by Krista Lakes
“You want to try and get a franchise deal for a Christmas store in the middle of the Christmas season? That’s your pitch?” Nicholas’ assistant, Luke, asked, shaking his head. “No offense, sir, but wouldn’t it make more sense to wait until after Christmas? Wouldn’t any potential investor want to see your final numbers for the year?”
“Maybe so, if I was trying to sell the rights to a proof of concept,” Nicholas replied. He set his salad down on his desk, as he leaned over towards Luke. “But I’m not selling a proof of concept. I’m selling a twelve-year-old family owned and operated Christmas shop in small town America. The kind of small town that had a months-long protest when Wal-Mart tried to open a grocery store. These people care about who’s in their neighborhood and they like to know who they’re buying from. They like real people. Not big, faceless companies. It’s a nearly impossible market for a chain to break into.”
Luke frowned, taking a bite of his own salad. “I suppose...”
“But I have the in they want. All I have to do is open the door. Invite a chain to come check out the store. Sweeten the deal by offering full control, as long as my family gets to keep the name on the storefront,” Nicholas explained. “Any company looking to infiltrate the small-town market would be a fool not to give that a shot, with or without the store’s final numbers for the year. It's a business opportunity I wouldn't give up if I were them.”
Luke chewed on his salad thoughtfully for a moment.
“You sure you don’t want to move down there and run the store yourself? Managing a Christmas shop seems right up your alley,” Luke said, struggling to get through the sentence with a straight face, his laugh breaking through near the end.
Nicholas soon joined Luke in his laughter before he reached for his salad again. “That’s the real reason I hired you, you know. You’re hilarious. The business degree from Yale was hardly a factor.”
“I know, sir, I know.”
Despite their age difference, Nicholas liked Luke. Luke was fresh from college but full of enthusiasm and good ideas. Hiring him last year had been one of the best decisions Nicholas could have made for his company.
“But it’s a good thing you have that degree...” Nicholas finished up his final bite of salad. “...because you’re about to be the key contact person for Kerstman Enterprises.”
“The key what?” Luke’s eyes went wide, and his voice cracked. “I’m sorry? I think I misheard you, sir?”
“Nope. You heard me right the first time. You're in charge.” Nicholas stood away from his desk, moving towards Luke’s right side. “Don’t freak out about it. Business typically slows down this time of year. We shouldn’t have any new contracts coming across my desk until late January. I’ll just need someone at the office while I head home for a few days.”
“You’re going on vacation?” Luke sounded more incredulous than if Nicholas had announced he thought he could fly.
Nicholas laughed again, folding his arms against his chest. “No, I’m not going on vacation. I’ll need to check on the store before inviting anyone to come and see it. If you’re a real estate agent, you don’t host an Open House until you finish repainting the kitchen. And if you’re trying to sell a business, you don’t invite big name corporations to your shop until you have a clear idea of what it is that you’re even selling.”
“Got it,” Luke said, seemingly still in shock. “Thank you so much for the opportunity, sir. I promise I won’t let you down.”
“You have my full vote of confidence.” Nicholas grinned over at Luke. “And, even if you screw up, I don’t think you’d screw up that much. There’s nothing you could possibly break that I wouldn’t be able to fix.”
“Thank you for the pep talk, sir,” Luke said, rolling his eyes. He smiled up at his boss. “I’ll secure your travel plans by tonight. You should be able to fly out of here in the morning. I'll get you a car at the airport. You're usual?”
“That sounds perfect.”
Chapter 5
Molly
“This tastes amazing!” Molly moaned, stuffing the rest of the cupcake into her mouth. “Hannah, I think this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life.”
“Really? You’re not just saying that?” Hannah wrung her hands as she watched Molly finish chewing. “Tell me the truth. Is it good? Or is it BakeTown good?”
“This is You-Should-Be-Rachel-Ray’s-New-Best-Friend good,” Molly told her, licking her fingers for any missed crumbs. “Do you have anything else you need me to sample?”
