situations were the ones you’d least expect. It was the least favorite part of my job—and the main reason I’d finally been convinced to hire a general manager. But discretion was prized at my resort—and I valued it myself highly. The last thing I needed was to tell these stories to a gossipy woman who’d surely tell all the other ladies she knew.

Still … I needed to give her something, if I wanted to win her over.

“Well, there was this one really, really smart guy. He had like three PhDs and had made millions from some tech company …” I looked over at Hazel, and she gave me a lopsided smile. “He ended up crying one night and proposing to one of my staff.” This was a fib, as Hazel wasn’t really a staff member. And he didn’t have that many PhDs. At least I didn’t think so. But it made for a more entertaining story and reduced the odds that she’d guess who it was.

Hazel snickered. “Well, he thought he was smart anyway.”

Jane looked intrigued and looked back and forth between Hazel and me. “OK, this could be interesting. If you won’t give me names, I need other details!”

I smiled, pretending to try to remember and nodding when Hazel gave me a brief nod of approval. Jane may not be hard to convince after all, and the village was well within my grasp.

*****

The Christmas village sat in the heart of Shipsvold, near the lake. This property I wanted to buy contained an outdoor rink, an old-fashioned theatre, decorated garden paths, a large playground, and a central area with a huge Christmas tree and lots of space for outdoor holiday musical events. Last but not least, spanning one whole side of the village was the large holiday-themed shop that was actually a significant tourist attraction in the Midwest.

A few days after meeting Jane, I was scouring this very shop for new decorations when I saw the most beautiful tabletop tree I’d ever seen. It would look perfect in the reception area. Or, hell, maybe I’d just take it for my own room. I decided to find someone who works here to get it boxed up but then got distracted by some gold and red ornaments that I just had to have.

Decorating for Christmas used to be one of my favorite things ever, and I hadn’t done it in years. Sure, the resort had some decorations, but I’d made the staff do it, pretending I didn’t care for the holiday. I was planning to go all out this year. And what better way to support the shop in Jane’s village than to explore and buy some new decor here?

When my shopping basket was overly full, I decided I should probably call it a day. Rounding a corner to head toward the cashier’s desk though, I almost collided with … an elf?

I saw the shoes first, and then my heart skipped a beat—or several—when I looked up and saw the face.

It was him.

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