'Twas the Week Before Christmas (3 page)

Holly’s hazel eyes flickered in surprise. “Eager to get away, are you?”

Realizing he’d spoken too sharply, Max offered a smile. “Sorry, I just had some business to take care of in town.”

Holly narrowed her stare suspiciously. “We’ll have you in town shortly. Doubt anyone’s there yet at this hour anyway. Things move a little slower in Maple Woods than they do in the big city.”

Max glanced at his watch. She had a point.

“It will probably take about half an hour to clear the drive, so if you want to go sit by the fire, I can have someone bring you a cup of cocoa.”

Admitting defeat, Max realized it was hardly a compromise to relax for a bit in the warmth of the inn. A fresh waft of cinnamon filled his senses, bringing a resigned grin to his face. “How about another cup of that coffee instead?”

“Cream?”

“And sugar.”

Holly smiled and patted his arm in a reassuring manner. Feeling instantly foolish, Max stomped the snow off his loafers—boots were another purchase he’d need to make—and shrugged out of his coat. Sitting in one of the leather club chairs by the fire, he pulled out some financial projections and studied them.

“You weren’t lying when you said you were here on business,” Holly observed a few minutes later as she placed a steaming mug of coffee on an end table.

“Bad habit,” Max shrugged, quickly closing the folder. “I’ve got a lot going on back at the office. And I’ve never been good at sitting around and waiting.”

“Or relaxing?” Holly arched an eyebrow.

Max held up his hands and grinned. “I stand accused. Guilty as charged.”

Holly tipped her head thoughtfully. “Christmas is only five days away. I would think business would be slowing down.”

“Business never slows down. Not for me at least.” He stirred the cream in his coffee and noticed the steady stream of guests filing into the lobby. “But then, I guess the same goes for you.”

Holly smiled as she turned toward the gathering crowd. With a shrug, she said, “Yep. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Max dragged in a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. If she kept talking like this, she was going to make things a lot more difficult than he preferred.

He watched Holly retreat to the end of the lobby and fall easily into conversation with a middle-aged couple. She looked nothing short of gorgeous this morning, with her chestnut hair cascading over that creamy sweater that—even from this distance—looked so soft it was practically begging to be touched. Surely a woman as beautiful and sweet as Holly couldn’t be without a handful of men lining up and hoping for a date. She’d talked unabashedly about the inn all through their conversation the night before, but she hadn’t mentioned if there was someone special in her life. It didn’t appear there was, but Max intended to find out just to be sure.

Holly was exactly the kind of woman he imagined himself marrying—if he ever intended to get married, that is. And he didn’t. Marriage didn’t work—he’d lived long and hard enough to know that—even if he wished it did. The older he grew, the more he found himself wondering if maybe...but he always came to the same conclusion: nope, not for him. Some memories were too deep. Some facts were just facts.

So no, he didn’t have any intention of settling down with Holly, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from getting to know her a little better. And besides, if he managed to win her over, maybe Holly wouldn’t think twice about giving up this place and moving to the city herself.

* * *

“Drat!”

She’d done it again. Holly grabbed an oven mitt and threw all her upper-body strength into moving the enormous stainless-steel pot of hot chocolate to the back burner just before it boiled over. Flicking off the gas to the stove, she grabbed a ladle from the ceramic pitcher on the counter and began filling a dozen red thermoses with the bubbling concoction. She’d managed to save it just in time, and the aroma of freshly melted dark chocolate mixed with heavy cream was heaven for her senses. She—and more often Stephen—made this treat in batches during the fall and winter seasons, but despite years of practice, she almost always got so busy talking to a guest that the simmering pot would slip her mind. Today that guest had been none other than Max Hamilton. Of course.

Pulling a jar of homemade powdered-sugar-coated marshmallows from a shelf, Holly dared to steal a glance out the window above the sink. The snow was still falling steadily, but it was the threat of more that worried her. She’d overheard more than one guest grumble about the impending storm and the road conditions, and two others who were scheduled to arrive today had cancelled their reservations. With all the energy she’d poured into the holiday week’s events, it would be a shame to see none of it come to fruition.

