Christmas Clash

by Dana Volney

  He studied her round, almost heart-shaped face. Blaming her would be easy, but the full truth wasn’t that simple. Their street block had been on the list before Candace had purchased the building next door.

  “I’m not mad,” he finally said, settling his gaze on eyes that shone like a clear blue day with no clouds in sight.

  “You’re not?”

  Her expression perked up.

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “Jeffrey Dean’s being a dick.”

  “Be that as it may, he’s chosen this hill to die on and he’s got the upper hand.” She swayed slightly in her chair. “Unfortunately.”

  He watched her closely. How many drinks is this for her?

  “So, checking out my clothes, huh?” Candace looked straight at him and a glimmer of pleasure played on her lips.

  Dammit. Thought we got past that stupid comment.

  “What? I’m not blind. A man can’t be observant?”

  “Uh-huh.” She found the straw with her lips and drank.

  Suddenly, the pub was 100 degrees and he felt his quickened pulse beat in his neck. “I only noticed because the image of you trying to take us all down is seared into my memory.”

  “Luke.”

  The voice from his past broke the moment. His gut seized. Why did James Brand—an unpleasant reminder of his college days—pick this moment to walk back into his life?

  • • •

  Candace turned toward the stranger who stood uncomfortably close to her as she clutched her yummy ginger drink. She could drink a Moscow Mule all day, every day. The alcohol content didn’t hurt either. She’d watched Luke’s very capable hands make the drink and knew there wasn’t more than half a shot in each glass, but it was already starting to warm her. When was the last time I ate? She probably needed to slow down her intake, but she’d been nervous and was now having a good time with Luke. Surprisingly.

  “Hey, there, Luke. Long time no see.” The guy invading her bubble offered him a handshake. “I hoped I’d find you here.”

  Luke’s jaw clenched and the spark in his eyes turned sour. “James.” He made no effort to grasp the outstretched hand. “What do you want?”

  Without missing a beat James put his hand in his Dockers pocket and shot her a perfect, pearly white smile. “Thought we’d catch up.”

  “We have nothing to discuss.”

  The stranger met her gaze and she swallowed hard. He had glorious light blue eyes that she wanted to put her face right next to and stare at.

  “I’m James Brand.” His hand exited his pocket.

  “Candace.” She put her hand in his and tried not to forget how to shake.

  “What is a beautiful thing like you sitting here talking to this dope?”

  Her rose-colored glasses shattered. “Thing?”

  “Um. Lady?”

  “Uh-huh.” She switched her attention to Luke.

  Admittedly, she was more sensitive to words like “thing” in place of “woman” than most thanks to the business world she’d been exposed to from a young age. The good ol’ boys club was alive and well in that world, and they didn’t always want to do business with a female. She’d learned how to deal with the archaic attitude and even use it to her advantage most times—as much as she could stomach, anyway. Sometimes the flirting or playing dumb wasn’t worth it; other times it paid off.

  “I’ll have a beer,” James told Luke.

  “Just ran out.”

  Ouch. What could this man have done to be so hated? Her interest piqued.

  “Still having trouble with planning, huh?” James asked with a devilish smile printed on his perfect face.

  “Screw you, Brand. What the hell are you doing in my pub?”

  James stuck both hands into his pockets this time and rocked back on his heels. “I wanted you to hear from me that my firm is handling the convention center design and build.”

  It took some balls to come in and tell someone who hated you that you’re working on the project that will destroy his family’s legacy. Still, Candace was conflicted between James’s chiseled features and his iffy personality. Maybe the issue was more on Luke’s end. He had been known to irritate people into challenging him. She had certainly experienced that firsthand.

  “I didn’t pick the locations,” James continued. “I also wanted you to know that. I’m only the plans man. And the construction man. Well, basically I’m responsible for everything after the location is chosen.”

  This guy had his hands in a whole hell of a lot of the things she and Luke were sitting at the bar planning to attack. Maybe someone like James wouldn’t be so bad to speak with a little more.

