“That’s not all I’m good at,” he whispered into her ear.
A little warm didn’t come close to describing the heat wave now rushing through her.
Chapter Seven
While they finished their lunch, Michael looked around the diner. Anything to keep from giving in and getting closer to Amber. She had always drawn him in, but leaning down to hear her soft voice had almost sent him toppling into her lap.
He studied the room. If not for his promise to help Amber, to pretend to be her date, he could easily have written off this lunch.
She might have hit it right when she had called him Scrooge. As far as he was concerned, all the holiday decorations on the walls had to go. The Santa and Mrs. Claus salt and pepper shakers sitting on the tables could follow. The ornaments dangling from the light fixtures above their heads only added to his reasons for disliking this place.
And the kicker—the dishes listed on the menu.
Reindeer Roast Beef and Snowball Smashed Potatoes. Yuletide Yams. Santa’s Favorite Fries.
And he’d thought the Candy Cane was a bad choice of name!
“What did you think of the Mistletoe Meatloaf?” Amber’s dad asked him.
With his fork, Michael flicked aside the large sprig of parsley that had been decorating his dinner, probably meant to represent the mistletoe. “Best I’ve ever eaten,” he said truthfully. If only he could forget what it was called.
Evidently, he’d given the wrong answer. Mr. Barnett waved his hand and said, “You haven’t tasted a good meatloaf until you’ve tried my wife’s.”
“Yeah,” Drew said. “Mom makes the best ever.”
High praise, coming from a teenager. Then again, teen boys loved their food. So did he. “Maybe your mom should pass her recipe along to the cook here at the…diner.”
“Are you kidding?” Lyssa asked. Seated beside him, she looked up, her expression serious. “That meatloaf is a family secret.”
On his other side, Amber shifted in her chair. No need to see her expression to read that reaction. She didn’t like the reminder of her own secrets—her unpaid bill, the new living arrangements, their agreement about pretending to be a couple. All those had her on edge. He couldn’t help wanting to calm her nerves.
Instead, he found the waitress holding a menu out to him. He ran his eye down the dessert list and made his choice. Pumpkin Pie with Merry Little Marshmallows. Just the thing.
He rested his arm on the back of Amber’s chair again. His hand brushed her hair, and just that brief touch left his fingertips tingling. He wanted more.
Last night, tough as it had been, he’d done the right thing and backed away from her. But they were here today to put on a performance, weren’t they? Gently, he tugged on one of her silky strands. “Sounds like you’ve been keeping things from me, Amber. Has your mom passed her meatloaf recipe down to you?”
She laughed, her eyes sparkling. Talk about being good at playing a role. This woman was Oscar material. “Well,” she said, “I am part of the family.”
“I take it that’s a yes. Good. You’ll have to make it for me sometime.”
Her smile froze, but only for a second. “I can do that.”
“Oh, but look at this,” Lyssa said suddenly. Now she was grinning at him. “Here’s one thing Mom doesn’t add to her meatloaf. Mistletoe.” She took the sprig of parsley from his plate and dangled it over his head.
“Uh-oh,” said one of the twins.
“You know what that means,” said the other twin.
“I have to kiss Lyssa?” he asked.
“Hey, man,” Nick said, “kiss your own woman.”
Everyone at the table laughed. Except Amber, who stared at him, wide-eyed.
His own woman. Since he’d met her, he’d fought not to think of her that way. At first, she was married. Then, she was pregnant. Last and always, she was a mom focused on family.
He looked overhead. Lyssa waved the parsley. It wasn’t real mistletoe, and he and Amber weren’t really a couple. But her entire family sat watching. He’d started this whole “together” thing and now he had to see it through. With a quick kiss, that’s all. For her sake.
He slid his arm around her shoulders. “Guess we’ve got to uphold a Christmas tradition, don’t we?”
“Uh…”
No big deal. One quick kiss to satisfy her family. One kiss just long enough to feel the softness of her lips, to taste a trace of iced tea, to catch the scent of perfume so light he hadn’t known she was wearing any, to hear… Bells?
No, not bells. The ringing of silverware against glass.
He sat back. Amber looked starry-eyed. The ringing died down, replaced by laughter.
“Thought you were never coming up for air,” Nick said.
“Maybe Mom does need to add some mistletoe to her recipe,” Lyssa said with a laugh.
“In any case,” Mr. Barnett said, “Mom needs to put meatloaf on the menu one of these days. It’s been a while since we’ve had it at home.”
“It has,” Mrs. Barnett agreed. “That’s a good idea. I’ll plan it for later this week. And Michael, you’re invited for supper that night.”
Earth to Michael. He blinked, refusing to look at Amber. “Thanks.” He forced a smile. No sense announcing that no matter what night it was, they wouldn’t need to set a chair at the table for him.
He’d gotten Amber off the hook with her family. But when it came to his feelings for her, he was still dangling like that phony mistletoe. Still fighting. Still trying to pretend those feelings didn’t exist.
Time for a change of subject. “So, what does Snowflake Valley do for the grand opening—a ribbon-cutting ceremony?”