Her heart ached a little when she considered her real concern. She couldn’t bear the thought of being alone at Christmas.

“Hello, hello!” Abby burst into the kitchen, all rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed. Snowflakes still spattered her eyelashes and she blinked rapidly to melt them.

“Hey there!” Holly brightened at the sight of her friend, comforted with the knowledge that she could at least spend the holiday with Abby and her husband Pete. She was their token charity case, she liked to joke. But the joke was becoming old. And she herself was becoming tired. Tired of being alone in this world. Tired of watching life pass her by. All she wanted was a family of her own. Was it really too much to ask?

Hard work usually eased the pain and kept her from thinking of how different life could have been and should have been, but Christmas brought a fresh reminder. It was her favorite time of the year, but it would be even more magical if she had someone special to share it with her.

“Um, Holly?”

Holly finished placing a marshmallow in each thermos and found Abby leaning against the counter and staring at her expectantly. “Yes?”

“Who is that
guy?
” Abby practically hissed the last word of her question, and the gleam in her eyes said everything.

“He’s our VIP.”

“Green Room?”

“Yep.” Holly heaved a sigh. It seemed everyone was as smitten with Max as she was. Chances were there were many more women back in New York with the same intentions.

“What do you know about him?” Abby reached for a lid and screwed it on top of a thermos.

“Thanks...I don’t know much about him actually. But we did—we did have a nice chat last night. He’s very nice.”

“Holly!” Abby squealed and did a little dance on the floorboards. “How long were you planning on keeping this from me?”

“It’s nothing,” Holly said, instantly regretting she had said anything at all. She was building this up to be more than it was. Max was her guest. And he would be leaving tomorrow.
If not sooner,
she thought, turning to the window with a sinking sensation. “He’s nice. That’s all.”

“No, that is not all!” Abby insisted. “And besides, a man like that is not
nice.
Nice is not an appropriate adjective at all.”

Holly snorted. “No? Do you have a better term then?”

“Dashing. Dapper. Completely irresistible.”

Holly smothered a laugh and shook her head. “Come on,” she said, picking up the rattan basket now loaded with the thermoses. “We’ve got a group eagerly waiting for a sleigh ride and we don’t want the hot chocolate getting cold before we’re even outside.”

Holly pushed through the kitchen door with Abby in tow, crossed through the dining room and ventured into the lobby, where nearly every guest was now gathered in their winter best around the roaring fire, awaiting the morning’s activity. Evelyn Adler had bundled herself into a royal-blue coat with a black fur collar and matching hat. Ever the lady of the house, Holly noted with a smile.

She set the basket on a table near the front door and peered out the window for a sign of the stable manager, Rob, and the horse-drawn sleigh. She searched farther out to the white barn at the north end of the estate, finally capturing some movement.

“Are you going on the sleigh ride?” Evelyn had come to stand near Holly.

Holly’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Oh, I’d love to, but I should really stay behind and take care of things.”

Evelyn cocked her head in Max’s direction. “Even if he goes?”

Holly’s chest tightened. “I don’t think he’s able to go, Mrs. Adler, and even if—”

But it was too late. Evelyn had gotten an idea into her head and she wasn’t about to let it go. Crossing the room to where Max sat sipping his coffee, Evelyn perched herself on the edge of a footstool and removed her fur hat. She patted her silvering hair, pulled neatly into a low bun, and smiled almost...girlishly.

Holly’s eyes darted to Mr. Adler, who was watching his wife from a few feet away with a bemused expression. Holly dared to near Max’s chair, half dreading what she braced herself to hear.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Evelyn thrust a small-boned hand at Max. “Evelyn Adler. This is my husband, Nelson.”

“Max Hamilton. A pleasure, Mrs. Adler.” He turned to the older man and nodded. “Mr. Adler.”

“Oh, call me Evelyn.
Please,
” Evelyn practically cooed.

Holly felt her brow pinch. In all the years she had known Evelyn, she had never been granted the same courtesy.

“Evelyn,” Max repeated, his tone laced with amusement.

“Is this your first time at the inn?” Evelyn inquired.

