Just In Time for Christmas

by Kim Boykin

  Candice: Are you sure?

  Miranda: I guarantee it.

  Candice: Good to know.

  Miranda: BTW, where are you from?

  Miranda, left her laptop for a few seconds to take a breakfast casserole out of the oven. She put it on the warming tray on the buffet in the dining room and inspected the table one last time before her guests came down to breakfast. The silver chafing dishes were already filled with grits and an assortment of locally made sausages. The table was set with her great grandmother’s china. Juice. Coffee. Champagne. The camellias she’d cut this morning had made a beautiful centerpiece.

  With everything perfect, she hurried back to her laptop to see Candice had replied with the million-dollar question.

  Candice: Atlanta :) So, what’s the deal with this Pammy girl?

  Miranda: How long do you have? :)

  Candice: All day :)

  Miranda: Yes, well, I have a meeting to get to, but the deal is Pammy HATES me. I bid on Logan to run the bid up. It’s for a very good cause, breast cancer research and assistance to families.

  Candice: I know. Saw the Pinterest page. But why aren’t you bidding on him anymore? Sounds like you really like him.

  Miranda: I can’t afford him :) But, yes, I do like him. He’s SO hot and funny. I like him a lot, but I’d never tell him that. LOL. You’ll like him too.

  Candice: I already do :)

  Miranda: I’ve got to run. Hope you can outbid Pammy.

  Candice: I’m in it to win it :)

  Of course, outbidding Pammy had been the only reason Miranda’s finger had been hovering over the Enter key before she messaged Candice. But with Candice “in it to win it,” Miranda wouldn’t have to run the bid up anymore. Thank God for Candice. She seemed really nice, and Miranda was grateful she’d jumped into the competition.

  Pammy’s name disappeared and the bid jump another fifty bucks, courtesy of Candice. “Go, Candice,” Miranda said, flipping her laptop closed and heading out the door to her meeting.

  *

  Other than seeing Logan at Bottoms Up the other night, she’d managed to avoid him since he pinned her against the wedding planner’s car, and she had been dreading this little showdown. She sat at one end of the long conference table; Logan sat at the other. Pammy was to his right, flirting like she was in heat.

  So far, the meeting hadn’t been too bad, but whenever her gaze happened to stray to Logan, he was looking at her rather seriously. Seriously pissed? Seriously intense? All Miranda knew was she was glad he was on the opposite end of the table as she ran down her checklist.

  “Looks like everything’s on schedule. There are a record number of entries for the Holiday Flotilla. We’re close on outgrowing the City Gardens. If we sell more than another fifty tickets to the cotillion, we will have to move the event to the marina. The good and bad news is that ticket sales have leveled off,” Miranda said, “I’d really love to keep the event at the gardens.”

  “Yes. But the event would be just a beautiful at the marina with the boats all lit up,” the mayor added.

  “Agreed,” Miranda looked at her checklist that was almost complete. “The music’s in place. Thank you, Logan.” He nodded, no smile. “Bootie Call,” she said, and everyone laughed but him, “will be a great addition to the cotillion.” Still no smile.

  “And, thanks to the women of Magnolia Bay doing their part,” Pammy bragged, “the bachelor auction total is already over three thousand dollars. I expect it to go much higher when the bidding starts at the cotillion. Much higher,” she said, looking at Miranda. Yeah, Pammy had priced her out of the market, and she could have Logan. From here on out Miranda was going to refocus on what this event was truly about—ushering the Christmas season into Magnolia Bay and helping breast cancer patients and their families.

  Her phone was on silent when she saw the notice on the screen. She looked up to see Pammy laying her phone on the table in front of her with a wicked smile on her face, daring anyone to one up her latest bid. Miranda glanced down at her own phone. Jesus. Six hundred dollars? These women were nuts.

  “It looks like the auction was a really good idea. Thank you, Pammy.” It killed Miranda to admit that almost as much as it killed her to smile at the predator. “Looks like we’re done and everything is lining up for a spectacular weekend; as chairman,” she looked at Logan. “Co-chair, I’d like to thank all of you for all of your hard work. If you need to reach me today, call me on my cell. I’ll be supervising the fire department as they assemble and decorate the tree.”