  “So you don’t have any plans drawn up, then?” Luke asked.

  “Of course I do.”

  “How many sets?”

  James cleared his throat but didn’t answer.

  “I thought so.” Luke stared hard at his foe.

  A sinking feeling took her entire body down a notch.

  “Very well.” James faced her again. “Nice to meet you, Ms. …”

  “Candace.” She feigned a smile. She didn’t feel like bringing her last name into the conversation. She did, however, feel like giving James enough flirty eye contact before he left to show interest. There was no need to give him an icy shoulder—especially when his knowledge might come in handy.

  His eyes twinkled back at her. “Candace,” he said her name carefully. James didn’t so much as glance at Luke before walking away. The man has swagger. Candace tried not to be obvious about admiring the view.

  “So, what did all that mean?” She turned back to Luke in time to see him finish off his beer.

  His glass hit the dark wood bar hard and she jumped. He poured himself another. She might not know Luke’s hopes and dreams, but an idiot could see he wasn’t very happy with James.

  “You two deserve each other.”

  “Excuse me?” Candace sat up a little straighter.

  “It figures you’d have the hots for a man like that. And I’m using the term man loosely because he’s no gentleman. He’s the sleep-with-your-girlfriend-behind-your-back type.”

  “I see.” What a tough blow. Guess this one’s on James. Luke might be irritating, but he was loyal.

  “I’m sure you two will get along just fine, and I won’t be surprised when one of you sells the other out.”

  Luke clearly couldn’t be reasoned with over James and she didn’t care who Luke thought she saw as attractive. Right now, all she cared about was her shop and the six others at risk. “How about we get back to business? That cryptic conversation, what did it mean?”

  “It means that the council only hired his firm to draw up one plan and not multiple plans for different locations. The build would change per location. And they were so sure of their chosen location, they didn’t wait until after the final vote. In other words, we’re screwed.”

  Luke steamed. His jaw jumped and his cheekbones seemed more defined. It was almost adorable.

  “What do you do for fun?” She knew she should focus and talk about what had just transpired, but right now she really wanted to know what he did to relax.

  “What?” Luke’s eyebrows almost touched in the middle.

  “Fun. What do you do?” The alcohol was taking over her thoughts and her words.

  “What in the world?”

  She shrugged. “Just wondering.”

  “Can you focus, please?” He downed most of his new beer.

  This was her focusing. Spending too much time on one topic hindered her creative juices. Luke was the new topic she wanted to discuss. Maybe the timing sucked—but did he read, go to movies, cook, garden, feng shui?

  “Right. Yes. So. James Brand. Screwing us over,” she summarized.

  “Exactly. Rat bast—”

  “What’s the deal with him, anyway?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Back to what we were talking about.” He looked to the ceiling of the bar. “Where were we?”

  “Media
.”

  She lied and they both knew it. The air around them had deflated with James’s invasion. Flirting while drinking made words shinier than reality and led to some stupid decision making. A mistake she didn’t intend to make.

  “You take the paper and I’ll hit up radio and TV. Do you want to start on social media?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I can create a Facebook page. We need to plan the event first. We should think of a name to call our street block, use it for the name of the Facebook page, and then we can give customers updates.”

  The anger that had invaded Luke’s eyes slowly disappeared as she rattled off her ideas.

  “Nice.”

  “Then, when we win, we can still use the page for promotion.” She sighed as she mentally processed and prioritized the work ahead. “I like what we’ve come up with tonight.”

  He looked straight at her.

  A deep connection sparked and her breath caught.

  “Me, too,” he said.

  A wave of heat washed over her cheeks and reached her ankles. Surely it had nothing to do with his intense gaze—she just liked a good attack plan. Her cold, empty orange cup caught her attention. Alcohol. The sweet liquid had caused the influx of want. What on earth would she do if she had the hots for Luke Carrigan? Die. She would just die.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  This is the brightest sun in the history of suns.