“Indeed it is.”

Holly’s heart warmed at Max’s patience with Evelyn, but she still didn’t trust her most loyal guest from taking liberties. Evelyn had made herself very comfortable at The White Barn Inn over the years and, aside from a few formalities she adhered strictly to, she had taken a shining to Holly’s personal life over time. Too much so.

“Mrs. Ad—” she attempted as a polite interruption but Evelyn waved her hand dismissively and refused to so much as spare a glance in Holly’s direction. Frustrated, Holly began neatly stacking a pile of magazines, making sure she was just within earshot. Evelyn wasn’t going to let up, and Holly couldn’t resist gleaning as much insight into Max as possible.

“So you’re here alone, then,” Evelyn was saying now, an edge of mock disappointment in her voice. “Well, a young man as handsome as yourself must have someone special waiting back home!”

Holly cringed but held her breath, hoping to hear Max’s reply above the din of the other guests in the lobby.

“Not really,” Max said smoothly, and Holly felt a wave of fresh excitement wash over her. She tried to push it aside as quickly as it enveloped her. She failed miserably.

“What a pity!” Evelyn slid her blue eyes over to Holly and gave a pointed stare.

Holly clenched her teeth and wondered if Max was obtuse enough not to see through this meddling. She doubted it. Frantically searching for an excuse to pull Evelyn’s attention away from Max, she bolted upright at the jungle of sleigh bells on the drive. “Sleigh’s here!”

Evelyn’s interest, however, did not waver. “Will you be joining us for the sleigh ride? My husband and I look forward to it every year. So...
romantic
.”

Okay, this had gone far enough! Feeling out the situation was one thing. Pushing it was another. “Max,” Holly said. “I think that Hank is almost finished plowing the drive. I know you were anxious to get to town.”

“Oh, but he might want to go on the sleigh ride, Miss Tate!”

“Miss Tate?” Max flashed Holly a wicked grin.

Bristling, Evelyn remarked, “Of course. What do you call her?”

“Holly.”

Evelyn’s eyes snapped open. “Oh, I
see,
” she said meaningfully, giving Holly a knowing look.

Holly bit back the urge to raise her eyes skyward. If she didn’t love Evelyn so much she would throttle her!

“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you for the sleigh ride today, Evelyn.” Max set his coffee mug back on the end table. “I’m afraid I have some business in town to attend to this morning.”

Evelyn deflated into her wool coat and pursed her lips. “Pity.”

“Come along, Evelyn.” Nelson reined in his wife by physically grabbing her at the elbow and then, more tenderly, placing her little hat back on her head. The pair scuttled toward the door to collect their thermoses and then laced fingers as they waited for the sleigh ride to board. Holly felt a sharp pang slice through her chest. She turned to see Max staring at her.

“Sorry about that,” Holly said.

Max shook his head. “They’re sweet.”

“They are. And very loyal, too. In many ways, Evelyn reminds me of my own grandmother.” Holly’s mind flitted to her childhood memories in this very home. Those were happy times.

“Evelyn?” Max arched a dark eyebrow and his blue eyes gleamed. “You mean
Mrs. Adler,
right?”

Holly gave him a rueful smile. “You sure you don’t want to go on the sleigh ride?”

“Nah, I should get into town.”

Holly nodded, hoping she masked the disappointment she felt.

Max pushed himself from the chair and buttoned his coat. Holly winced at how inappropriately he was dressed.

“Main Street is just a few miles west, correct?”

“Correct.” Noticing the silk tie peeking out from under his dress coat, Holly again pondered the reason for his visit. There was little business in the corporate sense on Main Street. With the exception of a bank, attorney’s office and local doctor, only shops and a few dining options lined that stretch. Unless he was here to do something about the library... Now, that was an idea.

“Lunch is at noon?”

“Yes,” Holly affirmed. She had the growing sense that he was lingering. Not that she minded, obviously. Max hadn’t even left yet and already she was missing him. He was a sight she could get used to around this old house. Easily.

“I’ll be back by noon, then,” Max said, his eyes still locked with hers.

Breaking free from his hold on her, Holly reached for his empty mug. “Drive safe. It’s slick out there.”