  “No fair, Miranda, you do all the fun stuff,” Jamie whined. “You get to watch hot firemen all day. Not to mention that Logan had you out a couple of weeks ago at Booty Call.”

  “Really?” Pammy glared at her.

  “I’d never heard the band before,” Miranda smiled, “so Logan offered to take me.”

  “I’ll just bet he did,” Pammy said, and everyone snickered.

  Logan’s look said he wasn’t about to come to Miranda’s rescue. “To hear the band, I mean. He took me to hear the band. Really, it was all business,” she stammered.

  “Of course it was, dear,” the mayor said. Was she placating Miranda?

  “I’d like to get a little of that business,” Janet said. “Or at the very least—.”

  “Jesus, Janet, I’m right here,” Logan groused.

  “All of you are more than welcome to watch Magnolia Bays finest put the tree up and make it beautiful,” Miranda said. “The more the merrier.”

  *

  Miranda stayed hoping everyone, especially Logan, would exit the conference room, but no such luck. When it looked like it was just going to just be the two of them, Miranda grabbed her purse hurried toward the door.

  Before she could get there, he closed the door. When she turned around to protest, he caged her in, his hands on either side of her head.

  “Logan. What are you doing?” she breathed. Heart beating out of her chest.

  “A better question is, what are you doing, Miranda?”

  “Get out of my way. I want to leave.”

  “I don’t think you know what you want.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I like you, Miranda. I always have, I’d bet everything I own that you feel the same way about me.”

  “Well, aren’t you full of yourself,” she bit out. “And stupid. Because you’d lose.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “So what did you think, Logan? You’d kiss me a few times and I’ll fall at your feet and worship you like half the woman in the Lowcountry?”

  “I don’t know what to think. I asked you out; you said no. I got that. I didn’t understand it, but I got it. Then you’re with that guy, playing pool, and—”

  So his brothers had acted like little girls and told him about her and John. Good. But what did they tell him? Did they see the hesitation she felt with John? Is that what this is about?

  “Don’t believe everything you hear, Logan,” she shot back.

  “I didn’t hear anything. I came back. I watched you,” he bit out. Had he really? Or was he just going off of what his brothers had told him? “When he won and wanted you to kiss you, you didn’t let him.”

  “You know what? You suck at rejection, Logan Mauldin. Now move.”

  “Rejection, I can handle, but you confuse the hell out of me. You say you don’t want to go out with me, then you turn around and bid on a date with me. What’s that about?”

  “Well, I’m not bidding anymore.”

  “I’m guessing it was before you went to bed, but you bid again last night.”

  “If you must know—” Hell yes, he wanted to know. But what would she tell him? She didn’t even know why she bid on him last night. But Candice had stepped in and all but promised to win; Miranda was done bidding on Logan. She was done with him. “I was running up the bid because I knew Pammy would spend her last nickel to beat me. And that’s the truth.”

  “The t
ruth is you’re afraid of me.”

  “I am not.”

  “You’re scared.”

  “I’m not scared of you, Logan Mauldin. I’m not afraid of anything.” And if she was Pinocchio, her nose would have impaled him with that statement. As bold and as sassy as she’d always been, the very idea that she might indeed be falling for Logan Mauldin was terrifying. “Besides, you have Pammy and Candice and God only knows who else.”

  “If you’re not afraid of me, then prove it. Go to the cotillion with me.”

  “No.”

  “Do you have a date?”

  “No.” And why hadn’t she asked John to go with her? He was good looking, a nice guy. Great kisser.

  “Then go with me.”

  “No, I will not.”

  “You’re chicken,” Logan grinned. “You. Are. Chicken.”

  “You really are eight, aren’t you?”

  There was a long stare down until he smirked triumphantly and opened the door.

  “All right,” she shouted. As shocked as he seemed to be that she’d blurted out the words. “I’ll go.”