“Nothing that formal,” Callie told him. “The mayor says a few words, this year I’ll announce the auction, then Santa will arrive in his sleigh.”
He managed not to roll his eyes. “Let me guess. It’s pulled by eight tiny reindeer.”
“Actually, it’s motor-driven.” Amber sounded steadier than he felt. “We were forced to do away with the reindeer idea. The horses standing in for them refused to wear their antlers.”
“That’s a real break with tradition.”
“Sometimes you have to step outside the box.”
“True. I’ve said that more than once in a staff meeting.” He looked down at her, unable to give up another glimpse of her curved lips. How much more of a fool could he be? Though her smiles might have been genuine, they weren’t meant for him.
For his own peace of mind—and his self-preservation—their acting gig had to end. He would break the news to her tonight. They wouldn’t renege on any plans with Nick and Lyssa. But for the rest of the Barnetts, he and Amber would fall back on his excuse of all the work he’d brought along with him.
Yeah. That paperwork. A much better alternative than spending more time with Amber and her baby and her family.
The waitress set his dessert plate in front of him. He grabbed his fork and stabbed one of his Merry Little Marshmallows.
“Thank you for treating my family to lunch,” Amber said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Michael looked down at her. They were walking along the sidewalk outside the Candy Cane, headed for the community center. She had been all smiles ever since he’d kissed her.
As with the caroling last night, they’d fallen behind the rest of her family. Good. It gave them a chance to talk. “I was happy to pick up the lunch tab. I had already invited Nick and Lyssa out for a meal.”
“But not everyone else.”
“No problem. You all seem to come as a package deal.”
“We do. Most of the time, anyway. And you have to admit it’s a good deal, isn’t it?”
Not for him. Not when it was a family package.
He couldn’t have the conversation he wanted with her right here. Swallowing a sigh, he glanced down the street ahead of them. “How far is it we’re going?”
“We’ve arrived.” She gestured to a single-story, squ
are building surrounded by a snow-covered lawn. “This is the community center.”
They followed the rest of her family into the building.
A short, broad-shouldered man he recognized from previous visits to Snowflake Valley immediately headed their way. Mayor Corrigan held out his hand. “Michael. I’d heard you were in town and had planned to look you up. How long are you here?”
“Till January second.” One week from today.
“Excellent.” The mayor beamed. He glanced at his watch. “We’re not due to start the festivities for a few minutes. If you can spare me a moment, I have a proposition I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Fine.” Though odd. He’d never done business with anyone in Snowflake Valley. What would the mayor want with him? A glance around him showed the entire Barnett family—plus Nick—must have wondered the same thing.
Mayor Corrigan gestured to the opposite side of the room. “Come this way. We can chat in the office.”
“I’ll see you later—” Amber began.
“Not at all,” the mayor said. “I wanted to speak with you, too, Amber.”
Michael exchanged a quick glance with her. She seemed as puzzled as he was.
In the room at the end of the hallway, the mayor ushered them to seats and took a chair behind a large desk. He rested his palms flat on the desktop. “I’ll come directly to the point. Michael, the town council is looking to hire a firm to update the decorations here in town. We’d like you to consider the job.”
“Thanks.” Again, he stopped short of rolling his eyes. “But I’m not a decorator. I’m in electronics.”
“Precisely. It’s the electronic displays I’m talking about.”
Plenty of those in this town. The job could turn into a lucrative contract, especially for a small, privately-owned company. “You’re talking about the displays all through Snowflake Valley,” he clarified.
“Every one of them. We do regular upkeep and maintenance, of course. But it’s been quite some time since they’ve had an overhaul.”
“That doesn’t sound like just a job pushing papers,” Amber said quietly.
A stronger man might not have caved, but one look at those eyes, now shining again, did him in. Touching her temple with one fingertip, he brushed away a lock of hair.
The mayor cleared his throat. Startled, Michael turned back to him.
“We’re talking about more than mere cosmetic changes. We’d like to upgrade some of the displays to laser light systems.”
Michael nodded. The town’s plans would involve much more than just new installation. He sat forward. “You’re looking for someone who will bring in their own designs?”
“Exactly—while staying true to the old-fashioned ambience of Snowflake Valley, of course,” the mayor finished hastily.
“Of course.” He tried to keep his tone level. “I’m sure I could come up with a proposal that would satisfy your council members.”
“I’m sure you could, too. We’ve done our research, and you come highly recommended.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Mayor Corrigan raised a hand in caution. “Naturally, we’d have to open the job for bidding. But we want more than a low-ball price.” He smiled. “We want the right man for the job, and I’m certain that’s you.”
Beside him, he could see Amber gripping her hands together in her lap. She couldn’t be feeling the same rising excitement he was…could she?
“It’s good that you’re here right now,” the mayor said. “You’ll need to see the town from top to bottom in order to submit a comprehensive bid. More important, the council members want to see you’re interested in Snowflake Valley. The best way to show them that is to get involved in everything going on during the town’s busiest season.” He smiled broadly. “I can’t think of any better way to show you’re the right candidate and to prove your interest than by taking part in the biggest annual event we hold just for our citizens.”
