'Twas the Week Before Christmas

by Olivia Miles

  “My company, Hamilton Properties, is a major retail developer. We have centers throughout the country. Twenty-six in total.”

  George nodded his head gravely. “Impressive.”

  “I’ll get right to the point, George. For some time now my company has been strategizing to build a shopping center approximately halfway between Boston and New York City. We’ve done extensive research and planning, including securing several major retailers in order to get the bank to approve the loan. All of these efforts are hinging on one thing, location. We’ve pulled the demographics and we’ve driven around several sites. We feel very strongly that your parcel would be the ideal location for our center.”

  George’s jaw slacked. “My parcel? You mean...The White Barn Inn?”

  Max was brisk. “Yes.”

  Gobsmacked, George sat back in his chair, saying nothing as he digested the information. “Wow. I don’t even know what to say.”

  “I understand this must feel random. I wasn’t informed that you owned the land until two days ago.”

  “Are you aware that I have a verbal agreement with Holly Tate to sell her that land?”

  Max swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. “Yes, I’m aware. Is this why you never put the land up for sale before? A parcel of this size is worth a lot of money.”

  George’s brow creased with trouble. “Holly’s our friend. Her family has leased the land for generations... It just didn’t feel like it was ours to sell.”

  “Well, I can assure you it is your land to sell.”

  George’s expression fell and after a beat, he tossed up his hands. “I’ve had this arrangement in place with her for...years. I’m supposed to transfer the deed to her on Christmas Day. It’s already been decided. I’m...I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re too late.”

  Max blew out a breath. Slipping his hand into the leather briefcase at his feet, he pulled out the offer he had drawn up before coming to Maple Woods. He extended his arm across the coffee table to George. “If you wouldn’t mind taking a look at this before you make your decision, I’d appreciate it. I’m under the impression that there is nothing legally binding the sale to Holly at this point, correct?”

  “That’s correct. However, there was a stipulation in the original lease that said the lessee—Holly’s family—would have first rights to the purchase of the property on the expiration of their lease. That thing is ninety-nine years old. And here we are, less than a week before it expires.” George sighed and reached for the paper Max was extending. The color drained from his face as his eyes scanned the page.

  “It’s a fair price for the land, I can assure you,” Max said evenly. He could only imagine what George Miller must be thinking right now. Though he didn’t know how much Holly and the Millers had agreed on for the purchase of the land, he thought it safe to assume it was less than five percent of the offer he was making.

  “What about Holly?” George asked when he managed to find his voice.

  “So long as we come to an agreement before Christmas Day when the lease expires, I don’t think there should be a problem.” Max cleared his throat. He had four days before that land essentially transferred to Holly for a fraction of its value, and he couldn’t risk trying to sway her to sell. His best bet was dealing directly with George Miller.

  “And the inn?”

  Max’s stomach tightened.

  “I’m afraid it will have to be razed.” He paused. May as well say it. “The barns would have to be torn down, as well. I understand there are some orchards. Those would be leveled. Basically, everything would have to be cleared to leave room for the foundation and the parking lot. A center of this size requires a lot of land.”

  “But why our land, specifically? Surely there must be other—”

  Max shook his head. “No. Believe me. A lot of time has gone into finding the perfect location for this development. We have to look at the size of the parcel, the proximity to competing centers, the distance to major highways, the general age range and income of the population within radiuses of various mileages. Consumer behavior... I could continue, if you’d like.”

  “And all that led you to our land?”

  “Yes.” Max steepled his fingers and looked down at the scuffed floorboards. swallowed hard and gritted his teeth. Everything he was stating was a fact. A cold, hard fact. There was no other option. The only way for this development to flourish was if it was built on the land that housed Holly’s inn.

  So why was he having so much trouble accepting that himself?

  George let out a long whistle and looked around the crowded room, processing some inner thought. “Understand the position I’m in, Max. Holly is a dear friend of my wife’s and I’m fond of her as well. The town loves her. And that inn—everyone loves that inn.”

  “I wish I could say we could save the inn, but we can’t. It sits too far back from the road, and it cuts into too much of the acreage. Believe me when I say that I wish it could be different. But...it can’t.” Now that his plans were being spoken aloud and set into motion, Max felt dizzy with guilt. The metallic taste in his mouth was a physical reminder of how corrupt his behavior was, even to himself. He meant what he said, that he wished this could be different. But he was a realist, and he knew that some things just were what they were. And he was going to tear down The White Barn Inn the first chance he had.

  “Will the town even approve this?” George asked.

  “That’s a good question,” Max said. “I spoke to the mayor yesterday. He said it was your decision. If you agreed to the sale, the plans for the mall would go to a vote with the planning committee.”

  “Does anyone else know?”

  “No, and I think it’s best if we keep it that way,” Max said as his thoughts again drifted to Holly. “The mayor would rather not make this public knowledge as he anticipates a polarizing reaction from the community. If you decide to sell the land to me, I’ll call him and let him know and he will take it from there.”

  George opened his eyes wide as the enormity of the decision he was faced with became a reality.