  Chapter Eleven

  ‡

  Most people think you need snow and cold weather to bring in the Yuletide. But on this unseasonably hot Lowcountry day, many of the women of Magnolia Bay were siting on hot metal bleachers, happily watching volunteers, mostly from the fire and the police departments, decorate the city’s massive Christmas tree.

  “We have Jake, bending over. A little further. A little further,” Janet said in a voice that could have passed for a golf commentator’s. Then there was the money shot, his t-shirt riding up above the lower part of Jake Jenson’s well muscled back, the dimples. “Just little lower. A little lower.” When the tops of his very fine ass came into view, a cheer went up from the all-girl gallery, Jake, looked their way and grinned.

  “Jake’s so yummy,” someone behind Miranda breathed.

  “So yummy,” Shelby echoed. “They all are. I’d like one of those for Christmas.”

  “Yes. Please,” Hallie Ford giggled.

  “Hey, Miranda, you wanna add to the donations next year?” Hannah had closed her shop to watch the show. “Sell tickets to this.”

  “Make ’em shirtless,” one of the housewives from Magnolia Run crowed.

  “Naked,” another one giggled.

  “Y’all are terrible,” Miranda laughed, but she had to admit, it was kind of fun watching a dozen hot guys hang ornaments.

  The crowd went nuts, when a couple of the firemen took their shirts off. It was either hotter, harder work than Miranda thought, or they were enjoying putting on a show.

  When Logan sauntered up and joined the sexy worker bees, the gallery erupted again. He ignored the gallery and shook hands with the guys. He picked up one of the giant gold seashell ornaments, shinnied up the ladder, and wired it onto the tree. He came back down the ladder to applause and grabbed another ornament. Two other guys took their shirts off.

  “Hey Logan, take it off,” Janet shouted, and the other women started hooting and hollering.

  Why did that bother Miranda so very much, and why was she relieved when he remained fully clothed? The guys finally took a break and sat down for drinks and sandwiches the mayor had sent over courtesy of The Upper Crust, the best little sandwich shop in town. They were talking, checking their phones, without putting their shirts back on.

  “I’m such a bad person,” Hannah confessed to Miranda as she snapped a picture of the guys. “I’m going to the cotillion with Bo, but I bid on Jake. And I’m winning right now.”

  “Oh, sweetie, that doesn’t make you a bad person,” Miranda said. “You’ve had a thing for him since, what? High School?”

  “Since we’re going that far back, I noticed you’ve bid on Logan. He’s always been into you.”

  “He has not,” Miranda snapped.

  “I’m not saying it’s not a bad thing, Miranda. He’s so damn hot. And you’ve bid a lot of money for him; you must really want him,” Hannah said.

  “I have bid. A lot of money. But it was all a strategy to get Pammy Anderson to part with her money. Besides, it was for charity.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “That’s the truth. But I quit. Totally. Now there’s some girl named Candice Taylor bidding against Pammy. Mission accomplished, so I dropped out.”

  “A strategy, huh?” Hannah would look really funny if her eyebrows stuck like that. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Yes. Strategy. And I’ll prove it.” She pulled out her phone and tapped the bachelor auction app on the screen. She clicked the Cat Fight message box. Hannah, scooted over to see the screen as Miranda scrolled through the conversations.

  “All right, but what are you going to do if this Candice girl wins?”

  Miranda didn’t have an answer for that.

  *

  The historic city streets were filled with people from all over the Lowcountry who’d come for the annual Christmas tree lighting in the center of town where the Francis Marion Highway connected with Bayshore Boulevard and bisected Main Street. Businesses were buzzing in anticipation of a big night.

  A children’s stage was set up at the corner of Main and Sandy Run Court. Several local kid performers along with choirs from the schools and local churches were on the docket to perform traditional Christmas carols. And another stage was set up at the opposite end of Main for local country and rock bands. In between the two stages booths lined the streets, selling everything from t-shirts and traditional seashell ornaments to boiled peanuts to divinity candy.

  And just to prove Logan Mauldin wrong, John Jackson was Miranda’s date. Yes. That’s right. Date. And she was having fun. Damn it.

