For now, business called—and so did an uncertain but enticing future. A future full of opportunity and forward progress. But what about the newly discovered terrain of reuniting with Dustin? What did that mean, exactly?
After Maxine stored her purse and brewed a quick cup of coffee, she returned to the front of the store, fragrant brew in hand. In contrast to her outward show of bohemia, Maxine was beautifully old-school in some ways—her cup and saucer were antiques, a Rosenthal pattern with tiny pink roses and china so fine and milky white it bordered on translucent. “Let’s shut down the shop for a few minutes. We don’t have any appointments, and there’s never much of a rush for the first hour or so.”
“Good idea. I really want to focus.”
Lillianna flipped the wooden sign that dangled from the front door to ‘closed’ and turned the door lock. Rather than adjourning to the formal office space, they tucked onto one of the couches that served as seating space for shoppers who needed to take a break. Lillianna reached for a nearby decorator pillow and squeezed it tight, turning to face her friend.
But Maxine could read the physical cues. She reached out, resting her hand on top of Lillianna’s. “You’re not behind the business proposition from Kilgore.”
Lillianna toyed with the large, centered button of the pillow. “Oh, Max. It’s not that I’m not behind it. It’s exciting. It would be an incredible boon to what we’ve worked so hard to make here at Purple Door. But I’m intimidated. I’m anxious. So much change. So many elements over which we’d have no input.”
“That’s true, love. But remember this. They’re interested in franchising because they like what we do. We’re giving them a winning formula in the way we run our business, the goods we offer, and the new artists we help to promote. Imagine that kind of impact across the south, or the Midwest, or even all of North America. How many artists would find an outlet for their talents? How many people would benefit? It’s staggering, really. Beyond anything I ever imagined when we opened our doors.”
True. This wasn’t just about her, or Maxine, this was about a future for so many people. She pursed her lips, running absent strokes against soft, yellow microfiber. At last, she set the pillow aside and smiled at her business partner and mentor. “You want to do it.”
“I do, but—” Maxine leaned forward, uncurling her legs from beneath her so she could lean forward in emphasis. “I’ll stay right where we are, happy as can be, if this isn’t what you want.”
“You deserve a fruitful retirement, Max, as well as the knowledge that you’ve helped established artists not just here in Hope Creek and Tennessee, but across the entire nation. You’re right. It’s mind-blowing. Beautiful. I can’t live my life in fear.”
Lillianna shook her head. How could she properly explain herself?
“And I know you mean that, sweetheart. Why is there hesitance in your voice?”
Lillianna breathed out, trying desperately to come to terms. Lydia was right. This wasn’t the time to run, or hide, from her professional life or the call of her heart.
So, while she formed words, Dustin’s image came alive in her spirit.
“I guess I can’t quite shake the voices from my past that told me to look elsewhere for a career. That my work certainly had appeal, but that it could never be counted on for steady provision. For fulfillment. And, yeah, success.”
Maxine frowned. Lillianna could have sworn she heard the quiet build of a low-lying chest growl. “You are a success. A success with a great head for business and the soul of a creationist.” Maxine reached out and squeezed Lillianna’s hands. “What a beautiful combination. Embrace both sides of that equation. Let’s do this. Let’s arrange a meeting and give Dustin the go-ahead. And when we do, let’s remember that until we sign on the bottom line, we’re free to step away. If we don’t like the way things develop, we walk.”
Room to move. The realization gave Lillianna a measure of comfort, but if she stepped away, it would hurt Dustin. Coming to know him like she did now, that was something she couldn’t bear to consider…
Chapter 7
A LATE AFTERNOON MEETING WITH Lillianna and Maxine sealed Dustin’s assignment. In broad-stroke terms, the deal to franchise Purple Door was accomplished. Normally, he would have rejoiced, and there was no reason why he shouldn’t be relishing the fruits of a job well done this time around.
Except for the purity of this eclectic, enchanting boutique.