“See you later,” Max said. A devilish grin curled his lips when he added,
“Miss Tate.”

Chapter Three

T
he long drive to the main road was cleared, but the three-mile drive to the center of town was not. Max squinted through the snow, which was gaining momentum, the wipers doing little to keep the powder from accumulating on the windshield. Maneuvering his rented SUV through the snow banks, Max discovered he had a newfound reason for preferring city life.

It was a welcome reminder. He was becoming too relaxed in Maple Woods. He belonged in the big city; he knew it. He just needed to remember it.

Turning onto Main Street, Max clenched his jaw at the sight. Pine garlands wrapped around every lamppost, sealed with joyful crimson bows. Wreaths hung on the door of every shop. Pristine white snow covered every rooftop. Everything was almost eerily calming and peaceful.

It was like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. But he would not allow himself to be seduced by its charm.

Pulling to a stop at the address he had jotted down, Max stepped out of the vehicle and paid the meter for the maximum time. He hoped it wouldn’t take more than half an hour to convince the mayor of his plan, but if it took all day, so be it. He had no intention of leaving town without that land.

Business was in trouble and it had been for some time. People weren’t shopping in malls anymore. They preferred the convenience of online shopping, the gratification of making a purchase in their pajamas at midnight, the thrill of receiving a package with their name on it in the mail five days later. Of Hamilton Properties’ existing portfolio, half the centers were struggling. Development initiatives had been placed on hold for two years, but too much man power, time and energy had gone into this project. And big-name retailers were depending on him to get the job done. If he didn’t, more than one department store was already threatening to pull out of under-performing centers. Without those anchors, the struggling malls would collapse.

Hamilton Properties had seen three of their competitors file bankruptcy. Only one other remained in business, and they’d already made more than one offer to buy out Hamilton’s portfolio. But Max wasn’t going down without a fight. He had built this company from the ground up, founding it when he was only twenty-two. It had been a roller-coaster of ups and downs over the years, and lately it had been mostly downhill, but he wasn’t ready for the ride to be over. Not yet.

“Max Hamilton to see Mayor Pearson,” he said confidently to the friendly woman behind the reception desk.

“Just have a seat, he’ll be out shortly. Last-minute phone call and all that.” The woman smiled at him as her eyes roamed over his chest, narrowing on his tie. “Not from around these parts, are you?”

Max spared a wry grin. “That obvious?”

“Most folks in Maple Woods don’t wear suits and ties. Especially on days like this,” she said. Her smile brightened to reveal a dimple when she admitted, “But I like a man in a suit. Always did.”

Max nodded and rocked back on his heels, his eyes taking in the miniature Christmas tree on the woman’s desk. She’d even hung tiny metallic ornaments on its small, plastic branches. Her sweater had a snowman knitted into it with some sort of textured yarn. Christmas carols bleated softly from the radio on the corner of her desk and at least fifty holiday cards were propped on every filing cabinet, desk, or other surface.

Seems Holly isn’t the only one who loves Christmas,
he mused.

Max raked his fingers through his hair and stepped away from the desk. It was definitely time to get back to New York.

A set of leather chairs was lined against the wall. Max sat down on the farthest and pulled a magazine from a pile on the coffee table. Absentmindedly flicking through it, his gaze shifted back to the woman at the desk, who was now humming along to some holiday tune, munching on a Christmas cookie and casually directing the computer mouse with her free hand.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed when she felt his stare. She brushed the crumbs from her mouth guiltily. “Did you want a cookie?”

Max held up a hand and gave a tight smile. “No. Thank you.”

The woman frowned. “You sure? They’re good. Promise. I made them myself.”

Max glanced to the mayor’s door. “I shouldn’t, but thanks again.”

He returned his focus to the magazine, feeling anxious and out of place. He shouldn’t have worn the suit. It might turn the mayor off; might make him think Max was strolling into town looking to tear things down and take over. It wasn’t his intention at all. But it might just look that way.

Max looked back to the receptionist, who was now plucking another cookie from her tin. “Can I ask you a question?”

