Читать книгу A Stonecreek Christmas Reunion - Michelle Major - Страница 11
ОглавлениеMaggie glanced around the illuminated town square later that night. Just as Jacob promised, everything looked perfect. She was relieved and grateful that so many residents had attended the lighting of the town Christmas tree and were now taking part in the Winter Wonderland festival. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of which event was happening on what night. Stonecreek’s community calendar was as jam-packed as a socialite’s in the middle of the Season.
But they were a small town without any big industry or corporation to anchor them. Tourism was a huge deal, all year round. The popularity of Harvest Vineyard helped with that, especially during the fall. That fact didn’t make her breakup with Griffin any easier, just as it had complicated calling off the wedding to Trevor in the spring. Somehow she and their mother had managed to keep a friendly working relationship. Jana Stone had even become something of a mentor to Maggie, although they hadn’t spoken much in the weeks since Griffin left for Seattle.
She hoped that could change now that he’d returned, whether or not he chose to stay. Maggie liked having an experienced woman to talk to and bounce ideas off since she was trying to pull back from discussing town business with her grandmother.
Grammy meant well but it was often difficult for her to remember that she’d retired from the position of mayor, and although Maggie loved her, she wouldn’t be a puppet to her grandmother’s whims regarding how the town should be run.
“Everything looks beautiful.”
Maggie whirled around to find her grandmother standing directly behind her, Christian Milken, the CEO of LiveSoft, at her side.
Grammy frowned. “Mary Margaret, are you blushing?”
Maggie pressed a hand to her cheek and smiled at them both. “No, of course not. I think it’s the cold.”
“It’s still nearly fifty degrees,” her grandmother pointed out. “Unseasonably warm for December.”
“I’m wearing a coat,” Maggie said, even though the light jacket she’d worn over her red fit-and-flare dress offered little warmth, as it was more for fashion than function. She shrugged out of it anyway.
“That’s a lovely dress,” Christian said.
“Thanks.”
“I’m curious to know what you were thinking of just then.” Grammy shook her head and lowered her voice to a whisper. “No time to sit on your laurels, girly. We started off the competition with a bang but we’ll need to keep up the full-court press if we’re going to convince LiveSoft to choose Stonecreek.”
“Right.” Maggie offered an awkward smile to Christian. Even Grammy’s quiet voice had a way of carrying. Now she really was blushing, embarrassed that her grandmother had so quickly and carelessly reduced an evening of holiday cheer to something almost mercenary in nature.
Yes, she wanted to win the competition—her town could use the influx of revenue and jobs. What town couldn’t?
But tonight was also about having fun and kicking off the holiday season. Maggie loved Christmas. Some of her fondest memories from childhood, before her mother’s death, were of how special the holidays had been. They’d cut down a real tree out in the woods every year, strung popcorn as garland and sung carols around the fire. Her mom had been a fantastic baker, and Maggie had been so proud to deliver cookies to neighbors and friends.
She’d tried her best to keep some of the family traditions alive once her mom died, but it hadn’t been easy. Then she’d gotten busy with her own life and it felt like her family had lost something precious. She’d moved back to her house two weeks ago when the tenants she’d rented it to had decided to return to Alabama a few months early. But she’d vowed to make this Christmas extra special for her younger siblings, Morgan and Ben, and their father. Along with her extra work on the town’s campaign for LiveSoft, she hoped to keep herself so busy she wouldn’t have any time to miss Griffin.
“I need to talk to Dora about the uneven icing on her cookies,” Grammy said, already looking past Maggie. “Mary Margaret, entertain Christian please.” Without waiting for an answer, Vivian walked away, much like Maggie imagined the queen would after giving an order to one of her faithful servants.
“I used to know how to juggle,” she told Christian with a shrug. “But I’m pretty rusty and fresh out of props.”
“Know any magic tricks?” he asked, raising a thick brow. “Or a good knock-knock joke?”
Maggie laughed and shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. But I do know the ladies over at the high school boosters’ booth make the best hot chocolate in town. Would you like to join me for a cup?”
“That sounds perfect.”
She glanced at Christian out of the corner of her eye as they got in line at the booth. He was handsome in a country-club sort of way, short blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He was always clean-shaven from what she’d seen and favored tailored shirts and pressed jeans with expensive-looking loafers.
She’d done her research on the CEO, born and raised in Boston to a former senator and his homemaker wife. Christian had attended private schools and then graduated from Harvard before moving to the West Coast to start LiveSoft. He’d been one of the company’s founders, although she remained fuzzy on his role in developing the app. However, he’d become the face of the brand and was thought to be responsible for much of the company’s meteoric growth.
