Christmas Clash

by Dana Volney

  “What kind of wood is this?”

  “I don’t know. My granddad made it.”

  “It should be displayed, not hidden away up here.” She looked at him, expecting him to agree and make a plan right then and there.

  “I have no use for it downstairs.”

  “Well, when this is all over and you still have your pub, you should consider using this space. It would be a great place for your office and a reminder of your heritage.”

  “Stop trying to design my pub and just help me set up.”

  She crinkled her nose and lifted one side of the table as he lifted the other. She took baby steps to the middle of the room. Beauty sure is heavy. She self-talked herself into being strong and not dropping her end.

  “Here is good,” he said.

  She set her end down and looked around again. There were five more tables along the edges. The big table they had just moved fit ten chairs. The smaller ones on the side of the room each fit five. The chairs to the tables were stacked. They were all the same color wood and all looked to have the same great craftsmanship as the banister. Luke’s granddad must have put a lot of time and effort into the furnishings.

  Candace’s stomach tightened. And he could lose it because of me. She couldn’t think on the horrible notion too long or she’d have to run to the bathroom and throw up. She focused on the positive: their plan.

  They started wiping down the chairs and setting them up. Her stomach growled. She turned her wrist to check her silver watch. Two o’clock. She’d barely had breakfast and missed lunch. She really was upset. Well, that’s just unacceptable.

  The smell of burgers, Reubens, and fries found her nose and she licked her lips, hoping she could get nutrition from smell alone. No such luck. Ugh, she was going to need to eat soon. There was no telling if it was going to be a yell fest or not. She might have to defend herself, and for that she was going to need a happy tummy. She’d hate to speak out of hunger at her own meeting.

  “I’m gonna grab a Reuben before this meeting starts. Think there’s time?” she asked.

  He checked his watch. “Sure. I skipped lunch, too.”

  “I’ll run next door and grab all the stuff I prepared and be right back.”

  “Suit yourself.” He disappeared down the stairs.

  She grabbed her phone from her back pocket and checked the store’s security cameras to see how Sophie was holding up. The flower shop was Candace’s baby, so naturally she’d set up a couple of wireless baby-monitoring cameras—one to cover the front room and one in back. It helped squelch fears of leaving Sophie alone during lunch rushes when she had to help with deliveries. She had control issues. She knew it. She owned it.

  Ten minutes later, Candace and her folder—red for the blood she wanted to draw out of Dean—made their way back to the pub and up the stairs where Luke sat in front of two plates of Reubens and fries. She nearly fainted out of excitement. She slapped her bag in a chair next to her and wasted no time digging in. She swallowed and reminded herself she needed to chew first. And she needed to take smaller bites—choking to death wouldn’t solve her problems. Luke probably didn’t know CPR. And, if he did, she doubted he’d resuscitate her—she’d be a goner for sure.

  “Yum.” She smiled, holding the sauerkraut and corned beef on rye with both hands. There was thousand island dressing and pepper jack, not Swiss, cheese on it—exactly how she liked it. She glanced at Luke’s sandwich. Is this how he likes his, too, or does he know I don’t like Swiss? She popped a fry in her mouth and thought about asking. Instead, she chewed and squinted at Luke, who was slouched back with a magazine in hand.

  She didn’t have much time to contemplate the meaning of her lunch—the sound of stomping took her from that perplexing moment to her next issue of the day. Her sandwich question would have to wait.

  One by one, the five other business owners who completed Block A filed in and claimed chairs. Kaye sat by Luke, Candace noticed, and she smiled curtly. Where Kaye sat shouldn’t matter, but she felt the pulling sensation of jealousy nonetheless. Mabel, Billy, Hilary, and Dan filled in the other seats. Three chairs were left empty. Two—she internally cringed—on either side of her. Okay. I’m a big girl. I understand they’re upset. For now. They could be upset for now.

  She needed to remind them all this area had been on the council’s list for months before she purchased her property. There was always a chance this section of downtown would be chosen. But instead of clarifying that detail, she swallowed the corned beef in her mouth, looked longingly at the uneaten half, wiped her lips with a napkin, and set it over the plate.

  “Thank you all for coming,” she said.

  She resisted the urge to stand. She didn’t need to command more attention than she already had.

  Luke sat up straight and put his magazine down. She glanced at his plate. He managed to finish his food. She was really going to have to let that go. She could have more food after the meeting. By then she may need to crunch her sorrows away with Christmas sugar cookies if they ran her out of town.

  “I wanted to start off by saying I’m sorry I didn’t know about Jeffrey Dean’s plan earlier or that some of the situation we are in right now is due to my family.” She gazed down both sides of the table and saw a range of emotion, from mad Billy to sympathetic Mabel. “I truly am.” Since no one looked like they were about to speak, she continued, “Luke and I have come up with a plan to fight the city council and their ability to make this decision without our consent.” She snatched up her red file before she heard Luke’s voice.

  “This vote was going to happen no matter what. I have a friend in the city’s office and he said our area was in their sights for some time now. There is no need to hold it against Candace. She’s trying hard, like the rest of us, to save our little piece of heaven. We have a solid plan, but it won’t work without each of you. So, if anyone doesn’t support it, we don’t proceed, and we all roll over for them to take what is ours.”