For a time, while he waited for Lillianna to wrap up business for the day and join him for coffee and perhaps a short stroll around the snow-carpeted grounds of Christmas Inn, Dustin watched the comings and goings, the interactions and commerce, if you could refer to it as such.
That’s where that sense of purity entered in.
In answer to that call, Dustin left the couch and allowed himself the pleasure of a wander. Purple Door changed like waves on a shoreline, stationary at its core, but full of fresh objects and beauty on an almost daily basis. The vibration of this place struck a chord because Purple Door wasn’t simply a store. Delicate, hand-painted porcelain in soft blues and vivid reds captured his eye—plates, cups, saucers, serving bowls. The pieces shimmered beneath subdued track lighting. This was a gathering spot. A place for gossip. A place for catching up, for sharing lives and circumstances. The realization amazed him, stirred questions about the type of strident, hyper-focused New Yorker he had allowed himself to become—always pushing fast and hard toward something greater.
Should a place like this be given over to the greater world, or should mom-and-pop shops remain as such, populating small towns and hamlets with unique character that struck deep and grew thick, lasting roots? Would franchising really benefit Maxine…and Lillianna?
Dustin realized he stood near the edge of the design space at the rear of the shop. He caught sight of the angel plaque at Lillianna’s work station and his ambling came to an abrupt stop.
Tubes of paint rested near sprayable varnish—all of which she had used to finish the piece. Small pieces of sandpaper rested next to a neat line of wood burning tips. Carbon debris dotted a nearby paper towel. He had read, when googling the topic of wood burning, that sanding carbon from the wood tips was necessary to ensure smooth, clean lines. Judging by the pristine condition of her burning tips, she followed that protocol with care.
Not that he had been stalking her trade or anything…
On impulse, drawn to the image, Dustin reached for the piece, but withdrew his hand just as fast. He didn’t want to disturb her work, her workspace, in any way. Reverence, respect, filled his spirit with an unfamiliar warmth, intensity furrowing his brow as his gaze moved along the fluid lines of the female angel’s flowing robes, the wide-spread wings. A look of joy had been captured with such skill and emotion that Dustin couldn’t help but smile, his pulse escalating.
Stars of gold dotted a blue sky, along with clouds of softest white. Rolling green lands stretched beneath her soaring feet. Pine trees had been etched to life as well, so reminiscent of the grounds at Christmas Inn…
Lillianna had obviously designed this as a high-end piece, glossy and intricate, right down to the small eye-screws secured to each side of the plaque which held a small link chain of silver in place for hanging.
He leaned closer, noticing a small scripted word at the bottom of the rendering, curving along the hem of the angel’s robe. Gabriella.
What a perfect name for this elated, playful angel.
“Do you like her?”
Dustin turned on a jerk, face-to-face with the artist herself. And the only words that came to him were a plea. “Don’t sell her, Lillianna. Please.”
She blinked, reared back slightly.
“I mean…can I make an offer…or, is she spoken for, or is it for the shop…?”
But then, like sunlight at daybreak, her smile spread wide and she rested a hand on his arm. “I’m not selling her, Dustin. Not yet, anyway. I suppose you could say her future is uncertain.”
The light tease of her tone didn’t rest well. Rather, in an overwhelming instant, he had turned somewhat manic, transformed from an articulate, confident business man into a stuttering and nervous shadow of himself. Tongue tied in the presence of a lovely woman who personified the innocent bliss of not only the creation he craved, but of sharing her gifts and talents as well.
Recognitions left him cursing his younger self, wondering: Why hadn’t he seen her more clearly those long years ago? This woman wasn’t just smart and beautiful, she was intoxicating.
“Can we get out of here for a bit? I have something I need to tell you.”
“I think about my great-grandma, and how inspirations just like the one you experienced with the creation of Gabriella must have patterned her life.”
Seated across from Dustin at a quaint, metal bistro table, Lillianna still recovered from shock. They had tucked into space toward the rear of Jannie’s Coffee Station, where the whir and grind of coffee machines filled time while she assimilated. A pair of freshly served lattes rested between them, perfuming the air with the subtle aromas of cinnamon and peppermint.