In fact, social media and marketing were his specialties. The public campaign to help choose the company headquarters had been his idea.
“I hope you enjoyed tonight,” she said, inclining her head toward the towering Christmas tree in the center of the square. “And not just because of the competition, despite what Grammy would have you think.”
“It was great,” he said. “Very Norman Rockwell.”
“We’re all community spirit around here,” she said, then cringed. “I hate that everything I say to you sounds like I’m selling Stonecreek.”
“I don’t mind,” he insisted. “We were in Timmins last night and they tried to manufacture snow and ended up causing a minor flood in the elementary school gym.”
“Oh, my,” she breathed. They stopped at the back of the long line for hot chocolate. “At least we didn’t go that over the top.” She arched a brow. “Unless you like over-the-top and I’ll make sure to ramp things up.”
“Move aside, people!”
Maggie glanced sharply toward the covered booth in front of them as the crowd parted. Grady Wilson, who ran the only locally owned gas station in town, made his way forward, elbowing people out of the way as he did. Grady’s grandson was the quarterback for the high school football team, so he and his wife were very involved in the boosters.
Grady grinned at Maggie. “Our beloved mayor and potential beloved town savior shouldn’t have to wait for a hot drink.”
“It’s fine,” Christian called, waving a hand. “I don’t mind waiting my turn.”
“Town savior?” Maggie muttered, shaking her head. “I guess we’ve got over-the-top covered after all.”
Grady approached them with a wide smile, a steaming cup in each hand. “Nonsense,” he insisted. “I gave you both extra whipped cream too. Our Maggie here’s a big fan of whipped cream.”
Christian raised a brow in her direction, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
She felt color rise to her cheeks again. Grady certainly didn’t mean his comment to sound like a sexual innuendo, but somehow it came out that way.
As she thanked him for the hot chocolate, she noticed the assistant who’d filmed the lighting of the town tree earlier standing a few feet to the side, her phone held aloft like she was taking a video of this episode.
“You stick with Maggie,” Grady told Christian. “She’ll make sure you’re in good hands.”
Maggie darted another look at the camera then forced a bright smile. “Everyone in Stonecreek is excited about this opportunity,” she announced. “Aren’t we, folks?”
The people in line gave an enthusiastic round of applause—bless them—and Christian toasted Maggie’s cup of hot chocolate. “To new opportunities,” he said, making his voice loud enough to carry and earning more clapping.
As they turned to head back toward the center of the square, he leaned in closer. “And to extra whipped cream,” he whispered, his voice teasing.
“That did not mean what you might have thought it meant,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Are we still on camera?”
He shrugged but kept his gaze forward. “Danielle was going to get some extra footage in case she needed filler, but I doubt it will be used and there’s no audio with it.”
“Okay, good. I’m not used to my every move being documented.”
“Aren’t you on social media?” he asked, brows pinching.
“Yes, but I’m not active. It doesn’t come naturally to me.”
“That’s why you need LiveSoft,” he told her. “The app can organize everything for you in a way that makes it less overwhelming and more streamlined.” He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “Now I sound like a walking advertisement for my own company. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. You have a great product. I do plan to use the app, although I’m horrible with technology.”
“I could give you a tutorial,” he offered. “Maybe over dinner one night next week? I’m heading out early tomorrow to get ready for a meeting on Monday, but I’ll be back by the end of the week.”
“Dinner?” she said, her voice coming out in a squeak.
“You’ve heard of it, right?” His smile was teasing and more than a little flirty.
Christian Milken was flirting with her. She fought the urge to check on the camera again. How was it possible that she’d just sworn off men, and suddenly, in the span of twenty-four hours, Griffin had reappeared and Christian was asking her out? Okay, wait. Maybe she was reading too much into this. If Stonecreek was chosen as LiveSoft’s headquarters, he’d be relocating here. He probably was just being friendly...neighborly even.
“Of course,” she said with forced cheer. “Dinner would be lovely.”
“Not as lovely as you,” he murmured and lifted his hand to trace a finger along her jaw.
So much for being neighborly.
A throat cleared behind Maggie, and she whirled around to find Griffin standing there, a wine bottle in each hand. His expression was dark as midnight, his green eyes intense on her.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said through clenched teeth.
She shook her head, swallowing down the lump of emotion that welled in her throat at the sight of him.
“Have you met Christian Milken?” she asked stepping back to include the CEO in the conversation.
“That’s why I’m here.” Griffin’s voice was tight but he gave Christian a friendly smile. “I’m Griffin Stone from Harvest Vineyard. We donated a few bottles of wine for the silent auction earlier, and I thought you might like to add a couple to your collection.”