  “If the planning committee doesn’t approve the mall, I have a clause in the contract that permits Hamilton Properties to rescind the offer,” Max explained.

  George lowered his eyes to read over the papers once more. “I’d like to take some time to talk this over with Lucy.”

  “Of course,” Max said. “But please bear in mind that time is running out. If you agree to sell to me, I will need some time to put the project before the planning committee, and Christmas is only four days away.”

  “I’ll have an answer to you one way or the other as soon as I can,” George assured him. He rose from the armchair and Max held out a hand.

  “Thank you for your time,” Max said. “And if we can keep this from Holly, I’d appreciate it. I know Lucy and she are friends, but I’d rather not have to upset her if there isn’t reason to.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” George said. He handed Max his parka and shoved his hands into his jeans. “You’re sure there would be no way to save the inn? Put the mall behind it maybe?”

  Max shook his head. “Impossible. The blueprints are all drawn up and there simply isn’t room. The inn is located in the middle of the planned parking structure. There’s no other way to allow for enough spaces. I can show you the drawings if you’d like. They’re in my car.”

  George waved his hand dismissively. “No, no. I just thought I’d ask. If you say it won’t work then I trust you.”

  Trust me. Max clenched a fist, feeling suddenly suffocated and claustrophobic. The parka was too heavy to wear inside. The ceilings were too low. The room too stuffy. He needed air. He needed to breathe and clear his head and stop, stop, stop thinking about Holly.

  Holly trusted him, too. And look what he was doing to her right u
nder her nose. He wished he could just tell her, admit the truth, convince her to leave Maple Woods and start building a life for herself, but he didn’t think he could. Yet.

  “I’ll be in touch,” George said as Max trotted down the porch stairs to the driveway, gasping for the cold fresh air.

  Max climbed into his rental car and turned the ignition, desperate to get out of George’s driveway before anyone spotted his New York plates. He realized as he gripped the steering wheel that he was shaking. The magnitude of what he had just done was taking effect. He felt confused, lost and out of control. He hadn’t felt this way in years—he had made it a point to avoid ever having to feel this way again. He lived his life in a self-preserving way. And then...then he had met Holly.

  The offer was made. It was in George Miller’s hands now. And only one thing was certain. There was no going back now.

  Chapter Seven

  By midmorning, the Christmas Market was vibrant and crowded as familiar faces strolled through the town square clutching steaming paper cups of hot chocolate and snacking on roasted chestnuts. It seemed the entire town had made it out that morning, despite the couple feet of snow that had gathered overnight. Holly had snagged the cart just next to Lucy, who had been up all night making fresh pies in preparation for the festivities. The Saturday before Christmas was always the busiest, and Holly expected to sell what was left of her homemade preserves before the market closed for the day, as she did every year. No matter how much time she spent preserving and jarring the blueberries she had harvested, it seemed there was never enough to keep up with the demand. She’d worked long into the night for weeks in preparation for the annual tradition, but she didn’t mind. Keeping busy, she had learned, was a good way to keep from giving in to the loneliness that sometimes crept in late at night, when the guests had turned in and the house grew quiet.

  “Where’s George?” Holly asked, as she pulled some more jars from a box at her feet.

  “He had some bookkeeping to do at the house this morning,” Lucy said. “But I doubt he’ll make it to the market today. Someone has to cover the diner. We can’t leave the staff unsupervised all day.”

  “Guess not.” Holly shivered and turned on her heat lamp. “At least the sun’s out today.”

  “Some big storm,” Lucy said ruefully. “Did all your guests head out early just in case it hit hard?”

  Holly hesitated. “All but one.”

  Lucy slid her a glance from her neighboring stall. “Don’t tell me. That man who came into the diner yesterday. The one who likes my pies.”

  Holly’s face flushed with heat despite the frost in the air. “None other.”

  Lucy let out a long whistle. “Well, looks like Christmas came early for you this year!”

  Holly lowered her eyes but she couldn’t resist a smile. “It’s not like that.”

  “No?” Lucy didn’t look convinced. “Because it sure looked like something to me. Do you like him?”

  What’s not to like? Holly wanted to say. But something in her sinking heart told her there was plenty not to like. She paused to consider the question, knowing it required no thought at all. She did like him. Of course she did. But Max was sadly all wrong for her.

  “He lives in New York,” Holly explained.

  “So?”

  “So, that’s two hours away.” Holly gave her friend a measured stare but Lucy looked unimpressed with her excuse.

  “People move all the time,” Lucy said casually. She pulled an apple crumble pie from a box and placed it on a cake platter.

  “I think he prefers city life,” Holly continued.

  “You grew up in Boston,” Lucy pointed out. “Would you ever consider going back to that kind of life?”

  Holly grimaced. She didn’t even want to think about leaving Maple Woods and she felt agitated by how ahead of herself she was getting. “He doesn’t seem to want the same things I do.”

  Lucy pulled a face. “That’s too bad. He seemed really interested in you to me.”

