Читать книгу 'Twas the Week Before Christmas - Olivia Miles - Страница 10

Chapter Three

The 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?”

The kid tilted his chin toward the window. “Just across the street.”

“Thanks.” Max reached for his bag and tucked his wallet back into his pocket.

“Tell Lucy that Bobby Miller sent you,” the kid said, managing a tight smile. “She’ll take care of you.”

Max squinted as sudden realization took hold. Miller. As in George Miller? After a slight hesitation, he nodded his thanks and jogged across the street to the diner as a blast of wind slapped his face, wishing he’d had the sense to have already put on that parka.

* * *

Holly’s heart flipped at the sight of Max walking into the diner and she paused mid-sentence in surprise. His broad shoulders filled that ridiculous overcoat perfectly, leaving her wishing she could see the fine details of what lay beneath. He stood in the doorway, all at once looking devilishly handsome and slightly bewildered.

Watching her reaction, Lucy Miller whispered over the Formica counter, “Who’s that?”

Holly slid her eyes back to her friend. “He’s a guest at the inn.”

Lucy lifted her head and murmured, “Looks like you’ve made quite an impression on him.”

Holly followed Lucy’s gaze back to the front of the room, where Max caught her stare and lit up with an almost relieved smile. He held his hand up and began winding his way through the crowded tables to where Holly was perched at the counter, his athletic frame allowing him to do so with ease.

“Hey,” he said, flopping companionably onto the stool beside her.

“Hi,” Holly said cautiously, feeling a shiver of excitement at his proximity. “This is a surprise.”

“Thought I’d get a quick cup of coffee and check out the town before I went back to the inn.”

Lucy took her cue and pulled a ceramic mug off a shelf. She slid it toward Max and gave Holly a fleeting look. Holly pursed her lips and shifted her focus back to Max. “When is your, um, business meeting?”

“Already happened,” Max said simply and Holly’s heart turned heavy. The meeting was over. His purpose in Maple Woods was finished. He’d be leaving just as quickly as he’d arrived.

He was only booked for two nights but somehow Holly had hoped something would keep him longer. It was a silly thought, she realized now. He had a life to get back to in New York. A life that didn’t include her.

She forced a bright smile. “Did it go well?”

Max pulled a noncommittal face. He shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Holly narrowed her eyes and looked down to her own coffee cup, not sure what to say next. Max liked his privacy, and she wasn’t one to pry. If he wanted to share his reasons for being here, he would. But his evasiveness was unnerving and unfamiliar. Maple Woods wasn’t a town based on secrets. If you had one, it was bound to come out sooner than later.

Max was a fresh reminder of what her life had been like back in Boston, and she suddenly realized how much she had changed since she’d moved away. And how little she missed her old life. After her parents died, the city had felt vast and empty. Cold. It wasn’t until she moved permanently to Maple Woods that she remembered what it felt like to be surrounded by friends and people who genuinely cared enough to let you in, not keep you at arm’s reach.

“I thought you’d be busy at the inn all day,” Max observed.

“Believe it or not, I do get out,” Holly said with a grin. “Abby helps hold down the fort.”

“And Abby is?”

“Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t have met her yet. She helps run things. Sort of a manager or housekeeper, if you will. But she’s also a friend.”

Max nodded, his blue gaze locked intensely with hers as if hanging onto her every word. It had been a long time since a man had paid this much attention to her, and Holly felt her nerves flutter under his gaze. Every time their eyes met, her stomach did involuntary somersaults.

The last man who had looked at her with this much interest was Brendan, her last boyfriend in Boston. And look how that had ended, she thought bitterly. But something told her Max was different.

Not that it matters, she thought sadly.

“Here are your pies, hon.” Lucy placed a stack of white pie boxes in front of Holly.

Holly lifted the lid of the box on top and stole a peek at the contents. “Oh,” she cried. “Apple-cranberry. My favorite.”

“That’s for the guests,” Lucy remarked with a playful smile. She glanced at Max. “You like pie?”

Max shrugged. “I liked the pie I had last night.”

“That was Lucy’s creation,” Holly explained. “She bakes all the pies for the inn. I drop by every morning to pick them up.”

“This one keeps me in business,” Lucy said.

“I find that hard to believe,” Max said, an edge creeping into his once-pleasant tone. He looked around the crowded room. “This place seems to be doing pretty well on its own.”

“Eh. At times. But you’d be amazed how many regulars come in, spend a buck-fifty on a cup of coffee and sip refills for two hours. Like Mr. Hawkins over there.” She gave a pointed stare to the end of the counter where an older man sat sipping at his mug, the newspaper splayed in front of him. The poor man had been a fixture at the diner ever since his wife had died more than ten years ago. Holly couldn’t remember a day she hadn’t come in to collect her pies and had not seen him sitting in that very seat. He clearly couldn’t bear the thought of being alone.

Makes two of us.

Max raised his eyebrows as he considered Lucy’s logic. “Never thought about that. And on that note, I’ll take a slice of pie.”

A warm glow flowed through Holly at his kind effort. Why couldn’t she have met a guy like Max in Maple Woods?

But then, that was the drawback to living in a small town. She couldn’t find the right one in Boston. And now she couldn’t find the right one here, either. Max seemed like everything she was looking for and more. But of course, he came with a hitch. He was just passing through her life. He wasn’t a permanent part of it.

“What’s your poison, stranger?” Lucy asked. She pointed to the blackboard on the wall. “We’ve got pumpkin, apple and pear.”

“If apple-cranberry is Holly’s favorite flavor, then I think I’ll take her up on the recommendation.”