“Actually, if you’re still hungry, I was working on a new cherry pie recipe—”
“Yes. Pie. Yes. Good.” Molly nodded along with Hannah’s words. “So you know, you are definitely the reason I gain five pounds every Christmas. This is my dinner and I don't even care what the calorie count is.”
“Whatever! Chasing the kids around when you’re back to school in January will get you right back to normal,” Hannah said as she pulled a pie out of the oven behind her. “How’s the kids’ choir looking for the Christmas service, Ms. Choir Director?”
A year ago, Molly was chosen as school’s elementary choir director, even though she couldn’t carry a tune, not even if she had a bucket ready in her hands. She liked to think that her horrible attempts at singing encouraged the children to sing a bit louder, even if they were just trying to drown her out.
“It’s... looking.” Molly frowned, as she thought back on the childrens' attempt to sing Jingle Bells, which had somehow turned into an utter fiasco. “We’ll just need a few more practices. Maybe a few more weeks. Honestly, maybe we should just postpone the choir’s performance until next Christmas.”
Hannah opened her mouth to respond, but the chime sounded from her shop’s front door. She turned her attention towards the source of the sound and smiled. “Hi there! Welcome to Sweetness & Light!”
A tall man stood in the middle of Hannah’s bakery wearing a chic, dark suit and a frustrated expression. “Please tell me you have espresso here. Please. Please.”
“Sure thing. Would you like it as a latte? Our eggnog latte is amazing.”
“An eggnog latte? Maybe if I wanted an early grave,” the man muttered to himself. “Just an Americano, please.”
“Do you want any cream, sugar, or flavoring? We have a great Christmas cookie flavored syrup this month,” Hannah said as she headed for the shop’s espresso machine, her hands quickly working the press.
The man looked appalled. “Just the Americano. Plain. Nothing else.” He took the empty seat two down from Molly at the counter. “I’m not really a cream or sugar kind of guy. And especially not holiday flavors.”
Molly’s face scrunched up in confusion. If he wasn’t a holiday flavors kind of guy, what was he even doing in this kind of town? This town was known for holiday everything. That was the major draw for most visitors, especially at this time of year.
“Are you visiting someone for the holidays?” Molly asked as she sipped at her hot chocolate. “Or just passing through?”
“Both.” The man smiled politely back at Molly, and she thought that he was rather handsome, in a businessman-in-a-three-piece-suit kind of way. His hazel eyes looked so serious, which matched the severity of his neatly trimmed jet-black hair. She could easily imagine him sitting at the head of important board meetings, timing everyone’s speech using the expensive gold wristwatch he kept checking.
“Here’s your Americano,” Hannah said, her words interrupting Molly’s thoughts. “I’ve got a few things to work on in the back before I close up for the night, Molly. You two should enjoy yourselves. Have a nice conversation. I'll box the pie up for later.”
She gave her friend an inconspicuous wink. Before Molly could protest this blatant attempt at getting her a date, Hannah had disappeared into a backroom. Molly'd just have to murder Hannah later.
“So, where are you from?” Molly asked. The guy was cute. She could at least talk to him.
“New York City.” The man’s answ
er was curt and straight to the point.
“Oh! New York. I used to live there when I was a kid.” Molly’s eyes lit up and she grinned at the man. “I didn’t know anybody else in town had family in New York—Oh, wait. Are you Mr. Williams’ nephew?”
“No.” The man took a sip of his coffee, but kept his gaze focused on Molly. His eyes really were beautiful. “I’m Nicholas Kerstman. Howard and Suzanne’s son.”
“Oh,” Molly said. Her heart sank a little bit. The man with the beautiful eyes was the man who hated Christmas. “You’re Nicholas Kerstman?”
“Is there a problem with that, Ms...” Nicholas leaned towards Molly, as he tried to read her name tag. “Head Elf?” Nicholas tilted his head to the side, while a finger tapped at his coffee cup. “Ahh. So, it’s you my parents love so much. Strange. I thought you’d be—”
“A guy?”