Christian took one of the bottles Griffin held out and studied the label. “Pinot Noir. That’s my preferred type.”
“I heard.” Griffin flicked a glance toward Maggie then back to Christian. “We’re all excited about the potential of having you make Stonecreek your new headquarters. I can tell you it’s a fantastic place for a growing business. The town does its best to make sure the business community is taken care of.”
Maggie’s fingers tightened around her cup of hot chocolate. Here was one more example of a perfectly innocuous comment sounding vaguely suggestive to her ears. Like she was personally responsible for servicing local business owners. She knew Griffin didn’t mean it that way, any more than Grady had, and hoped Christian understood it too.
“I’m coming to appreciate what Stonecreek has to offer more with each moment,” Christian said, inclining his head toward her.
Griffin’s broad shoulders went even stiffer, if that was possible. Not that Christian would notice. Griffin wore faded jeans, another thick flannel shirt and a baseball cap with the Harvest Vineyard logo stitched on the front. To the casual observer, he’d appear to be relaxed and easy-going, just another resident helping to make a good impression.
But Maggie could feel the tension radiating from him.
“The business owners around here support each other,” she said with patently fake cheer. “It’s one of the things that make us stand out.”
“Among others,” Christian murmured softly.
“Harvest is a great example of that,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Griffin’s father founded the vineyard. From the start, and especially in the past few years, they’ve become a leader in the Oregon wine industry.”
Christian adjusted the scarf wound around his neck and nodded. “I met your brother last week,” he told Griffin. “He has some big plans for expansion.”
“Yes, he does,” Griffin agreed almost reluctantly. “But we’re also focused on environmental stewardship and the type of community we create. Our entire team contributes to the end product. We want to make our company healthy for the land and the people who work for us.”
“I like the sound of that.” Christian’s blue eyes lit with interest. “Work-life balance is one of the tenets LiveSoft was founded on.”
Maggie drew in a steadying breath as the two men discussed company culture as well as environmental building practices. She also had a moment to observe the two of them, both attractive but so different in looks and temperament. Despite his obvious enthusiasm for the topics, Christian remained almost aloof as he spoke with Griffin, every inch the tall and lean corporate executive. Griffin was earthy and raw, gesturing with his hands, his brows furrowing as he considered the other man’s ideas. And when he scrubbed a hand over the stubble that shadowed his strong jaw, Maggie’s insides tightened.
Would she ever not have that kind of visceral reaction to him?
“I’d like to set up a time to visit your operation,” Christian said. “I was only planning on staying in town for a day next week, long enough to shoot footage for the next installment of the social media story. But if you could carve out an afternoon, I can push the next stop on my small-town tour?”
“Sure,” Griffin said, glancing at Maggie. “Happy to show you around. Anything for Stonecreek.”
She knew he wasn’t happy to spend any more time with LiveSoft’s polished CEO than was absolutely necessary. The look he shot her was brief, a slight raise of his brows and a flash in his green eyes. In that moment she understood the only reason he was being the least bit cordial was to help her.
What was she supposed to make of that after she’d just cut him out of her life a day earlier?
“Thank you,” she told him.
“You should come out too, Maggie May,” he answered with a far too innocent smile. “Our plans at Harvest might interest you, as well.”
She opened her mouth to argue but Christian put a hand on her back. “Great idea. We can talk more about how LiveSoft might fit into the current community and what our employees are looking for with regard to the balance between work and their personal lives.”
“Sure,” she answered, her cheeks aching from so much fake smiling. “Um...text me.”
“I will.” Both men answered at the same time, only adding to the awkwardness of the moment, at least for Maggie.
She turned up the wattage on her smile, surprised her cheeks didn’t begin to crack. “Sounds good,” she answered both of them at once. “Right now I’m going to go help with cleanup.”
“Doesn’t Jacob Snow usually handle that?” Griffin asked.
“I’m here to support everyone,” she said sweetly. “You fellas have a great evening.” Without waiting for a response from either of them, she turned and walked away.
After tossing her empty hot chocolate cup into a nearby trash can, she massaged her fingers against her temples. Was it possible she’d sworn off men only to find herself torn between two of them?
* * *
Griffin stalked into O’Malley’s Tavern after finally ditching Christian Milken. The man might run one of the hottest app-development companies in the industry, but he seemed like a total tool to Griffin. His distaste had plenty to do with Milken’s obvious infatuation with Maggie.