Hearing Amber’s indrawn breath, Michael stiffened. She knew what was coming. Nothing good.
“’Course, I’m a bit biased.” The mayor’s aw-shucks delivery confirmed Michael’s suspicion. “The Snow Ball gets a lot of press, and as you know, good press is good news for any small town.”
“I’m happy to make a donation.”
The man waved the suggestion away. “No, sir. While your contribution will be greatly appreciated, it’s not your money that’ll prove your worth to the council. It’s your willingness to participate.” He smiled again. “I want you to run for Snow Ball King.”
Now he knew how Amber had felt when Callie wanted to put her in the royal hot seat. “I can’t do that.”
“’Course, you can. There’s nothing to it. Just show up at the major functions in town, shake a few hands, pat a few babies’ heads.”
“I’m only here for a week.”
“And the voting’s held on New Year’s Eve. You’ll be here.”
Or else. He also knew a veiled threat when he heard one. Either run for the position or get run out of town, so to speak, as far as being awarded that contract.
The trouble was, he had to admit the mayor’s proposition had already snagged his interest. The job intrigued him more than anything had in years. The scope of it. The fun of working with the latest technology. The challenge of designing and creating new displays himself…not that he was wild about Santa sleighs and reindeer.
A knock sounded on the office door. “Come in,” the mayor called.
A tense-looking woman stood in the doorway. “Mayor, we’re in a stalemate up front, and your vote’s the tiebreaker. It will only take a minute.”
“I’ll be right there.” The woman disappeared from sight, and Mayor Corrigan turned back to him. “I take it we have an understanding. Mind you, you don’t have to win the competition, Michael, just participate. And naturally, with you running for Snow King, I’ll nominate Amber as Queen.”
She gasped. “Mayor, I can’t accept that.”
“’Course, you can,” he said again.
“But I…Michael and I aren’t eligible. We’re…together.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Word sure got around in this town.
The mayor leaned forward, staring deliberately at Amber’s clasped hands. “I don’t see any engagement ring on your finger. And if you’re not officially spoken for, my dear, you’re eligible for my nomination.”
Lyssa must not have known about this little loophole.
Amber stared at him.
He froze. She couldn’t expect him now to go out and buy her a ring…could she?
“Sit tight,” the mayor said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
…
Once the door swung closed behind Mayor Corrigan, Amber “sat tight” for as long as she could. Three seconds, max. Then she whipped around to face Michael. “You have to do this.”
His hands went up in protest. “Whoa. Hold on, Amber. Playing at being a couple’s one thing. Acting like some fairytale characters, just to get your family off your back—”
“That’s not the point.”
“It isn’t?”
“No.”
“You don’t actually want us to become King and Queen?”
“Of course not.” Of course, yes. What little girl growing up in Snowflake Valley—growing up anywhere—wouldn’t want to be Queen of the Snow Ball? And with the possibility of being Queen to Michael’s King? How could she turn down that chance?
Which made it a huge struggle to tell yet another little white lie. But this time, she would willingly sacrifice one of her childhood dreams for something now much more important. She would even stop thinking about their kiss at the Candy Cane…for the moment. “You want that contract, Michael.”
He laughed. “You would say that. You believe Snowflake Valley’s the greatest thing since—”
“No. That’s not what I meant, either. This is all about you. You want that job. That’s all there is to it.”
He frowned, as if he suspected she’d had a hand in the mayor’s offer. “Why? What do you know about it?”
“Nothing about the town’s plans. But I know how you reacted when Mayor Corrigan laid everything out to you. Don’t tell me the idea didn’t catch your interest. You gave yourself away. Your voice…your body language… You looked as if you were ready to get down to work right that minute.”
“I’ll admit, there were some things about the project that intrigued me.”
“Right. Like, no paperwork.”
“There will always be paperwork,” he said dryly.
She laughed. “You know what I mean. Instead of being just a paper-pusher, the way you’d said you are, you’ll be able to get hands-on with this project.” And maybe need to spend more time in Snowflake Valley.
“Getting awarded that contract could make a big difference. It’ll relieve some of the boredom, anyhow. But I’m sure you got the mayor’s point. I’ll be in the running for the project only as long as I run in the competition.”
“He also said it’s not that hard.”
“I’ll bet.”
“You won’t be alone. I’ll be right there beside you.”
“Will you?” One eyebrow went up. “You have to know what this will mean. We’ll be playing to a packed house. To the whole town, not just to your family.”
“I can do that.”
“You think so? Shake a few hands and all the rest of it… Right. You also heard the mayor say word’s gotten around about us being together. You think the gossips spreading that word won’t be watching us?”
“I can handle that.”
“Yeah? What happens when we’re out in public?”
“We…we’ll act just the way we’ve been acting.”
“You mean, like at the Candy Cane? Because I have a feeling the residents of Snowflake Valley want to see some sparks between a prospective King and Queen.”
She took a deep breath to steady her voice. Forget his running for Snow Ball King. Let him see how she really felt, and most likely he would run all the way home to California. “I can do sparks.” With her eyes closed. Just the way she had when Michael had kissed her.
One Week to Win Her Boss (Snowflake Valley) Page 7