She had known Dustin was a distant relation of the Christmas family, but had she known he carried the DNA of Eloisa Christmas? The woman who had crafted exemplary pieces of hand-painted china found at antique shops throughout Hope Creek, and above the welcome space of Christmas Inn? No. She was struck speechless as well. Eloisa’s claim to fame had been keen business intellect paired with a deep and giving heart.
“Dustin, I love that creche. Always have.”
“Lillianna, do you believe in angels?” He gave a troubled sigh, sidestepping the comment.
“After your reaction to Gabriella, do you even need to ask?” Her attempt at humor fell short, which set her thoroughly off balance. “Dustin, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“It’s not that anything’s wrong. It’s that I’m struggling. I’m struggling to understand what I’m feeling right now, and what I’m striving so hard to accomplish. I wish I could experience your kind of fulfillment.”
Stunned, Lillianna couldn’t readily compose an answer to his dilemma. But maybe she wasn’t meant to. Maybe she was simply meant to be present, to listen to him, to understand.
Dustin fingered the handle of his coffee mug then took a generous sip before continuing. “Two or three times, when I crossed through the lobby of Christmas Inn, I’ve been brought to an absolute stop by gusts of air, by bell sounds, and my senses going on some weird type of full alert. Then, I discovered my connection to the manger that’s central to the décor of the lobby.” He blew out through pursed lips. “It’s exasperating. I mean, I know my faith is based on the evidence of things unseen, but this isn’t something I can understand, or readily accept. It’s like I’m being chased toward something. Or pushed.”
“Divine inspiration is okay, Dustin. Accept it, but realize you don’t have to force yourself into something you’re not comfortable—”
“Lillianna, don’t let this business opportunity define you.” He stepped over her attempt at assurance and regarded her with a level of intensity that worked through her and stole her breath. “No matter what happens next, your talent belongs to you and it fulfills you. Don’t surrender that joy you talked to me about when I first arrived back home. If you do, you might end up being successful from a world view, but empty on the inside, where life counts the most.”
His use of the word home filled her with promise, with the kind of hopeful bliss displayed by Gabriella…
“But this isn’t just about me, Dustin. It’s about Maxine and artists like Paige Miller. And it sounds to me like the emptiness you speak of comes from first-hand experience. This is opportunity, not just for Hope Creek, but for artists across the southland, and maybe even more.”
“This isn’t about me, either. It’s about business, and for some reason, regarding my life in terms of straight-up business is leaving me dry.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Dustin. This opportunity is about you, too. It’s about your skills and gifts as much as it is about mine, or Maxine’s.” Never had she imagined standing toe-to-toe against the charismatic, powerful Dustin Farrell of her youth and issuing an outright challenge. “If you feel dry, then I’m begging you, please, to make a change. Being dry isn’t worthy of the person I’ve known, and admired, for so long. Engage in something that fills you, and the emptiness you’re struggling with.”
He turned away abruptly, not in anger, she realized at once, but in a show of defeat that ripped a corner of her heart. “What would that kind of change even be? I don’t even know where I’d start.”
She leaned close, tentative now, but relentless, even though she wasn’t at all sure what to say or expect. God, she prayed in hasty fervor, take this, please, and run with it.
Resting her hand on his arm, she hoped the reassuring caress might give him comfort. “What’s your dream, Dustin? Find it. Pursue it. Don’t let it go. What’s your dream?”
They finished their coffee and he reached for her coat, holding it open so she could slip her arms inside. “Let’s go to the Inn. Take a walk in the fresh air for a few minutes. You game?”
“You bet. I’d love it.”
A short time later they walked side-by-side with the stately old Inn as their backdrop and acres of trees whispering in welcome. At the start of their walk, Dustin clasped her hand and settled it against his arm. Lillianna held on fast for the sake of both steadiness and connection. Shared body warmth was an added plus…
She glanced up, savoring the chill, the icy swirl. Towering pines rimmed their path, lending a primitive peace to the hushed atmosphere. Sunset kissed a few low-lying clouds with shimmering hues of pink, orange and yellow that burned bright against the contrast of dark green trees, burnishing their tips in hues of gold and sparkling off the crest of a fresh snow dusting.