Griffin had come to the Winter Wonderland festival under the pretense of checking on the Harvest wine donation, but he’d also hoped to see Maggie. His life might be an unholy mess at the moment, but he wasn’t ready to give up on her. He understood the way he’d left had hurt her, and he wasn’t ready to talk to her about Joey, but he’d returned to Stonecreek and planned to stay. Now he just needed Maggie to let him back into her life.
Granted, she wasn’t aware of either of those revelations yet. In fact, Griffin had just made the commitment to himself earlier in the day. It was walking the fields with Joey that had done it. The boy had been fascinated by the rows of vines, reaching out to touch the curving stalks and listening intently as Griffin explained the growing cycle of the grapes. As his mother noted, the boy’s interest had reminded Griffin of himself when he was a kid. No matter what had been going on in his life and how bad things had gotten with his dad, he’d always found solace in the fields.
He understood that Joey’s grief from the loss of his mother couldn’t be easily overcome, but he believed with his whole heart that being in Stonecreek would be a help rather than a hindrance to the boy’s healing.
As it had become for Griffin.
Maggie and her unfailing dedication to the community were a big part of what had helped him feel connected to the town again. She had every right not to trust him, but he was bound and determined to convince her he deserved another chance. He’d be the kind of man who deserved her.
Even if that meant helping to convince that far-too-slick-for-Griffin’s-taste CEO to relocate his company there.
After just a few minutes in the guy’s presence, Griffin needed a beer. He’d texted his mom and she’d confirmed Joey was sound asleep. One quick drink before heading back couldn’t hurt.
He waved to Chuck, the bartender and longtime owner of the pub then slid onto one of the wooden stools in front of the bar.
“Fancy meeting you here,” a familiar voice said, and Griffin suppressed a groan as he turned to see his brother, Trevor, in one of the booths that ran along the wall next to the bar.
“I called you earlier,” Griffin answered, slapping down a crisp bill on the bar when Chuck placed a beer in front of him.
“You two plan to meet up like this?” the bar owner asked with a knowing wink.
“Lucky coincidence,” Griffin muttered.
So much for a few minutes to unwind. He picked up the beer and moved to the booth, slipping in across from Trevor.
“To Christmas in Stonecreek,” his brother said, raising a glass of amber liquid for a toast.
“I thought you only drank wine,” Griffin told him.
“I’m making an exception for the holidays.” He lifted his glass and drained it. “One more, barkeep,” he shouted.
“Fine,” Chuck called back. “But I’m cutting you off after that.”
“I can walk home from here,” Trevor protested.
“Understood, but your mom will kill me if you end up sleeping on the sidewalk. I’m not convinced you won’t pass out on the way home.”
“I’ll make sure he gets there safely,” Griffin said, looking back toward the bar owner.
Trevor gave a loud chuckle. “That’s right. My big brother has my back. Ask anyone.” His bleary gaze settled on Griffin. “Like Maggie.”
“I thought we were past that.” Griffin adjusted his ball cap then took a long drink of beer.
“Me too.” Trevor shrugged. “You left again, and it hurt her.”
“That’s my problem,” Griffin said through clenched teeth.
“It’s not right,” Trevor continued as if Griffin hadn’t spoken. “You get to come and go whenever the mood suits you.”
“It wasn’t like that. Not this time or when I left years ago. You know that.”
“Do I?” Trevor flashed a grateful smile at the waitress who set his drink on the table. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
“I’m off in an hour,” the young blonde told him with a subtle wink. “If you need an escort home, I’m happy to oblige.”
“Much appreciated,” Trevor told her. “But this night is all about brotherly love.”
The woman made a face.
“Not that kind of love,” Griffin clarified. “He’s too drunk to make any sense.”
“I make perfect sense,” Trevor countered. “You just don’t want to hear the truth.” He leaned forward across the table. “You can’t handle the truth,” he said, doing a really pathetic Jack Nicholson impression.
The waitress laughed then turned away.
“What the hell is going on with you?” Griffin demanded. “You never drink like this.”
“I got offered a job today,” Trevor blurted then sucked in a breath. He lifted the glass then set it down again. “I turned it down.”
“What kind of job?”
“Marketing director for Calico Winery.”
Griffin whistled softly. “That’s huge, Trev. Calico is the biggest and the best when it comes to Sonoma vineyards.”
“Don’t remind me,” his brother whispered.
“You didn’t even consider taking the job?”
“How could I when I’m going to have so much fun working for you?” Trevor held out his hands. “You can take off for over a decade, show up for a few months then disappear again and still...” He pointed an angry finger at Griffin. “Still Mom and Marcus want you to take the helm. I’ve been here toiling away, trying to make a name for Harvest and no one even gives a rip.”