Holly bit her lip to hide her smile and locked eyes with Lucy, who had approval stamped all over her face.

“Good answer,” Lucy observed. She pulled a fresh pie off a baking rack and cut into it.

“Looks like we’ll need a fresh one for the evening crowd,” Emily Porter said, coming around the counter. Holly smiled at her friend, who was another familiar face at Lucy’s Place.

“I’ll get started on that after things quiet down.” Emily paused, noticing Max for the first time, and then slid her eyes to Holly, barely suppressing her interest, before she disappeared into the kitchen.

“I worked in a restaurant in college,” Max volunteered.

Holly perked up with interest. “So did I! I waited tables.”

“You never told me about this,” Lucy said, a sly smile creeping at her lips. “How long were you a waitress for?”

“Five hours,” Holly admitted. It was such a short but horrifying memory that she often forgot she had ever endured it.

“Five hours?” Max guffawed, his bright blue eyes gleaming with amusement. He stared at her, enraptured, and Holly felt the room tilt.

He was just...perfect.

Holly shook her head and closed her eyes, just thinking of her stint as a waitress. “It was awful. I was in college and I needed a part-time job, so I applied to work at this little café. I showed up to work on the first morning and they spent ten minutes showing me how to work the espresso machine—nothing I tried helped me to succeed in foaming that milk.”

Lucy nodded. “It’s tricky.”

“So they—wait, they fired you for not being able to foam milk?” Max’s lips twitched in amusement.

“No, it went beyond the milk,” Holly said. “They were short-staffed that day and my boss wanted to go golfing. He spent another ten minutes teaching me how to use the cash register—”

“Let me guess?” Max’s eyes danced.

Holly gave him a playful swat, wondering for a split second if she had gone too far, but he swatted her right back. Her heart did a little jig. “So I couldn’t foam the milk and I could barely use the cash register. I was the only person working aside from the cook and I had to seat people, take their orders, foam the milk, bring the food, take care of the bill, and bus the tables. It was awful. Well, I was awful. So awful, that one customer left me two nickels for a tip.”

Max’s hand was covering his ear-to-ear grin and his eyes were now wide as saucers. A heavy silence was interrupted by a sputtering of laughter and then Max tossed his head back, roaring. Lucy simply shook her head in dismay.

“Two nickels?” Max repeated, when his laughter had died down.

Holly nodded solemnly at the memory. She had never been so mortified. Never felt so ashamed. But looking back, she had to agree it was rather funny.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. But—two nickels?” Max erupted into another wave of laughter and finally composed himself, wiping at his eyes. “And here I was, just beginning to think you were perfect. Now I know you have a fatal flaw. You are a terrible waitress.”

Holly’s cheeks flushed deep and hot but her pulse kicked up a notch. He thought she was perfect. And here she thought it was the other way around.

“I bet you were a good waiter,” Lucy said to Max.

Max shrugged and gave a humble grin. “I was better than Holly.”

“Hey!” But she wasn’t mad. How could she be? He was teasing her, and there was only one reason why boys teased.

“I’m just being honest.” His eyes gleamed in merriment. “I mean, you were able to buy some penny candy with your tips and I was able to, well...pay rent.”

Holly laughed but silently considered his words. Max seemed like the type of guy who came from money. Not one who had to earn it. But then, there was a lot about Max she didn’t know.

Yet.

“Restaurant work is hard work. There’s a lot most folks don’t think about until they’re in the business,” Lucy commented. She handed Max his slice of pie and placed a fork on a fresh napkin. “It’s grueling at times. For everyone. Not that I’m complaining. I love this place—don’t get me wrong—but it’s hard work. And having a little extra cash, especially around the holidays, helps.”

Max’s mouth thinned. “I’m Max, by the way.”

“Lucy. Lucy Miller.”

Holly felt Max stiffen in his chair. She scrutinized him sidelong, questioning the reaction.

“I think I might have just met your son—Bobby, is it? Over at the sporting goods shop?”

Lucy chuckled. “So, you’ve had the pleasure, then? Yes, he’s my son.”

“Excuse me for asking, but why doesn’t he work at the diner instead of the store across the street?”

“He’s too cool for it.” Lucy pursed her lips. “He used to help out here, but then his buddy got him that job at the sports place. It’s a chance for them to hang out and earn some money at the same time. I can’t complain since it keeps him out of trouble, but it would be nice to have the family help at the diner. Instead we’re paying another classmate of his to help out on weekends.”

Holly shook her head and heaved a sigh. Lucy often confided in her about her aggravation with her son’s behavior. Bobby wasn’t a bad kid. He was just a kid with dreams that extended beyond Maple Woods. “Kids these days.”

Lucy tightened the apron strings at her waist. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll grow up one day and take over this place. Hope springs.”

Lucy left them to tend to another customer and Holly turned to Max. She patted the pie boxes gingerly, so as to not crush the delicate contents. “I should probably get going.”

A wave of possible disappointment shadowed Max’s chiseled face and Holly instantly regretted her words. It wouldn’t kill her to stick around for a little longer. But then, why bother getting cozier with Max when he was just going to vanish from her life tomorrow?

“You’re really going to leave me sitting here all by myself? Why not stay and have another cup of coffee with me? ”

She hesitated. “I should probably get back and see if Abby needs any help...”

“Fine, fine, go. But on one condition,” Max insisted.

Holly’s pulse skipped a beat. She carefully wrapped her scarf around her neck and gathered her stack of pie boxes. “What’s that?”

“Give me a rain check?” He regarded her hopefully.

Like she’d even consider saying no.