A perfect, sacred world, she thought, and she was grateful to the core.
Dustin continued their conversation. “I can’t help but marvel at how confident you and Maxine are about taking this on.”
Lillianna shrugged, though the gesture was hidden by the rolls of her goose-down parka. “Why shouldn’t we be? We trust you, and your judgment. Maxine had our attorney look over the terms and conditions, and the offer isn’t just valid and straightforward, it’s beneficial to everyone involved.” Including Dustin, she couldn’t help thinking. “It’s a classic win-win situation.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.” Dustin cleared his throat. “Maxine, too, of course.”
Lillianna gave his forearm a squeeze and bumped her shoulder against his. “Of course.” A pause moved between them in time to the caw and whoosh of bird wings as a mama and papa cardinal zipped past, perching in dainty perfection on the branches of a nearby tree. Probably hunkering down for the night, she thought, admiring the image. “Want to know what I think? Deep down inside?”
“More than anything.”
The emphasis, the sincerity of his tone, captured her attention and held it firm. Their gazes held for a pair of strong heartbeats. “Okay. Here it is. What you offer, what your investors represent, excites me because it calls to a part of my heart I never fully acknowledged before. The quest to succeed. The desire to reach, and touch, and thereby grow.”
Surprisingly, he frowned. “I could write a thesis on those topics, Lillianna. After a lifetime of research, I can assure you, the only thing waiting for you at the end of that road is emptiness unless you remain true to the call you’ve always had, the call you’ve always followed. What I think, deep down inside, is this: Always pay attention to the way God has called you to create and share. The rest takes care of itself.”
She looked at him with a happy smile, nodded. “Exactly. That’s what’s happening, Dustin. Right here, right now. God’s taking the helm and we’re following that lead.”
This was new to her, the confidence, the surety of spirit and purpose. And Dustin had much to do with that development. God had brought th
em together again for this very reason…and…
“Lillianna.”
He whispered her name, reverent. Like a prayer, full of wonder. How could crisp, cold winter air be filled with such fluid heat, and longing? The heat in his eyes stirred shy nerves and her intrinsic reserve all over again.
“You always call me Lillianna. Mom and Dad and Lydia always called me Lil. Maxine calls me Lilly because she’s an adorable cornball who says I’m like a flower.” She babbled, not that Dustin seemed to mind. He looked at her steadily, studying her, and then he tucked errant wisps of hair beneath the line of her woolen cap and smiled into her eyes.
“I’d never shorten your name. It’s beautiful.”
Awareness, lush and enticing, became punctuated by sprinkles of snow, blown against her cheeks, her eyes, her lips, by a soft breeze that chattered through barren tree limbs and caused tree branches to shift and sing.
“I should have paid closer attention to you back in the day. I should have taken you to heart and helped you to know what a treasure you are. But look what’s happened in our time apart. You’ve transformed into a beautiful, confident, passionate woman who’s pursuing her calling. Talk about role reversal.”
She touched his cheek, wishing her gloves didn’t buffer the sensation of skating her fingertips against his skin. “Not at all. Dustin, you’re amazing.”
Instinctively Lillianna fought that tummy pull, that swirl of attraction. She didn’t want to fall into the sweep of his charms. She didn’t want to let him in—and then be crushed.
But why was she so afraid? Here they stood, at the center of a precious snow globe, the world drifting past on a pair of the most beautiful wings…
That’s when she knew it for sure. She was too late to be saved from the fall. Love had already run its circuit, acting as a connecting rod she could no longer deny. So, she absorbed it all, the building fall of flakes, the strands of her hair that still blew free, capturing delicate ice crystals and curling in a soft breeze.
Like the motion of angels swirling past…prompting…
Love at Christmas Inn Collection 2 Page 21