  The morning after drinking sucked. Candace wanted to wear her sunglasses all day. She parked her red Camry in the back parking lot and sloshed through snow melting under the warm morning light on her way to the back door of Kiss from a Rose. Why did I have to get liquored up the night before I need to rally the troops?

  She was paying the price for going over her two-drink rule. The alcohol intake had hit her hard due to her lack of food yesterday, and between stress and not sleeping she was worse for the wear. Sometimes her fun impulse got the better of her.

  The flower shop was supposed to be her future. It would be her future—one she would control. She didn’t have the problems with her family that her big brother did. He shouldered most of the burden so that she was able to find her own way, and now that she’d completed college and worked for some Ellison-owned businesses, she would live her life.

  As long as the jerk, Dean, didn’t take it away from her.

  “Hey, Sophie.” Candace put her bag on the island in the back room. She sat on the wooden stool and slouched, putting pressure on her temples.

  “Rough night?”

  “You could say that.”

  “So the council meeting didn’t go well, huh?”

  “You could say that, too.”

  Sophie shook her head as she wrapped a rose corsage with green waxy paper. Blake was hosting his annual dance at his ranch and had asked her to make festive flower decorations for the barn and the main house. Candace was going to try to make the party, but she hadn’t made any promises.

  “So that’s it, then? We’re moving? When?” Sophie asked.

  “Nothing’s official, but my five minutes didn’t go over well. I left after I spoke. Right after I shoved a substantial foot in my mouth, of course. Who knows what happened after?”

  Candace wanted to believe she’d done the right thing last night, but this morning she wasn’t so sure. She should have played it differently. Her life needed a rewind button. She’d use it for the four drinks she’d had last night as well. Luke had fumed and she’d drank and they’d both tried to make themselves feel better about their current shared life problem.

  Sophie chuckled. “There’s my Ace.”

  “Yep. So, I made Jeffrey Dean even angrier, which reminds me, I’ll be gone this afternoon to a little council meeting of my own. Luke and I have a plan.”

  Sophie’s eyes lit with delight. “Luke’s involved? Can I tag along?”

  Candace rolled her eyes. “I need you here at the shop. You can hunt him down some other time.”

  “What’s this other council meeting about?”

  “The other business owners and I are going to host a fun day for people and families to see what all of our businesses provide to the community. Then we will inform them of the evil plans to move us to the other side of the city.”

  “The ol’ bait-and-switch.”

  “That sounds a little shady. Don’t call it that. We are giving people fun and probably food. I should write that down, we’ll need food.” She looked around for a notepad, found one with purple sparkles, and jotted her jumbled thoughts. “It’s a win-win.”

  The door chimed for a customer, and Sophie went to assist a frantic-looking man in a Santa suit. Candace slowly pushed off the island and tuned out their conversation to search for items to make a neon green door wreath. They received the weirdest requests some days.

  She heard the door chime again and, since she could still hear the Santa’s worried voice, she made her way toward the front to assist the newcomer. She was glad her boots didn’t have soles that clicked on the cement. Her head couldn’t take it.

  “Hi, Kaye.” Candace moved out from behind the counter to greet the perfect-bodied yoga instructor from across the street.

  “Hi.”

  Kaye wore her typical outfit: black yoga pants and a brightly colored shirt that today was yellow. Her naturally beautiful face made Candace want to throw up. Candace didn’t dare leave the house without mascara and rosy lipstick that sometimes doubled as blush.

  “Need some holiday cheer for your studio?” she asked.

  “No, the flowers I picked up earlier this week are still going strong. Beautiful, by the way.” Kaye looked like a deer caught in headlights, wide-eyed and quiet as she studied her surroundings.

  “Is there something else I can help you with?” Candace asked.

  “Last night, that stuff you said. Is it true? Are we really getting run off because Mr. Dean doesn’t like you?”

