Maybe This Christmas

by Sarah Morgan

  “Because she hates confrontation, you know that. And she wants to please you. You’re her boss.”

  “I’ve known her since kindergarten.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact you’re her boss.”

  “So how did you know?”

  “I took a look at her face.”

  Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you been Mr. Sensitive?”

  “You don’t have to be sensitive to read Brenna.” Tyler finished his beer. “Everything she’s feeling is written right there on her face. All you have to do is look. Brenna is an open book. Always has been. She doesn’t have secrets.”

  Kayla gave him a long look. “Every woman has secrets.”

  “Not Brenna. I’ve known her all my life. There is nothing she thinks that I don’t know about.”

  The conversation moved on, and by the time he and Jess finally left, the snow had increased in intensity.

  Jess zipped up her jacket and pulled her hood over her hair. “You should invite Brenna over for dinner or something one night.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” Tyler strode through the snow. “It’s enough trouble cooking for you without adding another person. And no woman in her right mind would want to set foot over the threshold of our house. If they didn’t break a limb in the hall, they’d drown or be attacked by dogs.”

  “We could tidy up, and Brenna loves Ash and Luna. She’s always saying she’d love a dog, but she’s too busy working to have one.” She jogged alongside him to keep up with his long stride.

  “Seems like the two of you have talked about more than school.”

  “She’s cool.”

  He scooped up snow and threw it at her, and she squealed and ducked. “Dad! Behave.”

  “I’ve been cooped up with family night. I need to have a little fun.”

  “You should start dating. It’s not natural for you to spend your evenings with me.”

  Tyler thought of all the years he hadn’t had his daughter with him and looped his arm around her shoulder. “I like spending evenings with you when you’re not being a pain in the a—neck.”

  “You were going to say ass.”

  “I was not. And I don’t need to be fixed up by a—a—how old are you again?”

  “Thirteen!”

  “I don’t need to be fixed up by a thirteen-year-old.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE ANTICIPATED SNOWSTORM hit during the early hours of the morning, bringing the worst weather locals had seen for years. Across the state there were power outages and havoc on the roads. Branches snapped and windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the intensity of the snowfall. The Highways Department plowed and sanded, and schools were closed.

  Snow Crystal escaped all but the much longed for snowfall, which coated the mountains, the forest and the trails in a deep, thick layer of white.

  The resort’s efficient snow-clearing operation had been underway for a few hours by the time Brenna left her lodge. The path that led through the forest to the Outdoor Center had already been cleared, and she trudged through the winter-white, her feet sinking into the snow, grateful for her warm clothing as she felt the sting of cold on her cheeks. She breathed in the smell of pine and paused for a moment, savoring the muffled silence that always followed a heavy fall of snow.

  It wasn’t even seven o’clock but Élise was already in the gym, pounding on the treadmill while music shook the walls of the room that had been built as part of Jackson’s development of the spa. Glass walls overlooked the forest, and the trees loomed, ghostly white, out of the darkness.

  Brenna winced at the throbbing beat and dropped her bag on the door. “Is this French? I don’t know what she’s singing about, but I’m really sorry it happened to her, and I think she needs therapy.”

  Élise didn’t slow her pace. “She is angry because a man has treated her badly. Me, if a man did that to me I would—” She made a throat-slitting gesture, and Brenna shook her head as she peeled off her jacket.

  “How does Sean sleep at night with you next to him? Does he hide all the sharp knives?”

  “He is a surgeon. He is very skilled with a knife. If I chose to kill him, that would not be my way.”

  “Good to know.” Brenna stepped onto the elliptical machine. “Did he make it to the hospital this morning? The roads must be in chaos with all this snow.”

  “He stayed last night. He had a full operating list today and didn’t want to risk being snowed in. I slept alone.”

  “Ah—” Brenna hit start “—so that explains your mood and the pounding music.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my mood. My mood is as good as it ever is before the sun rises.” Élise ran as if she were being chased by a bear. “And you know I hate the gym. Me, I would always rather be running outdoors. I feel like a rodent on this treadmill. When I lived in Paris, always I ran outdoors.”

  “I can’t imagine running in a city.” Brenna scooped her hair into a ponytail. “You’d be breathing in fumes and dodging traffic.”

  “Who is breathing in fumes?” A sleepy-looking Kayla walked into the gym, her gaze fixed on her phone as she scrolled through her emails. Her blond hair was bunched untidily on top of her head, and her oversize sweater slid off her shoulder. “Who decided this was a good time to exercise? It’s barbaric.”

  Brenna adjusted the controls. “It’s the same time we met every day in the summer to run around the lake.”

  “But it was daylight. Now it’s dark, and I hate the dark. Any chance we could start this an hour later?”

  Élise glanced across at her. “What time did you start work when you were working for that fancy company in New York?”

  “5:00 a.m., but I was in my own apartment at the time. Back then I worked with reasonable people. No one expected me to show up at a gym and exhaust myself physically before my day started.”