  Holly’s heart spasmed. “Really?” Her mind raced as she flashed through the sequence of their conversation at the diner yesterday morning. She was itching to ask Lucy for more specifics on her observation.

  Taking notice of Holly’s inner struggle, Lucy’s lips twisted in satisfaction. “Aha! I knew you liked him.”

  “Of course she likes him!” Abby sauntered up to Holly’s cart and handed her a cup of cocoa. Eyes gleaming, she asked, “So how was last night?”

  “What was last night?” Lucy inquired, perking up in interest.

  “Our little Holly had a date,” Abby announced proudly.

  “What?” Lucy squealed. “And you didn’t blurt it out as soon as you saw me? Holly, we have been here for over an hour. When were you going to mention it?”

  Holly blew out a sigh and held Abby’s stare. She hadn’t planned on telling Lucy about her evening, partly because she didn’t want to think about it herself. Recounting the details would only conjure up images of Max’s handsome face so close to hers, his strong, broad arm around her shoulder, that irresistible grin, and those were thoughts she couldn’t afford to have.

  “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” she told Lucy with a shrug.

  “Well, I am making a big deal out of it,” said Abby.

  “I noticed.” Holly picked up her hot chocolate and took a tentative sip to test the temperature.

  “Am I missing something here?” Lucy asked, eyes darting from one woman to the next and back again. “I met that man—Max, right? You should be shouting from the rooftops, my girl! Why aren’t you more excited?”

  Holly’s shoulders slumped and she toyed with the lid of her cup. “I just don’t want to fall for him. He’s leaving in a matter of days, and I don’t think he wants anything more than a fling.”

  Abby peered at her. “What makes you say that?”

  Holly tried to remember Max’s exact words but her thoughts were muddled with a devastating image of his smooth grin and dazzling blue eyes. “He said that he doesn’t have time for much in his life besides work, essentially. It just...it just felt like Brendan all over again.”

  “Holly.” Abby’s voice was stern. “Max is not Brendan. Just because Brendan disappointed you in the end doesn’t mean that Max will, too. They are completely different people and the circumstances are, too. Max deserves a fair shot. It isn’t right to judge him based on your past experiences.”

  Holly’s heart sank as she listened to her friend’s lecture. “No, you’re right. But at the same time, tell me exactly how this would even work? He is a self-diagnosed workaholic. He lives two hours away. He has an aversion to small-town life. And oh, he hates Christmas.”

  Abby and Lucy gasped simultaneously. “He hates Christmas?” Abby hissed.

  Holly nodded her head victoriously, satisfied in a twisted sort of way that she had managed to prove her point to them. Max was all wrong for her. She would be a fool to fall for him.

  Ever the pragmatic one, Lucy clarified, “Does he just not celebrate Christmas, or does he actually hate it?”

  “He hates it!” Holly’s voice was shrill with defense, hoping for any reason to validate why Max was all wrong for her and why she should be allowed to just forget him. She met Lucy’s suspicious gaze and added, “He said it isn’t his thing.”

  “But who hates Christmas?” Abby asked again.

  Holly threw up her hands. “Exactly!” But even as she said it, she couldn’t shake the rest of his words from her thoughts. Christmas brought back bad memories, he’d said. A feeling she knew all too well.

  She would never forget the first Christmas after her parents had died. First the dread leading up to it, then the incessant ache in her heart and finally the relief she had felt the next day, when it was all over. She’d feared ever havin
g to spend another holiday that way—raw with hurt and an overwhelming sense of loss.

  She set her jaw. Well, she never had again. Christmas was a busy and happy time. That’s the way it was meant to be. It was better that way.

  She let out a shaky sigh and began frantically arranging her jam jars in a pyramid, realizing the other two women were watching her carefully. She glanced up at one of the accusers. “What?”

  “Who cares if he hates Christmas,” Lucy said. “A man that looks like that is allowed to hate anything he wants.”

  Abby laughed heartily and took a sip of her cocoa. “Seriously, Holly. You’re just talking yourself out of this with one flimsy excuse after another. It’s okay to like him, you know.”

  “I know,” Holly said halfheartedly, feeling lightheaded over it all. The thought of allowing herself to indulge in these feelings was so far outside her comfort zone she almost couldn’t bear it. She had spent years creating this cozy, safe environment for herself, and now everything felt uncertain again. She didn’t know why, but she had an uneasy sensation that everything was about to fall out from under her. That Max’s arrival had permanently shattered her comfortable, complacent life.

  “You sure you know?” Lucy asked. “Because that face looks like it needs some persuading.”

  Believe me, Holly thought, I don’t need any persuading at all.

  And that was half the problem.

  “What if he goes back to New York next week and I never see him again?” Holly voiced. Saying it out loud felt good, like a weight had been lifted. She was so tired of loving people only to have them leave her one way or another in the end. There was nothing more painful than being left behind. She’d much prefer to be the one leaving first for a change.

  “I’ve got a few years on you, so let me give you a piece of advice, Holly. Anyone who disappears from your life isn’t worth having in it.” Lucy gave her a hard stare from under the hood of her lids.