Blue Ridge Christmas Read online

  “I’m my own boss, so I wouldn’t know.” She looked at him for a long moment. "Well, I'm sure you're tired from your trip, so let me show you to your room."

  "Sounds good."

  He followed her up the stairs, carrying his bag over his shoulder. He never packed much when he went out of town because he always hoped to get right back to the city as soon as possible.

  Even the upstairs was decorated in a Christmas theme. Every corner seemed to have a tree or a snowman or some kind of decoration that let you know you had landed smack dab in the middle of the North Pole.

  She turned to the left and used her key to open room number three. As soon as the door opened, Greg had the urge to run out. Apparently even the rooms were decorated for Christmas. Who did this kind of thing?

  "You're lucky. This is the last room we have available this week."

  Greg walked in, still unable to speak. Hanging from the ceiling was a disco ball. Everything else was Christmas decorations, but they were all done in pinks and greens and blues. There were also lots of iridescent colors and the tree was white with sparkly silver tinsel he remembered seeing on his grandmother’s tree when he was a kid. He turned and looked at her.

  "Seriously? What is this? A room that is both Christmas and disco themed?" He couldn't imagine that he was seeing something like that. Surely it had to be at joke.

  She smiled, obviously proud of her work. "Isn't it amazing? I just love the seventies. I mean, I wasn't born until the eighties, but it just seems like it would've been such a cool time to live in. Bellbottoms and awesome music and skating rinks…"

  Greg put up his hand. "Stop. Please. You cannot be serious. You want me to stay in here? For an entire week?"

  She stepped back and crossed her arms. "Excuse me? You mean you don't like this room?"

  "Honestly, miss, I don't like this entire place. Christmas isn't my thing.”

  She stared at him. “Who doesn’t like Christmas?”

  “Me.”

  “Then why write a story?”

  He cleared his throat. “Because I don’t want to lose my job. Now, surely you have another room I can stay in?”

  "There's not another room. We are completely booked all the way through the new year."

  "Then is there another place in town?"

  "No. I mean, you can go an hour down the road and see if the local motel has any vacancies. But the only reason this room is even available is because the family that was coming to stay here had a sick child."

  He stood there, seriously contemplating whether he wanted to call his boss and tell him he couldn't do the job. Roger, his most irritating co-worker, would love nothing more than to find out that Greg couldn't do what he was asked to do. He had been vying for a promotion, and Greg didn't want Bruce to think that maybe he should give that promotion to Roger instead.

  "Fine. It's only a week. I guess I can manage."

  She nodded her head, her face completely impassable. "Good. Well, welcome to Hickory House. Dinner is at six."

  Without saying another word, she walked over to the door, gave him another sharp look and closed it behind her.

  "I'm telling you, he was the biggest jerk I've ever met. Like, who doesn't like the seventies and Christmas? That's an awesome room." She sat across the table from Aimee and continued venting. "He said he doesn't like Christmas. Who doesn't like Christmas?"

  Aimee laughed and took a sip of her coffee. "Sweetie, not everybody loves Christmas like you do. And you have to admit, that room is a little bit overwhelming. Maybe you could just take the disco ball down until he leaves?"

  "Absolutely not! He's in my house. My rules." She waved her hand in the air dismissively.

  "You know, this might be why you're single."

  "And what is that supposed to mean?"

  "Sometimes you can be a little bit rigid."

  Holly rolled her eyes. "Look, part of me is my love for Christmas. Any guy who can't handle that doesn't deserve to be with me."

  "And your humility astounds me sometimes," Aimee said with a laugh.

  "All I know is that I was having a wonderful day until this jerk showed up. And if I didn't need the money so bad, I would've told him there was no room at this inn.” She giggled at her own joke.

  "Well, you do need the money, so you have to be nice. Plus if this guy is a magazine reporter, he could really help the town. I think it would be good for you to give him as much information as you can."

  Holly sat there for a moment, obviously thinking about what her friend had said. She took a bite of a Christmas cookie, her locally famous recipe, and nodded. "You're probably right. This town needs all the help it can get, especially if they want to keep those investors away. If everybody around here is doing well, maybe nobody will be tempted to sell their land. And investors can't build a resort without land."

  "Right. So, let's focus on making this guy absolutely love Orchard Falls. Okay?”

  “Fine.”

  Chapter 3

  Holly stared at her computer, her eyes starting to glaze over. Tax season was coming soon, and she had to finish her bookkeeping. Doing it all herself had become a task, but she couldn’t afford an accountant, so every year she spent weeks trying to make sure all of her numbers were correct for the inn and the toy store. As a person who hated numbers, she was pretty exhausted when the process was done.

  Deep in thought as she stared at yet another spreadsheet, she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned to see her new guest, Greg, standing there.

  “Sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering where dinner was?”

  She looked at her computer to check the time before looking back at him. “It’s eight o’clock. Dinner was two hours ago.”

  “I got stuck on a conference call.”

  She smiled. “Well, I’m sorry about that, but dinner is over.”

  He walked over to the table and sat across from her. “Why does Miss Christmas look so stressed?”

