“Like a matchmaking website?” He couldn’t keep the skepticism from his tone.
“More like a matchmaking activity. I don’t want to do this exclusively, but people love love at Christmas—who doesn’t want to help someone find their true love this time of year?”
“He may not want to do it,” Jack said.
She folded her arms. “Okay, what’s with the downer attitude?” She continued before he could formulate a response. “Unless you’re identifying too much with Donovan. Both of you work crazy hours and don’t believe in love. Are you projecting?”
He blinked slowly. “Uh, no.”
“Do you want to go on the show?”
“Definitely not.”
“Then what’s your deal?”
He shook his head, unable to explain this sense of jealousy he felt toward a man who had never even met Holly. But his sister thought they’d be perfect together. He was being crazy. “Nothing. I think I have too many ScaryWary camp hijinks running through my mind.”
“What do I have to lose by asking?” she said. “Worst thing happens, he says no, and then I go back through my emails and find another couple to interview. But I really like this idea. It would be different than anything I’ve ever done, but enough along the same theme that it’s still on-brand.” Her voice drifted off, but he could see her mind whirling behind her eyes. “If I can do this well, I might get more views, which would mean more money for Bridger Cares.”
“We’ll get enough with the party,” he said without much confidence.
“The party that’s in less than three weeks and we just found out about?” She shook her head. “I don’t want to count on that alone.”
Neither did Jack. He didn’t want to admit that Holly’s idea wasn’t a bad one and it could be the kind of thing other people liked to watch, but it also meant she was going to meet the person someone else thought she should marry.
“What could I do to get Donovan to say yes to coming on the show?”
Jack sighed. If he and Donovan were so much alike, then there was only one right answer. “You could agree to go on a date with him.”
“Stop teasing. I need some real ideas.”
“I am being serious. He might be willing to go on dates with other people if you go on a date with him first. You’re so passionate about your show and love, you may be able to persuade him to do it.”
She tilted her head in thought, but eventually shook it. “I’ll meet with Megan and see if she has any ideas. I think I need more details about him.”
Jack frowned, but Holly was already emailing Megan back. He glanced over her shoulder.
Megan,
I’m not a good fit for Donovan, but I have a great idea I’m hoping you’ll like. Do you have a time we could meet for dinner? I’m free this weekend.
She sent it off, leaving Jack with a knot of trepidation in his gut.
Chapter 6
While Jack waited in the parking lot of the Bridger Branch Library for Rebecca to show up with Shiloh, he opened the email Danforth had forwarded him last night. Danforth hadn’t exaggerated when he said Veronica hadn’t done much for the dinner. She’d at least included the name and contact number for a person at the ski resort who could help him get back on track.
He checked the clock. He was fifteen minutes early, and Rebecca usually ran about fifteen minutes late, so he had time for a phone call.
“This is Tucker,” the voice on the other end said.
“Dr. Jack Shay here. I’m calling about the Bridger Cares Foundation Dinner.”
“Yes,” Tucker said, the relief in his voice palpable. “I’ve been attempting to get a hold of Veronica for a couple of weeks, but she’s not returning my phone calls.”
“She quit recently, so I’m taking over for her.” He cringed at the words, the whole thing making it sound so real.
“Okay, give me a second …” Jack heard Tucker rustling around before he said, “Alright, I’ve got your account pulled up. It looks like you wanted the ballroom set for two hundred and fifty people. Is that correct?”
Jack had no idea. “I suppose.”
“And we’re waiting on meal numbers.”
“Meal numbers?” Jack parroted.
“How many people want beef, chicken, or vegetarian plates?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
Tucker paused for a telling moment. “We need that number as soon as possible. Like by the end of the week, along with any special dietary need requests.”
Jack cringed. That was not going to happen.
“What kind of special A/V equipment are you going to want? For now, we’ve got you down for the standard A/V package, but Veronica mentioned she might want an upgrade, depending on who she got to keynote.”
Keynote. Jack let out a long, frustrated breath. Veronica’s email hadn’t said anything about a keynote, and if he had to wager a guess, they didn’t have one yet. “I’m not sure,” he said, through his teeth, trying to remain calm. “I’m coming into all of this blind, to be honest.”
“So I’m guessing you don’t know the theme, or if you’ll be renting a portable dance floor?”
Jack’s silence was answer enough.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Tucker said after letting out a long breath. “Give me your email. I’ll send you a list of all the questions we need answered, in the order we need them in.”
Jack felt like an intern again—too many “I don’t knows” piling up one after the other. He tried to imagine his own interns hearing him say “I don’t know,” a phrase he never uttered at work. If he didn’t know something, he would work ceaselessly until he did know it.
But that was life-or-death stakes. This was just about steaks, and he was struggling to care one whit about it.
Except the foundation would fail if he failed. And he couldn’t let that happen. Not to Dallon’s dream. Not to Holly, either.
He thought longingly of the email from the other hospital. He knew they were waiting on him for an answer either way. He knew he was going to say no. But when he went to type his reply, he found he couldn’t. Instead, last night, he’d asked for another week, and they’d replied that they’d give him until Christmas.