  She didn’t want to be rude and check the auction app on her phone in front of him, so when John walked off to take a call from a client, Miranda checked to see that Pammy was ahead in the bidding. She glanced up to see John still talking and then messaged Candice.

  Miranda: Just checking in to see how my favorite bidder is :)

  Candice: Good. Just busy. Am I behind? I haven’t checked.

  Miranda: Yes. You don’t have to bid, but how often do you get to have a date with the hottest guy on the planet AND help find a cure for cancer?

  Candice: Hottest guy on the planet? LOL What are you up to tonight?

  Miranda: I’m on a date with a hot guy :)

  Candice: Hotter than Logan?

  Miranda: No such thing :) Hot Guy’s coming back. Gotta run. Later.

  John rejoined her and apologized for the interruption. As the sun went down, the mayor’s husband blew on a conch shell, saluting the sunset and summoning the crowd to the docks for the boat parade. Miranda and John followed the crowd as they moved toward Mariner’s Park where spectators sat on the grass and watched the boats arrive at the marina one by one. They were clumped in groups to see the show, thanks to the mansions that attempted to obstruct the view of the bay. Others were on the docks to get a better view of the spectacle that was kind of a mix of Christmas light covered boats and an inordinate number of hot costumed pirates invading the fair city of Magnolia Bay and ushering in Christmas. A sort of fun reenactment of what might have happened nearly three hundred years ago when Magnolia Bay really was a haven for pirates.

  The lighted flotilla in the harbor was breathtaking. The crowd cheered and horns sounded in celebration of the coming invasion. Second to sitting on Santa’s lap, the flotilla and tree lighting had always been her favorite Christmas tradition. Miranda and her parents never missed it, not once.

  When she was little, seeing a hundred or so pirates invading the city for their king had been exciting, but a little scary. Her daddy would get her and her mom as close to the docks as he could and then put Miranda on his shoulders to see the show. She always felt like she was on top of the world. Safe. Brave. And when the queen joined the Pirate King, there wasn’t a time when she didn’t want to be that girl. Even now.

  But this year, she hung back across the s
treet beside the stand with the hot benne wafers. Not as far away from the docks as possible, but, knowing Logan was on one of those boats, far enough.

  “Let’s get closer,” John said, pulling her across Bayshore Boulevard toward the marina. She should have protested, asked for more cookies or another helping of shrimp and grits, but she didn’t. Somehow he wove them through hundreds of festivalgoers to the very end of the pier. He had his arms wrapped around her, as they watched the boats dock. “So,” he said, over the crowd noise, “is there a method to the madness?”

  She nodded and pointed to the big sailboat gliding up to the dock. “The pirates arrive take over the city for Christmas. See that big Spanish galleon?” He nodded and kissed the top of her head. “That’s the Pirate King’s ship. He’s the one who brings Christmas to Magnolia Bay.”

  The crowd cheered as a large catamaran draped in colorful lights deposited her swashbucklers onto the dock. They made quite a show, fighting the other pirates with their plastic swords, and then jogged down the dock to make room for the next boatload of rogues.

  “So Magnolia Bay doesn’t do Jesus, Mary and Joseph? No Santa?”

  “The festival isn’t about taking Christ out of Christmas, John. It’s just a fun way to honor our town’s history and light the town Christmas tree.”

  “Not very Christmassy,” he teased.

  “We have Christmas galore; don’t you worry. In a few days, the Methodist church will have their live nativity scene up. The Baptist church has a wonderful cantata that runs for a week and is always sold out. And the Catholic Church hosts the Charleston Symphony Orchestra for Handel’s Messiah. And the Episcopal church—”

  “All right, I get it, and I get pirates at Halloween, but at Christmas?”

  “You make it sound like we’re heathens.”

  “You’re defensive,” he smiled, his body pressed against hers. They’d stood next to the benne wafer stand for so long, he actually smelled sweet and delicious.

  “Don’t mess with my town, John.”

  “Okay. Okay. So, exactly how does the Pirate King bring Christmas to the city?” John asked, holding her a little tighter.