  “My name is Holly. And, if you must know, I’m working on my taxes.”

  “Already? It’s only December. You have until April.”

  “I don’t like to procrastinate. I have two businesses.”

  He nodded his head like he was impressed. “Two businesses? Wow. That’s great. What’s your other business?”

  “I own The Blue Ridge Toy Factory down on the square.”

  “Of course you do,” he said, laughing. “Was Santa Claus your father or something?”

  She smirked. “Santa didn’t have any kids. Everybody knows that.”

  “So, back to your taxes. What’s got your face all scrunched up like that?”

  “I don’t have an accountant, so I have to do it all myself. I’m stuck on this one part, and numbers just aren’t my forte.”

  “Mind if I take a look?”

  “Why would a reporter know any more than I would?”

  He looked at her for a moment. “I used to work more in the business world. I might be able to help.”

  “Fine. I’ve got nothing to lose at this point.” She turned the laptop slightly, and he walked around to sit in the chair next to her. She had to admit, he wasn’t bad on the eyes. With thick, dark hair and brown eyes, he reminded her of a movie star. Now that he was sitting closer, he smelled good too. She turned her head slightly to try to avoid the scent of his cologne.

  “So, where are you stuck?”

  “This column here. I don’t know where to put this total…”

  He looked at her spreadsheet, clicking around and adding numbers on his phone. He then clicked back to her tax software and showed her where to put some of the numbers, explaining some deductions he thought she could take.

  “Wow, you know your stuff,” she said, looking at him. Their faces were awfully close, and for a moment she forgot he hated Christmas and made fun of her disco room.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, their faces way too close for com
fort. Finally, he cleared his throat and sat back enough to break the tension.

  “So, um, are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “I could heat up some leftovers. We had roasted chicken and mashed potatoes.”

  “That sounds great. Thanks.”

  She stood up and walked to the kitchen. She pulled out a plate and the leftovers, before putting everything into the microwave to heat up.

  “Sweet tea?”

  He made a gagging noise. “Do you have unsweetened tea?”

  She turned and stared at him like he was an alien from some other planet. “I thought you were from Atlanta?”

  Again, he looked at her like he was trying to think of his answer. “No, I work in Atlanta. I’m actually from New York originally.”

  “Oh, I guess that explains it. We don’t really serve a lot of unsweetened tea around here. Water?”

  “Sure, that’s fine.”

  The microwave whirred behind her. “So, what’s the name of your magazine?”

  “Oh, um… It’s the Atlanta Life Gazette.”

  “The Atlanta Life Gazette? That’s kind of a weird name. I’ve never heard of it.”

  “We’re a small magazine. A new startup, actually.”

  Something just didn’t smell right to her, but she wasn’t about to say anything to upset him. She just wanted a good story done on her town, and he was paying for a week at the inn.

  Her phone rang on the counter. “Hello? Oh, hey, Claudia. Yes, right. I know. The holiday bazaar is going to be the biggest we’ve ever had. The tree lighting? Yeah, the same night. I know, it’s a lot of work! Okay, well, we’ll chat tomorrow at the meeting. Good night.”

  “Holiday bazaar?”

  “Yes, we have it every year in Orchard Falls. All of the vendors and shop owners come out and set up tables. We have carolers, a cake walk, games, a big movie screen… It’s a lot of fun, but a lot of work.”

  “Sounds like it. And you run that too?”

  “Yes,” she said, taking his plate from the microwave and setting it in front of him. “It’s a lot of work, and now my helper can’t help me.”

  “Oh yeah? Why is that?”

  “Normally, Jane Bradshaw coordinates most of it, and I just help out. This year, she has a broken hip and has gone to stay with her daughter in Virginia. So, it’s all on me. My best friend, Aimee, is trying to help, and the pastor’s wife, Claudia, is too. But, it’s just a lot of leg work for someone running an inn and a toy store.”

  “Why not hand it off to someone then?”

  Holly smiled. “Miss Christmas doesn’t do things like that.”

  He took a bite of mashed potatoes and nodded. “These aren’t half bad.”

  “I’ll take that as a glowing recommendation,” she said, rolling her eyes. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to stay awake. Doing taxes and running her businesses was wearing her out lately. Not to mention being a single mother.

  “Mommy?” she heard Gracie say from the bottom of the stairs. She stood there, wearing her red flannel plaid pajamas, rubbing her eyes.

  “Did you have another nightmare, sweetie?” she asked, as she waved her daughter over and put her arm around her waist.

  “No, I’m just thirsty.”

  Holly smiled at Greg and stood up. “It never ends,” she whispered before getting up to fill a glass with water. “Just a few sips, young lady. Otherwise, you’ll be up all night.”

  When Gracie finished drinking, Holly sent her back upstairs to get in bed and then sat back down.

  “So, you have a daughter?”

  “Yep. That would be Gracie, my crazy little girl.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Eight going on twenty most days.”

  “Is her father…”

  “In the picture? No. He passed away five years ago in a motorcycle accident.”