“No. A child.” Nicholas blinked a few times before bringing his drink back to his lips. “Sorry. It just seemed like such a kiddie job title. Didn’t think any adults would’ve applied.”
Molly let out a startled laugh, taken aback by Nicholas’ remarks about her chosen occupation. “I grew into the title, actually. I’ve been working with your parents for twelve years now. I think my kiddie job title is perfectly earned. I rather like it to be honest.”
Molly shifted out of her her seat to leave, no longer wanting to sit and chat. Unfortunately, it also displayed her full work outfit. She held her chin up, although she wished she had something a little more adult on than her satin red and green elf skirt and tights. She didn't like the look of disdain on his mouth when he looked at her clothing.
“You're certainly dressed the part,” he said, sipping at his coffee.
Embarrassing heat swept through her, spiked with a touch of justified anger. “I match the store,” she replied. “If you ever came by the place, you'd know that.”
Nicholas laughed now, too, while he settled his coffee cup on the counter. “You’re right about that, Ms. Head Elf. I’m not a regular customer. Well, I’m not really a customer at all. Never had much interest in the family business.”
“That's too bad. Your parents are really good at it,” she said. She forced an arm into her coat and picked up her purse.
“Christmas wasn’t always the family business,” Nicholas replied. “Before my parents opened the store, my dad used to manage stocks and bonds, and my mom used to teach university courses all around the world.”
“Mrs. Claus was a professor?” Molly asked. The idea of Mrs. Kerstman being anything but Mrs. Claus was strange enough to make her stop.
Nicholas shrugged. “People change.”
“Yeah, I guess they do...” Molly’s words trailed off. She put her purse on her shoulder. She'd get her pie from Hannah later. “I guess I’ll see you around the shop.”
“Actually, could you take me through a quick walk-through of the shop?” Nicholas grabbed onto his coffee cup and slid off the counter stool.
“A walk-through? Right now? But I just closed the shop,” Molly stammered.
“Yes, but you’re the Head Elf, aren’t you?” He motioned to her outfit. “Don’t you have all the power here? And all the necessary keys?”
“Oh. I... guess that’s true,” Molly said. She didn't want to go back to the store, especially with him. If he was this dismissive of her outfit, what would he think of the store? “Are you sure you don’t want to just wait until tomorrow morning?”
“Waiting until tomorrow morning would be inefficient,” Nicholas said as he stole a glance at his watch. “I think it’d be better to make the most of my limited time here. The sooner I can get out of here, the better.”
Molly frowned but took a deep breath. This was the Kerstmans’ son. It would be fine. Hopefully it would only take a few minutes and then she could be rid of him.
“Yeah. Okay,” she told him. “We can go to the shop right now.”
“Wonderful.” Nicholas’s tone sounded cheerful, but Molly didn’t turn to catch his expression, keeping her focus on heading out of the front door. The sooner they were done, the sooner she could be rid of Nicholas Kerstman.
Chapter 6
Nicholas
Ms. Head Elf was cute.
It’d been the first thing that Nicholas had noticed about her.
Looking past her borderline ridiculous outfit, he thought that her long legs, curly chestnut hair, and dark brown eyes all complemented each other. She was beautiful in a girl-next-door way.
When he'd first walked into the bakery, Nicholas had assumed that Molly’s Christmas-themed get-up had something to do with the annual parade in town, though he’d been certain that wasn’t for a few days’ time.
He’d never expected that she worked for his parents, just like he’d never expected that one of the first things he’d say to her would be such a harsh insult about her chosen line of work.
Nicholas blamed his foot-in-mouth disease on his lack of proper coffee. The flight out had been delayed due to weather. The coffee shop at the airport had been closed. When he'd arrived in town, the lack of coffee shops was startling. It was one of the many reasons he hated coming back here.
Nicholas reluctantly took in the sights of the town as they walked the short distance to the store. He tried his best to not let all the Christmas bother him too much. His eyes scanned over the myriad of adorned Christmas trees on every street corner, the singing from the carolers, and the way the hanging, glittering lights reflected off the pure white snow, making it almost seem like the snow itself was coming alive in different colors on the walkway.