  Élise lifted her eyebrows. “As if you haven’t been exhausting yourself physically all night with Jackson.”

  Kayla gave a smug smile. “That’s different.”

  “Isn’t that his sweater?”

  “It might be.” Her phone rang, and she checked the number. “It’s Lissa in Reception. Excuse me, fellow morning masochists, I need to take this. Hi, Liss, how’s it going?” Still listening, she dropped her bag on the floor. “Wow—that’s great news. Yes, I know it’s a lot—don’t worry, I’ll handle it. Leave it to me.” She hung up, and Brenna increased her pace.

  “What’s great news? What are you handling now?”

  “A run of bookings!” Kayla did a pirouette. “We’ve had another twenty since last night. The snow is bringing them in like wasps to a honeypot.” She typed an email quickly. “This storm is exactly what we needed. I’m starting to think there’s a possibility we could even be full.”

  Élise wiped her brow with her forearm. “And this news is enough to make you dance? I will never understand you.”

  “That’s fine, because I don’t understand you, either. Or je ne comprends pas vous, as you would say.”

  Élise winced. “That is not what I would say. Your French is truly terrible. I beg you, please speak only English.”

  “I have to tell Jackson. God, I love my job.” Grinning, Kayla dialed, tapped her foot impatiently and then pulled a face. “His phone is switching to voice mail. Where is he?”

  “Probably looking for his sweater.”

  Brenna intervened. “Knowing Jackson, he’s already somewhere in the resort sorting out a problem.” She thought about the year before, when they’d all been worried that the business might go under. Jackson had been gray and exhausted with the pressure of keeping the family business going and handling sensitive family issues. “What you’ve done is an incredible achievement, Kayla. Great job.”

  �
�Team effort. I get them here, Élise gives them food they’ll never forget and you show them the best time on the slopes so they want to come back. We should do a staff gathering, open champagne or something. Make a fuss. Get some excitement going. It would be motivational for everyone after all the uncertainty. I’ll suggest it to Jackson.” Kayla pressed Send on her email. “I need to talk to him because if we’re full, that puts pressure on the whole resort. Not only accommodation, but ski rental, classes, snowmobile hire—all the usual stuff.”

  “If you’re accommodating extra people then they need to eat!” Scowling, Élise increased the speed on the treadmill. “Which means thanks to you, I am going to be working twice as hard this Christmas. I don’t know why I even bother with this treadmill when I spend so much time running around the kitchen.”

  “You love being busy.” Kayla stepped onto the machine next to her, her phone still in her other hand.

  Brenna exchanged a glance with Élise, who simply raised her eyes to the ceiling and gave a Gallic shrug.

  “She was born with the phone attached to her hand. Sometimes I think for Kayla, her phone is more important than her heart. It keeps the blood flowing. If she puts it down, part of her dies.”

  “Put the phone away, Kayla,” Brenna said mildly, “or you’ll have a horrible accident.”

  “And then blood would truly be flowing.” Élise slowed her pace and reached for her water. “And my Sean, he is very busy today already, so he will not have time to put your bones back together if they are crunched by a treadmill.”

  Kayla shuddered. “That is disgusting.”

  “It is his job.”

  “I know what his job is. I don’t need details.”

  “Sometimes I think our jobs have many similarities.” Élise put the water bottle down. “We both spend our day dealing with bones and raw meat.”

  “Oh, please.” Kayla turned green, and Brenna smiled.

  “She’s doing it on purpose to wind you up. She’s laughing at you.”

  “She won’t be laughing when I lose my breakfast over her feet. I am so glad I don’t live in your house, Élise. I wouldn’t want to be present for your end of workday conversations.”

  “You think we waste our time together talking about work? We are both passionate about what we do, but when we finish, that is it. Sometimes we don’t talk at all. We just have sex.”

  “Too much information.” Kayla grabbed the remote and turned up the music then realized it was French and turned it down with a disgusted sound.

  Élise turned it up again. “You are so uptight. What is wrong with sex?”

  “I never said there was anything wrong with it. I just don’t understand your need to talk about it all the time.”

  “Why not? Sex is a perfectly normal, healthy thing. And the O’Neil men are all very physical, sexual men. The moment Sean walks through that door, he stops thinking about his day.” Élise gave a naughty smile. “Last night we—”

  “No!” Kayla covered her ears with her hands. “Brenna, stop her! She listens to you.”

  Brenna glanced at Élise, envying the ease with which she talked about sex, and envying her relationship with Sean. How would it feel to come home to someone you loved at night instead of an empty house? How must it feel to know that the person you loved, loved you back? You wouldn’t have to hide it, or hold it in. You wouldn’t have to dig your nails into your palms to stop you from reaching out and touching.

  Kayla was clearly still in work mode. “Élise, I know you were thinking of closing the Boathouse for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but if we’re full, I think you might need to keep it open.”

  Élise was running fast again, her dark hair brushing her jaw. “Are you telling me how to manage my restaurants?”