He hung up with Tucker as Rebecca knocked on the passenger window a little harder than necessary. He rolled the window down as Shiloh jumped into the back seat, leaning forward between the front seats to give him a hug and kiss on the cheek. Her naturally curly brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, showing off her brand-new pierced ears, making her look way older than eight years.
“You need to have her here tomorrow morning, right at six,” Rebecca said, bringing his attention back to her. “Our flight leaves at eight, so you can’t be late this time. I mean it, Jack.”
Jack bit back his angry retort. When he and Rebecca fought, Shiloh suffered. It took all of his patience not to remind her she was always the late one. Not him.
And not to ask when she’d decided to let Shiloh get her ears pierced, especially without running it past him first. He didn’t really care, but it was one more indication that he had less of a role in his daughter’s life than he wished. Had they at least gone somewhere sanitary?
He was more grateful than ever that he’d spent the morning with Holly. Spending time with her had a way of softening his hard edges, which was keeping him from lashing out reflexively at Rebecca now, as instinct pressed him to do.
“I will,” he said instead through his teeth, holding on to thoughts of the warm fireplace with Holly near his side, sharing her contagious effervescence toward life despite how hard she’d had it.
Rebecca glared at him for one second longer, as if she could hear the litany of thoughts he kept in his head, before setting Shiloh’s overnight bag on the back seat beside her. She softened as she gave their daughter a hug and told her to be good. Shiloh definitely brought out the best in them, which wasn’t all that great. But it was something, at least.
The divorce hadn’t been pretty.
They’d both wanted full custody of Shiloh and hadn’t thought about how they’d be metaphorically tearing her down the middle. They got shared custody in the end, with his ex getting the greater share overall, but the damage had been done, only to be worsened when he was so messed up after the accident with Dallon. He’d walked in a haze for months, only coming out of it to let the world know how miserable he was. If he’d been mostly jokingly called Gaston before, it became a moniker he grew into, embraced. The handsome man with the cold stone, selfish heart.
Only Holly seemed to see past it. Ironic, since she’d actively disliked him before the accident. Not that he could blame her. He’d done everything in his power to get under her skin back then.
“What do you want to do today?” he asked as soon as Rebecca left.
“Can we go Christmas shopping? I want to get something for Mom and Gary.”
He nodded and tried to keep a smile on his face. The last thing he wanted to do was go shopping for his ex and her new husband, but if that was what Shiloh wanted to do, they’d do it.
“So don’t tell me,” he said as he pulled out of the library parking lot, “but I think the camp nurse is the bad guy.”
Shiloh let out a squeal of excitement. “You watched it!”
They spent the rest of the drive to the Christmas-decorated Main Street near Holly’s townhome, discussing the ins and outs of the first season of Camp ScaryWary. By the end of the drive, when he saw how happy it had made Shiloh, he knew he’d be watching seasons two and three.
Chapter 7
A few days passed, and Holly only got more excited about her matchmaking idea for One Great Love Story. She still needed to hear from Megan, though, and her heart jumped when her phone rang as she walked back to the Cardiac ICU to check on a few patients after lunch with Jack. Her excitement fled when she saw the name on her screen. Dad.
She sighed, and with a deep breath for fortitude, she answered.
“Holly! It’s so good to hear your voice.” His warm, familiar tone brought her immediately back to years of talking long-distance when she was in college and longing for home. Her mom had died in her second year of college, and her homesickness had intensified until she’d called her dad nearly every day, a habit that continued until he’d married his second wife. Glenda had thought it was too clingy of both of them to talk so much.
“You too, Dad,” she said.
“What are you up to?”
“Working. But I’ve got a minute.”
“Oh good. I’ve got some news,” he said. Visitors walked past her, carrying balloons and stuffed animals, excitedly talking, as they headed toward the maternity wing. “Both good and bad.”
With her dad, that could mean anything. “What’s the good news?” she asked.
“Dorie and I were talking last night and decided, why wait to get married? We’re not getting any younger! And since you and her kids weren’t able to get off of work on such late notice, we booked a flight to Hawaii for a destination wedding.”
“Wow,” she said, trying to digest it all. “That’s … great.” This would be her dad’s sixth marriage, and she had no confidence this one would last. She’d hoped before, but it was hard to keep hoping. She had met Dorie at Thanksgiving and thought she was nice enough, if not a little annoying about her four cats. Her dad did seem happier than he had in a while, she guessed. But he was always happy in the beginning. It didn’t take long for him to grow dissatisfied once again. Sometimes she wondered what exactly her dad was looking for in all of these relationships. If he even knew what he was looking for.
He continued. “The bad news is, we’re doing it over Christmas.”
She bit her lip hard to keep from saying anything less than enthusiastic. He’d mentioned coming to see her for Christmas since she had to work. She’d gone so far as to buy tickets to a showing of A Christmas Carol in Denver. They’d gone to see it every year before her Mom died, but after, like so many of their traditions, it stopped.