The woman looked up and beamed, flattered to be asked for an opinion. “Certainly!” she exclaimed, opening her eyes wide.

“Think I should lose the tie?” Max grinned.

The woman’s lips pursed in pleasure. “Definitely.”

* * *

The mayor’s office was decoration-free, making it easy for Max to get down to business. He sat down in the seat offered to him and accepted a cup of coffee. Mayor Pearson was an amiable sort with a warm laugh and strong handshake, and Max was immediately put at ease. So long as he didn’t come across as some corporate bigwig in from the city looking to stir up trouble, he should be able to have a reasonable conversation with the mayor over what would best serve the town of Maple Woods.

And he knew in his heart that an upscale shopping center on the outskirts of town—on the land that currently housed The White Barn Inn—would be a win-win for everyone.

Everyone except for Holly, that is he thought with a frown.

“It’s a stunning rendering,” Mayor Pearson said, leaning over the desk to take a closer look at the blueprints. “It doesn’t look like the shopping malls I’m used to frequenting.”

“We try and design our centers with their location in mind,” Max explained. “It’s important that the mall have the architectural integrity of the town so that it just sort of...melts in with its surroundings.”

The mayor gave the drawing silent consideration before releasing a long, heavy sigh. Relaxing into a high-backed swivel chair behind his desk, he said, “I’ll admit that I’m intrigued. That being said, I can’t be sure what the planning board will say, and they would ultimately make the decision.”

Max nodded. “I understand there are lots of moving parts here, Mayor.”

“Of course, there’s George Miller to consider. His family has owned that land for longer than I can remember. If he’s not willing to sell, my opinion doesn’t even matter.”

Oh, he’ll sell,
Max thought. To the mayor he said, “I plan to speak with him as soon as possible. I wanted to give you the courtesy first.”

“I appreciate that,” the older man said. “And I’d also appreciate if you kept your business here quiet unless things move forward. Maple Woods is a small town, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, and people around here don’t like change very much.”

“I’ll be discreet,” Max promised.

Mayor Pearson tented his fingers. “The financials you have here are very solid and I’m sure you’re aware that we lack proper funding needed to re-open the town library, which unfortunately had to be closed until we can repair the structural damage that occurred in a recent fire. The library means a lot to this town—it isn’t just a library. It also serves as our community center.”

“I heard something about it, yes.” The article mentioned that an entire wing had been nearly destroyed—Max understood firsthand the resources an undertaking like that would involve.

“People don’t understand why we can’t start rebuilding the portion of the building that was damaged and reopen the place. Or why we haven’t already done so. It’s just not as simple as that.” The mayor paused. “As you can imagine, this doesn’t bode well for me. Or a re-election.”

Max tipped his head with renewed interest. “That’s a tough position.”

“Very tough. The thing I’ve learned about being in office is that you can’t please everybody. And believe me, if we bring in engineers and construction crews to rebuild that library, someone would be in an uproar that we didn’t use the money to build a new wing onto the school.”

Max chuckled. “I can assure you that the taxes you would garner from the center would change things for this town.”

“Oh, I know it would change things, and that’s why I agreed to meet with you. If I might have a day or two to look over these papers, it would help me in making an argument to the planning committee. But I don’t plan on saying a word to them unless George Miller agrees to this. I’m already on the hot seat over this library fiasco.”

“I’m not sure you’re aware of the urgency of the matter. It appears that George Miller plans to transfer the deed of the land to The White Barn Inn as of Christmas day,” Max said.

Mayor Pearson widened his eyes. “Ah.”

“I could be wrong but I have to assume that the owner of the inn—Holly Tate—might be less than inclined to sell. So you see, I would prefer to get this wrapped up before Christmas. If possible.”

“You do realize that Christmas is five days away?”

Max grimaced. “I’m fully aware. I hadn’t realized I would be faced with this situation. I would have acted sooner if I had known.”

The mayor lowered his brows. “Do you always do business the Friday before Christmas?”

Max decided not to give the answer to that question. He skirted it by saying, “It’s not Christmas yet. It seemed as good a time as any.”