  Greg put down his fork. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind talking about Alan. He was a good man. We were married for almost four years. He wanted that blasted motorcycle, and it worried me every time he left home. But, he was the type of guy who thought he was invincible.”

  Greg chuckled. “A lot of us are like that, unfortunately.”

  “Yeah, that’s been my experience. But, Southern guys seem particularly that way,” she said, a sad smile on her face. “I never thought I’d be raising a child on my own, but here I am.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, it looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself. Two businesses, a well adjusted daughter. You look freshly showered. You’re wearing shoes that match. Everything seems in order.”

  Holly laughed. “So, you do have a sense of humor? Just not about Christmas?”

  “Let’s not go there. We’re having such a nice chat, Miss Christmas.”

  “Holly.”

  “Sure. Whatever,” he said before digging back into his mashed potatoes.

  Greg sat at the table, happy to have found a local coffee shop where he could work and get some semblance of a wi-fi connection, although it was definitely spotty. He stared at the screen, trying to figure out which email to answer first. The one from his boss, Bruce, already wanting an update? Or the one from the angry client who wanted to pull out of a deal?

  For some reason, all he could think about was the fiery innkeeper he’d met the day before. Holly was something else. He’d never met such a small town woman before, and yet she was running two businesses and raising a daughter. Strong didn’t begin to cover how he’d describe her.

  With auburn hair and a petite frame, she looked like he could pick her up and put her in his pocket. Her personality was another thing. She didn’t take any guff, yet she seemed like the nicest person he’d ever met. Never had he thought he’d make friends, if that’s what they were doing, with a woman who loved Christmas so much.

  He looked out the large window onto the street. There were few cars passing by, but there were plenty of people. They were walking and talking and laughing. No one was on their phone, which was probably due to not having service near the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was tranquil in an unsettling sort of way. He was used the the hustle and bustle of the big city, and they didn’t get much bigger that NYC.

  Still, it was freeing to watch them, going about their lives as if business deals and angry emails didn’t even exist. They were… living. As silly as it sounded in his own mind, he’d forgotten how to live in recent years. His social life was dead, unless spending nights with his gassy basset hound watching true crime documentaries counted as a social life.

  The last time he’d gone on a date, it had consisted of him and a female co-worker staring at their phones in the middle of an overpriced restaurant. They hadn’t gone out again.

  True love wasn’t something Greg had ever really aspired to anyway. His parents had been a poor example of marriage, and none of his friends seemed to be doing much better. Love was something he saw in movies, but didn’t believe in any more than he did the flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz.

  Instead, he’d spent his adult years focused on furthering his career. At least he could count on that. He could control it. No one could work harder than he did, and if they tried, he would just speed up. Work more. Put in more hours. Network with more people. Whatever it took.

  But, if he was honest with himself, there were times he felt like something was missing. There was a void somewhere deep inside that he’d never been able to fill. Not with more money or nicer cars or the expensive condo he’d recently bought overlooking Central Park. All of it was nice, but none of it made him feel warm inside. Maybe that was a myth, that warm and fuzzy feeling.

  “Well, well, well, fancy meeting you here,” Holly said as she walked up to his table. He hadn’t even seen her coming.

  “Hey there. What brings you here?”

  She laughed. “The immense need for coffee.”

  “I understand that completely. Care to s
it?” He pointed to the chair across from him.

  “Sure, for a minute. I’ve got to get back to the store.”

  “Is it getting busy?”

  She blew out a deep breath. “Yes! People are crazy this time of year. But, business is booming. I have to make as much as I can during December to float me for the rest of the year.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Yes, it is. But such is life.”

  “Well, if I can help…” he started to say, immediately regretting his words. He wasn’t there to help. He was there to scope out the town and figure out how they could build a resort there. This wasn’t a vacation.

  She smiled broadly. “You’re going to be sorry you said that.”

  “I am?”

  “Well, you seem to be awfully good at organizational things, and I need help.”

  “With?”

  “Everything.”

  “Um…”

  “Listen, I’ve been thinking about it, and if you really want to do a story on Orchard Falls, you need to be in the thick of it. So, why don’t you help me get the Christmas bazaar and tree lighting together?”

  He froze. “Because I hate Christmas?”

  Holly put her finger in front of her mouth. “Shh… Don’t say that around here. That’s sacrilege!”

  He smiled. “I don’t think I’d be the best person for this job.”

  “I think you’re perfect. You can help me get organized, and I can help you learn to love the most wonderful time of the year.”

  He could tell he wasn’t getting out of this. She was a spitfire and as stubborn a person as he’d ever met. “Fine. I’ll help. But I’m not singing Christmas carols or dressing up like Santa Claus. Those are my rules.”

  She giggled. “We’ll see.”

  She reached out and shook his hand.

  “I guess we have a deal then,” he said, knowing full well he was in trouble.

  Aimee closed the cash register as Holly locked the door. Another day behind them. Sales had been amazing so far, and Holly hoped that held up because she needed all the money she could get as a single mother. Times were always tough, and sometimes it was hard to make ends meet, but she always seemed to find a way to do it.