There wasn’t anything else he could do in the office. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea.
“Sounds like a plan.” He stood and grabbed his overcoat off the hook. “I think I’m going to walk a bit. I’ll call a car if I need one.”
“Of course, sir.”
Once outside, he decided to hop on the subway and head for the park but got off a bit early. The tree at Rockefeller Center still wouldn’t be lit for a few more days, but the Christmas decorations were out in full force throughout most of the city.
Music came from storefronts and the glittering lights as he crossed streets and began to wander through Central Park. He’d spent enough time in it to know he wouldn’t get lost. Brittany had been worried about that when they wandered through one day. He’d explained how each lamp post was marked with a four-digit number. The first two digits corresponded with the closest cross street with the second two indicating how close to the center of the park one was. The higher the number, the closer to the center. Odd numbers were on the west side and even numbers on the east.
He rarely needed to use the lamp posts, but occasionally he did need to reorient himself.
But not this night. He simple meandered through the park until he reached an exit near his apartment.
Once home, he stared out over the lights of the city. Where exactly did Violet want him to go? And why? But he’d long ago learned to trust his great-aunt’s instincts, except when it came to dating. She’d tried to set him up more times than he could count. A couple weren’t too bad, but most were unmitigated disasters.
This couldn’t be any worse than the time he’d taken out the granddaughter of one of Violet’s friends. The girl had spent the whole time talking about what kind of wedding she wanted that included spending a bunch of his money since her family certainly didn’t have any.
And she had expensive tastes.
That was the end of that.
Most of the other dates hadn’t been any better.
Then again none of his dates that weren’t set up by Violet had gone much better.
The Christmas decorations in his apartment were well under way. The tree wouldn’t be put up for a couple of weeks, because he insisted it couldn’t go up more than two weeks before the actual date.
With the lights mostly off, he could easily see out over the city and the hustle and bustle and wonder at what everyone else was thinking and doing.
In a city of millions, he sometimes felt more alone than he ever had when he lived in a smaller town, though he wouldn’t call a suburb of Boston small.
If he knew Elise, she’d already had his bags packed for hours. Since the moment the call from Violet came in. Long before she told him about it.
At least he didn’t have to do that.
Finally, he decided it was time to go about his evening activities.
Late the next morning, he went to the airport, flew first class to Charlotte then was supposed to fly into a smaller Midwestern airport but couldn’t remember which one. Thunderstorms in the area meant they were diverted to St. Louis, and he either had to wait for a flight or rent a car. He went with the latter.
Four hours later, he pulled into the bed and breakfast where he’d be spending the next few weeks. Mrs. Scarlotti welcomed him to the B&B and showed him to his room. At least it was a more modern B&B with a private bath.
Once he unpacked, it was time to go to bed. He’d planned to meet with the local planner in the evening, but had Elise call and let her know that he’d been detained. They were now supposed to meet the next afternoon after this woman got off work.
After a night with too little sleep, Cole made his way down to the town square and wandered through all of the shops before stopping for a late lunch at Daisy’s Diner. He was still people watching when the time came for his meeting with the coordinator.
But the voice he heard behind him caught him more off-guard than anything he could have possibly prepared for.
“Norris? What are you doing here?”
Cole turned, shock surely covering his face. “Brittany? This is your town?”
“I’ve lived here my whole life.” She slid into the booth across from him. “What are you doing here?” She set a manila folder held together with a rubber band on the table, and his stomach sank.
He nodded his head toward the folder. “I have a feeling I’m here to take that over.”
Chapter 5
Brittany’s heart thudded to a stop. “What are you talking about?”
His face took on a carefully guarded look she’d only seen twice in their time together in New York, and then when he was talking to his male assistant. She knew he had a female assistant as well. She did not know why he needed more than one assistant.
This was his business look.
“I’ve been hired by Violet Braverman to run the winter festival and parade.” He leaned back, that carefully neutral look still on his face.
She blinked. “You’ve what?”
“Violet Braverman sent me to run the festival. She said it’s way behind and needs someone to take over running it.”
“She handed me this folder Friday as I walked into baggage claim. I haven’t had time to get it planned. I had papers to grade over the weekend and sleep to catch up on, or I wouldn’t be functional in the classroom yesterday and today. I don’t need some out-of-towner coming in and taking over. I appreciate the offer, but it’s not necessary.”
He gave her a smile that was probably supposed to be kind but just seemed a bit condescending. “She writes the checks, doesn’t she?”
Brittany managed to hide her grimace. “Yes.”
“Then she’s the one I answer to.” His face softened slightly. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
She wouldn’t win this battle.
She didn’t even want to fight this particular battle.
Instead, she pushed the folder across the table to him. “Take it. It’s yours. I’m happy to let you handle it.” Maybe the calls would stop. She wouldn’t be the one to decide who got to pick first for the new booth arrangement.