  Bam. The $1.7 million-dollar convention center question.

  “It’s more like other members of my family, although I’m sure I’m on the list now,” she said with a grimace. She’d pretty much played her cards last night. There was no sense denying it now. All of the business owners would have to decide for themselves how they handled the news and if they were going to go along with the plan she and Luke discussed.

  “Oh.”

  “But”—if she spoke quickly enough, maybe she wouldn’t lose Kaye—“I have a plan. Luke and I came up with it after the meeting last night.”

  “Really?” Kaye looked so innocent, Candace couldn’t decide whether to smile or shed a tear. Guys were probably lining up at her door.

  “Yup. We want to meet with all of the owners this afternoon. Did you not get my email this morning?”

  “No. I haven’t checked it yet. I start classes at six. I’ve been dragging. I didn’t sleep last night.”

  You and me both, darlin’.

  “I’m sorry. I really should’ve warned you guys what I thought was going on, but I didn’t know, not really, until it was too late to tell all of you.”

  “Mr. Dean shouldn’t be using the city as his personal instrument for revenge. This isn’t affecting only you.”

  “I know. I feel horrible about all of this. I really do.”

  Kaye started to smile and before Candace knew it she was embraced in a hug, patting Kaye’s back a couple of times. Candace wasn’t exactly the hug-it-out type—but it was better than a slap, so she’d go with it.

  “We’ll talk about it more soon, okay?” she reassured.

  Kaye nodded, then her perfect body disappeared out the door.

  Candace made a beeline for the coffee maker. One down. Four to go.

  • • •

  “Can you help me rearrange some stuff before the others get here?” Luke asked.

  He really needs to work on his greetings. She’d barely walked through the front door.

  “The big strong man needs help?” Candace taunted.

  Luke rolled his eyes and headed up the steps at
the back end of The Pub.

  “Geez. I’m coming.” She hopped up the stairs right behind him. “No humor today. Got it.” She had a solid five hours of coffee drinking under her belt and could practically feel the liquid coursing through her veins.

  She checked out the way he looked from her lower angle. His jeans fit and moved nicely against his ass and thighs. It could be worse. She could have to deal with an arrogant man whom she didn’t know at all and had no basis to not like her. On second thought, that was exactly who she was dealing with. Ugh. I need to find better company.

  When she reached the top stairs, the landing opened into a larger loft area. Hardwood floors, like the downstairs, with hand-carved posts she’d never noticed from the vantage point of the first floor spread out over a large loft. Tables and chairs were stacked along the outer perimeter of the room. The walls donned old Irish-looking paintings and green decorated stained glass mirrors for accents.

  “Let’s set this up.” Luke pointed to the table and chairs. He reached to his shoulder and pulled off one of the rags he’d been carrying. She hadn’t even noticed them. She’d been too busy looking at his assets. She really needed to stop doing that. On second thought, looking was the only thing fun about dealing with Luke. She’d continue to steal glances and she wouldn’t feel badly either. It was the least she deserved for dealing with him.

  “Help me clean them off, too.” He handed her a rag.

  She overestimated their distance and her fingers ran up to his wrist. She lightly scraped them down his palm and took hold of the rag. She glanced at his face, but he didn’t seem to care.

  Luke grabbed a chair stacked on a beautiful grand oval wooden table.

  “That is gorgeous.” She moved closer to the dark table. “Why don’t you use this space?”

  “Haven’t had a need.”

  “You could do so much up here.” She used large sweeping motions to wipe off the top. White dust filled the air, causing her to sneeze.

  “Bless you.”

  She instinctually laughed. Every time someone around her sneezed, she heard Elaine from Seinfeld say, “You are so good lookin’.”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.” She sniffed and bent to wipe the table legs. The dust lifted easily, and she ran her hand over the top of the table. It wasn’t sticky. It was the smoothest, creamiest wood she’d ever touched.