“Guess that’s why you make the big bucks.” Mayor Pearson peered at Max, and for a split second, Max swallowed hard, nervously hooking one leg over the other. His mind drifted to Holly, to the image of her cheerfully bustling about the dining room in that soft creamy sweater and slim charcoal skirt that hugged her curves in all the right places. His stomach rolled a bit with unease.

Finally, the mayor spoke. “A retail establishment of this size will bring revenue to the town. However, it will also change the dynamic. My parting words to you are these. Tread lightly.”

Max gritted his teeth and nodded in understanding. Following the mayor’s lead, he stood and accepted his firm grip. The meeting was over.

“Let me know when you’ve talked to George Miller,” the mayor said. “Then we’ll have a better chat. Right now, my hands are tied. I’m of no use to you yet.”

Max nodded once more and turned to the door with the sinking sensation that very little had transpired in the meeting at all. He had the mayor’s approval, but it wasn’t his decision to make. Max would have to convince George Miller first. And then the planning committee. And if George didn’t agree...he’d have to sway Holly.

He couldn’t even think about that right now.

“Oh, and one last thing,” the mayor said as Max turned the door handle.

Max turned and his pulse skipped. “Yes?”

Mayor Pearson smiled. “Merry Christmas!”

* * *

The shops along Main Street had already opened by the time Max marched out of the mayor’s building. Pairs of locals scurried along the shoveled sidewalks, ducking in and out of stores, stocking up on supplies before the storm and scrambling with last-minute Christmas shopping.

Max stopped and glanced at a few window displays, all of which were targeted for the holiday, of course. Santa’s village in the stationery store. Elves in the children’s boutique. If plans for the mall went through, independent shops along this stretch would probably struggle to survive. None of these stores would be able to compete with national retailers, or their competitive prices.

Max sighed, releasing a long ribbon of steam, and paused in front of a store window, noticing that even the bookstore boasted jolly, fuzzy snowmen in its display case.

There was no escaping it. Maple Woods was a town consumed with Christmas.

At least in New York, he could hunker down at the office or his apartment and forget about the festive activities going on around him.

Max felt his mouth slide into a smile in spite of himself. He’d dated many women in New York over the years, but he’d never encountered a girl like Holly before, and certainly none with her zest for the holidays. Although, in fairness, he’d never really dated a woman long enough to be with someone for Christmas.

Max put his blueprints in the trunk of his car and, after checking the meter and realizing that he had used very little of the time he had paid for, he strolled down the sidewalk in search of some basic necessities.

A jungle of bells chimed when he pushed through the doors to a sporting goods store. He selected some thick wool socks, a scarf, hat and a pair of heavy-duty boots. If today’s meeting was any indication of things to come, he wouldn’t be leaving Maple Woods anytime soon, and he might as well make himself comfortable for the duration of his stay. He’d assumed he could come into town, meet with the mayor and spend the rest of the day getting a feel for the town before heading out the next morning. Unforeseen complications were never welcome when it came to business. Throw Holly into the mix, and Max had the unsettling sensation that personal complications were equally threatening.

From a neatly folded pile on a display table, he selected three thick sweaters and a pair of corduroy pants and, after a brief hesitation and the memory of that cold, icy wind slicing through his overcoat, he grabbed a down parka from a nearby rack.

“Do you know where I can get a cup of coffee around here?” he asked the clerk as he handed over his credit card.

The kid arched an eyebrow and studied him. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Max shrugged. “Know a good place?”

“There’s not much to do in Maple Woods,” the kid elaborated, and Max detected a hint of resentment in his tone. Teenagers. “You’ve got your bar. You’ve got your pizza parlor. And you’ve got your diner.”

“Just a cup of a coffee will do,” Max said patiently.

“Try Lucy’s Place.”

Max felt a wave of exasperation take hold. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know Lucy.”

“Lucy’s Place. It’s the name of the diner.” The kid shook his head and hissed out of a breath. “You really aren’t from around here.”

Max inhaled sharply, but something inside him resonated with this surly kid. He was once like that. Small-town boy with big-city dreams. Desperate to break free and never look back. “Where can I find this Lucy’s Place?”