  Her heart seemed to freeze, then pound, and for a moment she forgot what she was there to say. All she could see were Luke’s green eyes. Well done, sir. Now, that is how you rile up a group. Not to mention Luke took the focus off of her. Double bonus. She might need to remember to thank later him for mentioning the “not totally her fault” words.

  “Thank you, Luke. The plan is to host a big block party next weekend and invite the community and media.” She watched for approval from her small group and mostly received it as she explained how they’d use media—both traditional and social—and that each of their businesses would host food and activities. Soft music played in the background, and she briefly wondered if he liked Christmas music or was only playing it for the season. “Little Drummer Boy” was her favorite. Which song was Luke’s?

  “Why would we do that?” Billy had no problem being grumpy. Too many rubber fumes from his tire store, probably.

  “During the festivities, we can educate the public on our issue. The news hasn’t been great about covering the story, so it’s up to us to inform people. In order for this to work, we need major public buy-in and support. The city council has to feel the hate so much, the majority votes to leave our land alone.”

  “And a block party is going to do that?” Billy’s disbelief was palpable.

  Are the others not buying in either? She knew sweat would emanate from her armpits any moment. She tried to subtly gauge her cohorts but glanced too quickly and the faces only blurred. She started to internally panic, then she heard his voice.

  “The only way they won’t vote with Jeffrey Dean, at this point, is if we give them a really good reason not to,” Luke said.

  Billy shifted in his seat. She wasn’t sure she could count on him to be a great public speaker on their behalf. He tended to be pretty gruff. But his business, the tire store, was very popular and they could use it to disperse information—and deals at his place would be enough to bring people down to their party.

  Kaye looked relatable and s
ympathetic. Her studio was popular and would be good for bending the ear of higher-end clientele and moms—moms were great activists when motivated. A lot of stay-at-home moms went to Kaye’s studio during the day, and the young idealistic kids patronized her studio in the evening. If they could motivate those groups, it would be big for their cause.

  Hilary would be great to stir the pot. Her beauty shop had a diverse clientele that would surely spread the word. How that information was relayed and perceived would be another matter. When women had their heads under the dryers, there was no telling what they’d hear.

  Dan’s bookstore would attract the educators in town and people who enjoyed buying local—aka the folks who regularly stood up for local businesses and would be their best lobbying group. They knew what to do and how to do it. Candace made a mental note to speak with Dan privately this week so she could corner a specific few of his regulars at the bookstore.

  Luke looked like—Luke. Even-keeled, judgmental, and handsome. He’d said nice things, sure, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t judging. He wasn’t a dummy. He needed her help and he needed buy-in from everyone at the table, and fighting with her in front of the group wouldn’t get him either. Part of her appreciated his tactics. Who knew Luke could be diplomatic? She was finding out a lot of new information about him lately: Diplomatic, James Brand hater, and possibly a pepper jack cheese fan.

  A shiver ran down her spine. She wanted to know more.

  Mabel, with hands folded in front of her, nodded slightly as she sat back in her chair comfortably. Mabel had a steady crowd of people at her coffee shop who wouldn’t be happy at the government was interfering. Informing them would be excellent; they would surely talk about their disapproval over their fancy dinners. Candace was all too familiar with dinners that didn’t separate business from professional. There was one scheduled next week sometime for all of the Ellison portfolio employees. Having Blake, and now his wife, Halle, there made them much easier to breeze through.

  She could use her connections to get people’s attention and to lean on the council. And, she knew just the people she’d contact. Frank would be the first call she’d make when she got back to Kiss from a Rose.

  But for now, she settled for handing out sheets she’d typed up around coffee cup number four. She’d listed each of their businesses and ideas, such as sleigh rides, hot chocolate, food, and live entertainment, that might draw the public to their block-wide event.

  “Here is what Luke and I were thinking,” Candace continued. “You can, of course, choose what you actually provide as entertainment for the event at your location. But please let me know so we inform the media correctly.”

  She waited for each of them to look over their sheet of paper and catch up with her train of thought. Luke caught her eye and she focused on him. Is he smiling? Was that flash of approval directed toward her? Maybe, after all these years, she was finally winning him over. He wouldn’t be such a bad friend to have. They were going to be neighbors for the foreseeable future. A truce with him would be good for business.

  When her nerves calmed down, the group discussed the plan of attack. Happy with the meeting, they filtered out one by one. Soon she was left standing in the room with a man who wasn’t a stranger any longer. His green eyes made her smile. Butterflies circled her stomach and threatened to flutter over with excitement. Well, that’s new. It was unnerving.

  “Good meeting.” Luke stood close enough she could smell his sweet woodsy scent.

  She prayed her face didn’t betray her and her butterflies. “Thanks for your support, too.” She knew his support was only due to their shared interest, but it still felt good.

  “My pleasure.”

  The way he said pleasure made her wonder—with dirty thoughts. Did Luke Carrigan know the state he’d put her body in, or were the shivers he sent through her by accident?