“Candy cane?” Molly’s abrupt offer stopped Nicholas in his tracks. She held the candy cane out towards him.
“Uh... no.” Nicholas sucked in air through his teeth, because he knew that he was talking to a total Christmasholic, and any variation of no was going to be the wrong answer. “Sorry.”
“Huh. I’ve never had someone turn down a free candy cane before,” Molly said. She placed the candy cane back into her coat pocket as she turned back towards the sidewalk. “Welp. First time for everything.”
“Candy canes are just a fun way to rot your teeth,” Nicholas said, following in Molly’s footsteps. “People should really limit themselves more.”
“Yeah, you’re right. People should really limit their candy intake during Christmas,” Molly said. “I guess people should also limit their cake intake on their birthday.”
Nicholas wanted to laugh at Molly’s blithe dissection of his argument, but he asked a question instead. “I don’t think I caught your full name? Back at the bakeshop?”
“Molly. Molly Carmichael,” Molly said. She kept her eyes straight ahead. “And we’re almost there.”
Molly turned one final corner, her fingers reaching for her keyring. She quickly opened the doors to Christmas Wishes, and an ear-splitting siren blared through the store.
Nicholas noticed a slight smile spreading across Molly’s face as she turned toward him. “I bet I can guess your birthday.”
“What?” Nicholas cringed as the alarm continued. He was sure the police would arrive any moment and arrest them both.
“0-7-2-8.” Molly spoke the numbers aloud while entering them into a keypad.
When she’d finished, the alarm went silent and Nicholas let out a sigh of relief.
“I’ve asked my parents several times to not use my birthday as a passcode. It’s too easy to figure out,” he said, looking annoyed.
“Yeah, but they’re your parents, and parents don’t take orders, they give orders,” Molly replied, moving to close the front door behind them. “Now that we’re here, did you have something in mind that you wanted to see? I could show you a few of our displays—"
“Just the financial books, please.” Nicholas set down his cup of coffee,and loosened the scarf around his neck. “I’ll only need your financials from the last two years. No need to go back any further than that.”
“Why do you need the books?” Molly
asked, giving Nicholas a worried look and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Are we going bankrupt?”
“No, nothing like that. If we were going bankrupt, I wouldn’t need to see the books at all. I could’ve just stayed in New York,” Nicholas said with a chuckle before he noticed that Molly wasn’t laughing at all. He pretended to cough into his hand, wishing he was making a better impression on her. “I need to make sure we’re a valuable asset for anyone interested in seasonal stores.”
“Valuable asset?” Molly asked with a frown. “I’m not sure I understand what that means.”
“I’m looking into selling the store.”
Her mouth fell open and her beautiful eyes went wide. She looked like he'd just told her the world was coming to an end.
“What?” Molly asked, her voice shaky and higher than before. “What do you mean ‘looking into selling the store’?”
“Oh, no, no! Don’t freak out. Your job is totally safe. My parents would still be in charge of hiring and firing, and I’m sure they’d keep you around,” Nicholas reassured her. “I’m mostly just selling the rights to the store. Letting someone else take control, behind the scenes. The Kerstmans would still be the face, but someone else will be doing all the dirty work, accounting, leasing, all the boring stuff.”
The shocked look still didn't leave her face. If anything, she now looked angry.
“The boring stuff? You mean all the stuff that makes the store ours—I mean, makes the store your parents’ store? Yeah, that stuff can be annoying, but it’s part of owning something that’s ours— I mean yours.” Molly’s face grew more and more flustered. “I mean, sell the store? Can you even do that? How can you even think of doing that? Do your parents know?”
Nicholas had to resist the urge to smile at her barage of questions.
“My name’s on the deed,” Nicholas explained. “Dad handed it over to me a few years back. I haven’t told them about selling the store yet, but I think they’ll understand. You and I both know they’re not getting any younger, Ms. Molly. Who’s supposed to run the store when they’re retired and living full-time in Miami?”
