Page 9 of All I Want for Christmas

Charlotte laughed. “I was only joking,” but she pulled down her glasses and winked. Next to Charlotte I must have looked a mess. I was still in my barn clothes, mud caked on the toes of my work boots, and my patched Carhart pants had oil stains on them. But I would rather sit in the trendy café amongst all the wealthy skiers, than make small talk with Henri the writer.

Henri.

She was the sexiest woman I’d met in years. But, other than that, everything else about her was wrong. I had already made mistakes in my life, and with Henri I’d be repeating the past. I’d been involved with a writer before, and it had cost me everything.

No. The best way to avoid trouble was to avoid trouble.

The smell of fresh baked bread, icing sugar, and freshly ground coffee beans met us as I opened the door to the café for Charlotte.

“Thank you.” She stepped inside and waved to someone behind the counter. “Jack, do you know Megan?”

I didn’t recognize the woman behind the counter, but I did recognize the one in the black hat and red and white striped mittens who was ordering. My plan had backfired. I hadn’t avoided Henri- we’d run right into her.

“Jack? Are you alright?” I felt Charlotte’s hand on my arm.

The sound of spoons on saucers and espresso machines whirring came into focus. “Yeah.” I couldn’t bail on Charlotte now. What was the questions she’d asked?

I avoided looking at the woman in black who was now shaking cinnamon into her black coffee. The barista behind the counter smiled at me.

“No. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Megan yet.” Luckily her name was on her nametag. Even though Charlotte had said it seconds before, I’d been so distracted by Henri, that I’d instantly forgotten.

There were things that were great about living in a small town. Running into your neighbors was one of the things that people either loved or hated – and I usually loved it – but not that day. How many times was I going to have to see Henri before she got her story and left town.

FIVE

HENRI

With the carin the shop, I headed onto the street in the direction of the film set. One half of Main Street was open to traffic, the other was roped off. Heavy machinery was dumping piles of snow onto the street and film crew were working on what looked to be a snow machine.

“Extras on set in an hour.” A man with green hair rushed by me, shoving a lanyard with a tag into my hand as he passed. “No, don’t put that there.” He shouted and rushed away before I could explain that I wasn’t an extra, I was the press.

While the Main Street I had seen when I first arrived to Chance Rapids was tastefully decorated, this section looked like someone had dumped the entire inventory of the local department store’s Christmas aisle onto the street. I snapped a photo of the set and tucked the extra’s pass into my pocket, not believing my unbelievable luck. I strolled off the set, back into the real world of Chance Rapids, snapping photos of the street. I could picture a second chance romance unfolding in front of my eyes more realistically there, than on the set of the actual movie.

Remembering the divey area across the tracks, I decided to get a coffee for the walk to the literal ‘wrong side of the tracks.’ There’d be no holiday magic happening there.

The Sugar Peaks café was bustling. A pretty barista smiled at me from behind the counter. “What can I get for you, sweetheart?” She made eye contact with me, her kindness seeming so genuine it made me uncomfortable.

“A black coffee. Large. To go.” I recited my usual order while I scrolled through my phone.

“Are you in town for the movie?” she asked, as she handed me the paper cup of steaming coffee.

I didn’t feel like correcting her, and it also would be better for people to think I was there for the movie and not to expose the dark side of their town. “I am.” I smiled through the lie, but had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Welcome.” She took my cash and handed me my change. “Cute mittens.”

I realized that I was still wearing the Waldo inspired mitts. “Thank you.” I tucked the mittens into my pocket.

People watching at Sugar Peaks was fascinating. There seemed to be three distinct groups of people. As I sprinkled cinnamon into my cup, I decided to take a seat in the corner and watch the interactions of everyone around me.

I paused with the jar of cinnamon in my hand. A gust of cold air had rushed through the café and suddenly I felt someone’s eyes on me. I don’t know how I knew, but all of a sudden I didn’t want to turn around. It’s a weird feeling that I sometimes got, an intuition or something. My heart pounded against my chest, but I took a breath and told myself that I was being ridiculous. Dropping the stir stick into the trash can, I turned.

I wasn’t wrong.

Jack Lumber was standing next to a drop-dead gorgeous woman in a camel cashmere coat. The woman’s diamond ring glinted in the sun’s rays as she rested her hand on Jack’s arm.

Holy shit. I whispered under my breath. Was Jack Lumber married? Or engaged? Was that the reason he turned to ice this morning?

Our eyes met and I wasn’t sure who looked away first, him or me. I thought about leaving the café, but then changed my mind. I wasn’t going let Jack Ass change my plans. A young couple waved to the woman behind the counter and I slipped into their empty table behind them. It was the perfect spot- I could watch people on the street, and I could see everyone in the coffee shop.

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