  “I’m telling you our guest numbers have doubled.” Strolling on the treadmill, Kayla was still checking emails on her phone. “They’re going to need to be fed. I see an opportunity.”

  “I see a nervous breakdown.” Out of breath, Élise stabbed a button on the machine and slowed down. “I will need to hire extra staff for the Christmas week.”

  “Tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen.” Kayla scanned an email. “I’ll mention it to Jackson. Can’t Poppy take over the running of the Boathouse for the holidays?”

  “She is busy in the restaurant with me. I will work something out. And now that is enough! What happened to our rule never to talk about work while we exercise? Not that what you are doing could be called exercise. The only part of you moving is your fingers. You haven’t burned any calories at all.”

  “This isn’t work, exactly. It’s exciting! And I burned plenty of calories before I left the house this morning.”

  Brenna reflected on the changes that could happen in a few months.

  This time last year the three of them had been single. Now she was the only one not in a relationship, and while she loved the fact her friends were so happy, it made her feel lonelier than ever.

  How would she cope when Tyler started dating again?

  “Are you all right, Brenna?” Élise stepped off the treadmill and looped a towel around her neck. “You’re very quiet.”

  “I’m fine.” But she wasn’t fine, was she? She wasn’t fine at all. Not wanting to draw attention to the way she was feeling, she tried to change the subject. “Great news about the bookings, Kayla. Anything that guarantees the future of Snow Crystal is a reason to celebrate as far as I’m concerned. For a start, it means I keep my job.”

  Which meant she’d carry on working with Tyler.

  She’d witness every date. It would be like working on the gates at Disneyland, watching everyone else indulging in a once-in-a-lifetime experience while she was stuck as a spectator.

  Élise wiped her forehead with the towel. “If you are fine then why are you looking sick?”

  Brenna hit the pause button and breathed deeply. “It’s nothing.”

  Élise exchanged looks with Kayla. “You will tell us what this nothing is and together we will solve it.”

  “You can’t solve it.”

  “I am very good with a knife. Is it a person? Give me a name. I will fillet them for you.”

  Kayla winced, and Brenna stared at the machine in misery, unable to pretend any longer. They were her friends. The first close female friendships she’d had. She remembered how Kayla had confided in them after her first night with Jackson. “It’s Tyler.”

  Élise’s eyes narrowed. “He has hurt you? I will definitely fillet him.”

  “No, he hasn’t done anything.” Brenna stepped off the machine. “It’s me. And it’s complicated.” It was something she’d never talked about before. Not to anyone. She’d never been one to share her feelings about things. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard, knocked off balance by the sudden rush of emotion. It was because she was tired. The conversation with Tyler had unsettled her more than she’d wanted to admit. She hadn’t been able to shake it off, not even on the slopes, and that was unusual for her.

  Kayla stepped off the machine, too. “How is it complicated?”

  “I really—well, I like him.” She stumbled over the words and decided that for once she was going to tell the truth. “I love him.”

  Élise raised her eyebrows. “You think this is news to us?”

  They knew? “You suspected? How? Is it obvious? Oh, that’s terrible.”

  Élise opened her mouth, but Kayla got there first.

  “We had a suspicion,” she said tactfully. “Why is it complicated? What has changed?”

  She wasn’t used to talking about her feelings for Tyler. “Jess wants him to start dating.”

  Kayla put her phone down. “She told you that?”

  “He told me that.”

  “He talked to you about dating othe
r women?” Élise scowled. “I’m going to fillet him and sauté him in hot oil. How can he be so insensitive?”

  Their loyalty was touching, but she knew it wasn’t fair to let them blame Tyler. “It wasn’t insensitive. He was talking to me as a friend. He has no idea how I feel about him.”

  Kayla gave her a long look. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Of course!” But they knew, didn’t they? And if they knew then— “Do you think he’s guessed?”

  “No, of course not,” Kayla soothed, “it’s only that we’ve known you a long time, and we think you’d be perfect together.”

  “Tyler has known me a long time, too. He’s known me forever. He’s very good at reading my feelings. He did it the other night when Jackson asked me to take the high school class. He knew I’d hate it. That’s why he offered to step in.” Brenna lifted her hand to her mouth. “If he knew, that would be awful. I don’t want him feeling sorry for me. This is my problem, not his. I don’t want things to change.”

  Élise glanced across with exasperation. “Merde, of course you want things to change! And for once instead of putting your head in the snow—”

  “Sand,” Kayla murmured and earned herself a glare.

  “Snow, sand, mud—whatever you do when you don’t want to face something. You could tell him the truth. You want to have sex with him. You want him to go from clothed to naked faster than his sports car goes from zero to sixty. You want him to be as in love with you as you are with him.”

  “But that isn’t what would happen. That isn’t what he wants. If he found out, it would be hideously awkward.”

  “Unless you’re wrong about the way he feels about you.”

  “I’m not wrong. I know him as well as he knows me, and I know I’m not his type.” There were things that they didn’t understand. Things she’d never shared with anyone. “I think he’ll be dating Christy by next week.”