“That’s not true.”
“I have plans for the vineyard,” Trevor continued. “Plans to make us the biggest organic-certified producer in the Oregon wine industry. All I get is pushback for any idea I bring forward.”
Griffin dragged a hand along his jaw, unsure of the best way to have this conversation with his brother, especially in Trevor’s current state. They’d never been exactly close, not with their father’s affection and approval so clearly favoring Trevor.
Dave Stone hadn’t done either of his boys any favors with his preferential treatment of his younger son. Instead, he’d subtly pitted one brother against the other. Griffin had loved the vines, but Trevor had been the company’s heir apparent.
Now that things were changing, Griffin understood it was a difficult pill to swallow. He also appreciated Trevor’s dilemma. As angry as Griffin had been when his dad had all but kicked him out of their lives, it ultimately had been something of a blessing. He’d had a few years to make his own way in the world. He’d joined the army and then worked in construction around much of the Pacific Northwest. When he finally made his way back to Stonecreek, despite his varying emotions about this place, he knew in his heart the choice to stay would be his.
Trevor never had that choice.
“Maybe your plans are bigger than what Harvest can hold,” he suggested quietly.
“Because you want to get rid of me?” Trevor’s lip curled into an angry sneer.
“Because I want you to be happy.”
Trevor’s head snapped back like Griffin had punched him. “Why do you think Dad acted the way he did with the two of us?” he asked after a long moment.
Griffin sighed. He’d only recently learned the whole truth around the start of their parents’ marriage. “Mom got pregnant with me to trap him into marrying her.” It pained him to say the words, both because of the shadow it cast over his mother’s character and what it said about how wanted he’d been as a baby. Which was not very much, at least by his dad.
“But he loved her,” Trevor said, shaking his head and looking suddenly far more sober than he had a few minutes earlier. “Why would it matter how things started? And you had nothing to do with any of that.”
“I don’t quite understand it,” Griffin admitted, “and Dad isn’t saying much from beyond the grave.”
“Damn, Grif,” Trevor muttered.
“It wasn’t easy for Mom to share it with me.” He took another drink of beer then laughed. “Although it was better than the explanation I’d come up with on my own, which basically boiled down to questioning whether Dad was my real father.”
Trevor made a face. “You look like Mom, but you’re a chip off the old paternal personality block.”
“Maybe, but I’d had fantasies as a kid of some Clint Eastwood–type guy showing up and claiming me as his own.” He shrugged. “I could imagine every moment up until the point where I had to leave Harvest. Then it got fuzzy.”
“You left anyway.”
“Dad and I would have torn each other apart if I’d stayed.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry you felt like you didn’t have a choice in the path your life took, Trev.”
His brother massaged two fingers against his forehead. “It seemed like one rebel in the family was enough.”
“You do have a choice.” Griffin sat up straighter. “I’m not trying to push you out. If you want to stay at Harvest, we’ll find a way to run the business together. But Calico might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. No one would blame you for wanting to do something for yourself at this point.”
“You want to check with Mom before you start making promises?”
“I don’t need to,” Griffin insisted. “She’s not like Dad. You know that. She wants you to be happy, no matter how that looks or where it takes you.”
Trevor leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest. “I always figured the family business was my only option. Dad made it clear—”
“He’s gone,” Griffin interrupted then shook his head. “The old man did a number on both of us, but I have to believe he meant well in his own narcissistic way. You can’t let everything that came before dictate what comes next for you. You have big ideas and you’re damn good at what you do.”
“I love it,” Trevor said softly. He looked down at the drink in front of him then added, “But I want more. I want to take the job.”
Griffin nodded. “We’ll talk to Mom in the morning, explain what’s going to happen. She’ll understand. We’ll make sure of it.”
“Thank you.” Trevor’s gaze lifted to Griffin’s and there was a mix of anticipation and relief in that familiar gaze that made Griffin’s chest ache. Why hadn’t they talked like this before now? They’d lost so many years... Griffin had wasted so much time on anger and resentment. He hated himself for it, but all he could do now was vow to change.
“You ready to head home?”
Trevor rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to end up passed out on the sidewalk.”
“Let me walk with you anyway. I have some big brothering to catch up on.”
“Fine,” Trevor grumbled but he didn’t seem upset by Griffin’s insistence. “I’m holding you to the offer to be there when I talk to Mom. She’s going to freak out.”
Griffin thought about their mother’s calm reaction when he brought Joey home with him. “I think she’ll handle it okay,” he told Trevor with a smile.
They each climbed out of the booth, waved to Chuck and headed out into the cold December night.