She’d always intended to pick up the tradition with Dallon, but they were too busy. And then time ran out.
“The plane tickets were such a great deal,” he continued, completely oblivious to her disappointment. And relief. It was an odd combination of feelings she usually had when she spoke to her dad.
“I understand. Tell Dorie I said hello.”
“I will. Dorie loves your show,” he added.
“Thanks,” she said, arriving at the ICU. “I’d better go.”
“Okay. Thanks for understanding. Love you!”
“Love you too, Dad,” she said, hanging up the phone and resolving once again to never be like her dad, searching for love with person after person and failing again and again. He’d been lucky to have an epic love story with her mom, and Holly wished fervently that he’d stop waiting for lightning to strike a second time.
Holly went into Francis’s room on her regular cardiology floor after her ICU rounds, happy to see his color normal and him sitting up in bed, his laptop open. “I think we’re going to get you home today,” Holly said.
He and his wife both looked up from the computer screen with a big smile for her. “We googled you,” Francis said. “You’ve been keeping a secret.”
Holly paused, her stomach twisting. It wasn’t the first time one of her patients had looked her up on the Internet—people liked to know who was working on them—but she always wondered what they were going to bring up next. She’d made the mistake of searching herself once, not long after Dallon died, and after her medical profile page and her page at the hospital, it had been article after article about Dallon’s accident. She hadn’t searched her name since.
“You have your own MyHeartChannel show,” Pauline said.
“About things of the heart,” Francis continued.
Relief flooded through Holly. They weren’t going to want to rehash everything that had happened with Dallon. She was more than happy—thrilled, even—to talk about her MyHeartChannel show. “One Great Love Story,” she said as she pulled aside Francis’s gown top to check the incision.
“We watched every episode.” Pauline shared a long-suffering look with Francis. “We had a lot of time to kill in here.”
“Wait, was that a death joke?” Francis appeared appalled, but the twitching beside his mouth suggested he was fighting a smile. His wife shook her head mirthfully.
Holly laughed. She sure liked these two. But she knew from personal experience that being in the hospital, especially once you were feeling a little bit better but couldn’t go home yet, made the hours stretch to feeling very long.
“So what did you think?” she couldn’t help but ask. The nurses had pulled away the bandaging as instructed, and the incision looked like it was healing fantastically. She needed to pull out and stitch the chest tube, and if everything went well, he’d be able to check out that afternoon.
“I’d like to interview you,” Francis said. He breathed in and out deeply as she indicated, while she listened to his heart and lungs with her stethoscope. “For the Bridger Daily.”
“Me? Why?”
“It’s the perfect personal interest story: the cardiologist who also runs a popular MyHeartChannel show about love.”
“Popular may be stretching things a bit.” She covered him back up and recorded a few notes into her laptop about her observations.
“You have over fifty thousand subscribers. That’s not too shabby.”
It wasn’t great either. But she hadn’t gotten into this to be popular; she’d done it to share great love stories and have something to occupy the long, lonely hours she faced after Dallon died.
“So will you do it?” Francis asked.
Holly frowned. It would mean more exposure, which would be more potential money for the foundation, but Francis needed rest more than anything. “I think you need to take it easy for a while. Maybe take a few weeks off of work, not find a new story while you’re still in the hospital.”
Pauline nodded in agreement, but F
rancis had a stubborn tilt to his chin that told Holly he wasn’t going to let this go.
“This’ll be like taking a break,” he insisted. “I’ll email you the questions and then call you with any follow-up clarification I need. I’d also like to contact a few of your colleagues so we can get a full picture. I promise it won’t require me to even leave my house.”
At this, his wife nodded again. “He’s usually following ambulances—or worse—to his next story.”
Holly stalled for time by entering his vitals into the chart. What would her colleagues say about her? Nerves swirled through her belly as she thought about her story out there for everyone. She couldn’t talk about One Great Love Story without mentioning Dallon, but talking about him was always hard. Hard being an understatement.
“People love love this time of year,” Francis continued, bringing her back exactly to what she’d been telling Jack only yesterday. If that wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was.
“Okay, I’m in.” Saying the words out loud made it real. For someone who loved talking about other people, she definitely preferred to not be the one in the spotlight.
“I’ll email your questions later today,” he said, but Holly shook her head firmly.
“I don’t want to see it before tomorrow. Rest today, work later, okay?”
He hesitated, and she could tell he wanted to argue, but he finally nodded. “I’ll agree, but only because you saved my life.”
“Thank you. I still want to hear your love story.”
“You could put it on your show,” Francis said. “I think we’d fit right in.”
“It’s too boring for her show,” Pauline said.
“Not when I tell it,” Francis replied.
Holly laughed. She’d love to have them on her show. Even if their story ended up being a run-of-the-mill episode (which she doubted), their banter would be entertaining enough to make up for it.
Her beeper buzzed, and she glanced at it. The emergency room was paging her, which meant she needed to run. “Send me the email and we’ll set up a time for me to interview you,” she told them. “I’ve got to take this.”
One Great Christmas Love Story Page 4