“Thank you for not fighting me on this.” His face relaxed a little more. “This is what I do, and I’m very good at it.”
“Good. I’m glad. I’ll enjoy watching it a lot more if I’m not running it.” She slid back out of the booth. “If you’ve got this covered, then I have papers to grade and things to do.”
Plus, she wasn’t sure how to handle having Norris in her town. “I hope you enjoy your stay in Trumanville. Thanks for taking that off my hands.”
She started to walk away, but his voice pulled her back. “Wait.”
Brittany turned around and took two steps back to the side of the table and waited.
“Sit? Please.”
The businessman look was gone, so Brittany did as he requested.
He took a deep breath. “You should know my name isn’t Norris.”
That’s all he wanted to say? “I know.”
His brows knit together. “You do? How?”
“You didn’t answer to it the right way. I knew it wasn’t the name you usually go by.”
“It’s my middle name,” he admitted. “I go by Cole.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Cole.” She held out her hand.
As he took it, she tried to ignore the warmth that shot up her arm. Surely, the attraction had only been in the big city. It couldn’t translate to Trumanville. Not where she’d been quite happily single for many years.
Even if he had almost kissed her less than a week ago.
“I’m sorry for not telling you my real name.” He looked down at his neatly folded hands. “I have some notoriety in New York. Well, not notoriety. Fame. And I didn’t want that to affect you if you knew who I really was.”
“Why are you well-known?” She hadn’t seen anyone staring at them overly long while they were together.
“My face graces the society pages regularly. I have...” He hesitated. “Enough money to
live very comfortably for several lifetimes, even if I was completely frivolous with it in this lifetime. People hear my name, and they don’t see me. I didn’t want that with you.”
“I can understand that.” She’d like to think she wasn’t quite that shallow, but maybe she was. “But you made that kind of money from planning parades in small towns?”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “No. My father and grandfather were quite wealthy. I inherited most of what I have from my grandfather. I’ll have more when my father passes someday, and I’ll inherit the family business, whether I want it or not. I don’t have to work. Instead, I started my own company planning these festivals in New York, and it branched out from there. I’ve had to work since I turned eighteen. My father paid for my college, but he insisted I have a job and work a minimum number of hours a week. At least until 9/11. I was on my way to work in the basement of the Towers that day. Then Dad let me take some time off. I started my own business the next summer.”
That explained why he had an unexpected business meeting the morning she went to the Memorial and Museum. She knew there were people who survived that day - either close up or more distant - who were still unable to visit the site.
“I understand.” She stood again. “Thanks for taking that over. I appreciate it.”
This time when she walked away, he didn’t stop her. She made it all the way home without allowing herself to think too deeply about why it bothered her that Nor... Cole was taking over.
She didn’t want to deal with Winterfest. Finals were coming up. She had papers being turned in on Monday that would take hours upon hours to grade. She had to make sure her students were ready for the tests, especially those in her dual enrollment classes. They had to do well or wouldn’t get college credit.
Time was always a precious commodity, but this time of year, she never had extra to go around.
With that in mind, she made dinner for herself and Mattison. Spaghetti. Easy to do and clean up. She worked on grading papers while it cooked then talked with Mattison about her day while they ate.
“What’s going on with you?” Mattison asked as they cleaned up the kitchen.
“Nothing. Why?” She hadn’t told Mattison about Cole. Not really. Just that she’d made a friend who held up her iPad mini and did the live stream for her family and friends to watch on Facebook.
“The last couple of days you’ve been stressing about Winterfest, but you haven’t mentioned it once.” She put the rinsed off plate into the dishwasher.
“Oh.” Brittany shrugged. “Mrs. Braverman hired some outside firm to come in and run it. I handed over everything a little while ago. I don’t have to do it anymore.”
“That’s great!” But there was something off in Mattison’s voice.
“What?”
“You really think Mr. Lotson or Mrs. Stephens or Mrs. Beach or any of the others are going to cooperate with an...” Her voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. “...outsider?”
Brittany put her cup in the dishwasher and flipped the door up with her foot. “I don’t know, but it’s not my problem anymore.”
The doorbell rang. Mattison rolled her eyes. “I bet that’s Grandma. She probably doesn’t know you’re not in charge anymore.”
But when Brittany opened the door, it wasn’t Mattison’s grandmother standing there.
It was a desperate-looking Cole.
If the look on his face conveyed half of how he felt, Cole knew his desperation wasn’t a secret from Brittany.
“Help.” It was the only thing he’d been thinking on his way over, after he’d found her address on a slip of paper in the folder she’d left with him.
Brittany opened the door a bit wider. “Come on in. What do you need help with?”
“The people in this town are kind of crazy.” He stepped into the warmth of her living room.
“I could have told you that.” She closed the door behind him.
“In the two hours since you left, half the vendors have pulled out of the event.” He set the folder on the coffee table. “Please help me.”