  “Why do you do that?” She searched his eyes as her mind caught up with her mouth.

  “What?” His expression didn’t change and she wanted to smack him.

  She was done with his toying. Candace took a step back when he stepped closer. Her gaze strayed to the balcony before settling back on his gorgeous green eyes set on her. What’s happening? She smiled tightly and, this time, stood her ground.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she said.

  “No, I don’t.” He shook his head back and forth once.

  Oh, he knows. Before her mouth did whatever it pleased by starting this line of conversation, she would’ve guessed no, but now she knew better. His words were intentional, as well as his gaze and affect.

  “Yes, you do.” She boldly stepped forward; they were practically touching. Her heartbeat quickened even though she willed herself to calm down. Luke was no one to get excited over. “You know exactly what you’re saying and how you’re saying it. What I can’t figure out is why …” She let the soft ending of her sentence trail to silence.

  Her gaze dropped to his lips. She intentionally held it for him to see and rubbed her glossy lips together. Was she really thinking about kissing him? Nah, she only meant to call his bluff. This was one helluva game of chicken. He would walk away and then she’d have the upper hand.

  His breath quickened and his eyes fixed on her lips. Her breath caught. Is he going to kiss me? Was she going to let him? Yep. She sure as hell was. Ignoring his personality, he was smokin’ hot. Confusion turned to want, and then her mind blanked.

  “Some mysteries are best left to the imagination.” His low voice rumbled over her body and down to her light purple painted toes.

  Her plan had backfired.

  He searched her face, and a flash of want filled his eyes before indifference took over, and he walked past her. She heard his footsteps down the wooden stairs. Each step nagged at her heart strings. Now he had the upper hand.

  • • •

  “’Ello.” Frank answered on the first ring.

  Candace smiled. The gruff voice on the other end of her phone had been protecting her for as long as she could remember.

  “Hey, Frank. Did I catch you at a good time?” Her stomach settled and she took a deep breath. Everything was going to be all right.

  “Sure. Whatcha need?”

  “This city council stuff has become serious. Real serious.” She paused and briefly considered her choice of words going forward. “I’m doing what I can, but I’m worried it won’t be enough. I need something, anything, to save my business and all the others down here.”

  “I’ve been following the situation. Wondered when I’d hear from you.”

  Her smile turned into a wide grin. “I kept forgetting to call.” The man had intuition. She didn’t know where he came from or how he’d partnered with her dad, but Frank was an asset.

  “I started looking into the council members already.”

  “Anything good?” She turned on the faucet in the big basin in the back room to fill a watering container.

  “Petty crap here and there. Nothing motivational. Yet.”

  “I need something that’s a game changer. Think outside the box.” What the hell? Her in-the-box thinking was getting her only so far. Frank brought years of experience with these types of situations to the family business.

  “I’ll let ya know.”

  The line went dead and Candace stared at her phone before darkening the screen.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Want to grab an eggnog or cherry pie after work?” Candace busied herself with a bouquet of white lilies, red roses, and fresh frosted pinecones on the island counter on a cold afternoon one week before Christmas and one Saturday away from the council’s fateful vote. Man, she sounded desperate. She couldn’t remember being this in need of a friend in a long time.

  “Got a gig with my band tonight. Want to come?” Sophie looked at her with hopeful eyes. “We can hang out. It’s low key.”

  Sophie obviously had picked up on her tone. Candace felt pathetic. She hated feeling weak. A large part of h
er relationship problems stemmed from her inability to naturally show vulnerability.

  “Sounds fun.” Candace made sure her voice sounded light as she focused on the holiday bouquet.

  Letting loose sounded perfect. Candace had time to grab a quick peanut butter and red plum jelly sandwich before getting ready. She slipped on black pants, a silver shimmery top, and put on her reddest lipstick. She finished her outfit with crimson closed-toe booties. It had been a long time since she’d dressed up for fun. Holiday parties and the dreaded council meeting, sure, but this was purely for excitement. And excitement deserved flashy heels.

  She grabbed a matching red diamond-encrusted clutch, then made her way across town to the Bombay Club. She found the last parking spot on the block and hurried inside. The cold air clung to her body, but she didn’t want to deal with a coat in the club—maybe not the smartest sacrifice. It took her a half hour, and one drink, to warm up.

  She sat with Sophie’s band mates—all girls and all punk rockers. She’d met one or two of them before and had seen Sophie perform numerous times, but tonight the group was exceptionally hilarious. She mouthed “thank you” to Sophie as the band made their way backstage to get ready for their performance.

  Candace pulled her phone from her clutch to check Facebook; maybe she’d even post about being at the club. For once she had something cool to write. She was about to stretch out her hand to capture a good angle for a selfie when his voice cut through the crowd.

  “This seat taken?”

  She straightened. Seats were sparse, but that probably wasn’t why he was asking. She titled her head up and to the side and looked straight into Luke’s eyes—his beautiful, many-shades-of-green-she’d-never-seen-before eyes. There goes letting my hair down. Her heels might have been rockin’, but they weren’t stand-all-night-in-one-place comfortable. She’d have to sit by him.

  “Yes.” She turned back to the deafening stage.