“Half of them have pulled out? In two hours?” She motioned to the sofa.
“Apparently, I made all of them mad.” He sat down. “I get the impression the ones that haven’t pulled out yet are hoping for the good spots because those with priority are gone.”
“Who’s gone?”
He pulled the list up on his phone. “The bookstore. The antique store. The bakery. The diner. The quilt shop. The children’s store.”
“The children’s store?” She sounded incredulous. “Lisa pulled her store out?”
“Is that her name? Yes. She said she wasn’t coming. I think it might have had something to do with me turning her down for a date because I’m here on business.” The entire exchange had made him uncomfortable. He’d almost been glad when she’d asked for her deposit back.
That made Brittany laugh. “That sounds like Lisa. She sees a good-looking man, who clearly has at least some money, come to town, and when he doesn’t immediately fall at her feet, she takes off.”
“Sounds about right then.”
That was when Cole noticed the girl leaning against the door frame to the kitchen.
She walked into the living room. “You’re the guy Mrs. Braverman hired?”
Cole nodded. “I am.”
“Why did she hire you? To ruin Winterfest? Because if that’s the goal, you’re doing a great job.” Brittany had confided in him that her daughter had a snarky streak, even if she hadn’t told him the girl’s name.
“Mrs. Braverman hired me to come in and handle it because she thought it would be too much for your mom this time of year. She has a lot going on without trying to run Winterfest. I can do this and do it well if people cooperate.” He looked at Brittany. “Can you tell me who I need to talk to, who I need to get on my side, in order for them to work with me?”
“Probably Mrs. Braverman. She’s the only one people listen to when it comes to the Winterfest. Or the Fourth of July festival or any of the others. I presume you know how to get a hold of her, because she didn’t take my calls.”
Not exactly the answer he’d been hoping for. He’d been hoping Brittany would say she’d help him. Her notes from the last few days were meticulous and excellent.
“They’d listen to you, Mom.” Her daughter came to his rescue. “If you helped this guy, they’d come back. You had some good ideas. I know you did.”
“She’s right, Brittany. I saw some of what you had written down and the ideas were excellent. A couple of them are better than anything I ever came up with.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “Please?”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “This goes against my better judgment. I really don’t have time for this, but I also can’t let Winterfest be a hot mess either. I’ll help when I can, but you’re the one running this thing. Not me. If it flops, it’s on you and Mrs. Braverman.”
“Fine. We’ll take the blame if it fails.” If it went well, he’d let Brittany take the credit. He had the feeling she needed it. None of the people he’d talked to thought she could handle Winterfest. It wasn’t just that she was busy. They didn’t believe in her.
He didn’t understand why. Given the little he’d seen of her work in her notes and when she was on the phone with her substitute teacher while in New York, she was perfectly competent.
“Can we start now?” he asked. “Help me get a handle on what usually happens so we can decide how to proceed?”
“Sure.” It didn’t sound like she wanted to, but he was grateful she’d agreed anyway.
“I’m going to binge the new season of Management on Mars.” Her daughter, who he hadn’t been introduced to, flounced down the hall, to her bedroom presumably.
Brittany sighed as she stood. “Sorry about her and that I didn’t introduce you.” She sat on the couch next to him, but not close enough they were touching. “Where do you want to start?”
&nbs
p; “Why don’t you tell me about Winterfest? Not just which booth is where, but the feel of it. What you love. What you don’t. Things like that.”
He leaned back into the corner of the couch and closed his eyes, trying to envision the different things she described.
Brittany was an excellent story teller. She painted the picture of what the square looked like, down to the smells and feel of the chill in the air. The excitement that hummed through them all when the parade began. The child-like glee at even the tiniest bit of snow covering the ground.
The hot chocolate. The garland. The apple cider.
The horses clomping over the cobbled streets that still existed in parts of the square.
Children scrambling to pick up the candy thrown by the parade participants.
There were no barricades keeping people back at this parade.
Santa bringing up the rear then spending the rest of the day seeing children, first in front of the court house then later inside the old community center as families rotated through the line. About the time those who stayed after the parade began to clear out, the families who’d gone home for an early lunch lined up, ensuring a never-ending queue.
There were that many people waiting to see Santa in a town not much bigger than a postage stamp?
When she said he was the best Santa this side of Springfield who only appeared a couple of times a year, it made more sense.
“It seems Mrs. Braverman has done an excellent job over the years,” he said when Brittany finally finished telling him about it. “How can we make it even better?”
Chapter 6
The last three days had been exhausting for Brittany. Cole came over in the evening as soon as dinner was done then stayed until at least ten as they tried to make the plans for the Winterfest even better. By the time she finished any grading she hadn’t gotten done before dinner and collapsed into bed, she was lucky to get five or six hours of sleep before waking early to teach English to children in China for an hour or two before heading to Trumanville High School.
Love on Parade Page 4
