by Robin Weaver
Katarina’s tree caught her eye—the hand-blown glass captured the light and sparkled like stars. The over-decorated fir looked stunning, if she did say so herself. Of course, Katarina’s plan to make an “out-of-this-world” tree, complete with glass planets and falling star lights, was so awesome anyone could have put together a winning tree. The woman might be difficult, but she produced some rather awesome Christmas Trees.
Something about the tree next to Katarina’s caught her attention. The mayor took her position at the dais, blocking Suzette’s view before she could take a closer look.
During the next fifteen minutes—or maybe three days—Suzette forgot about the other tree. She even ceased to think of Spence as anxiety bugs seemed to multiply and crawl all over her. What if Katarina’s tree didn’t place? What if she messed up her perfectly planned tree?
As the lower placements were announced and Katarina’s name wasn’t called, her lungs started to function again. The queen bee wouldn’t be happy with anything but first place, but a top-five finish would allow her to hold her head high.
Finally, third place was announced. Not Katarina.
Whew.
“Second place.” The mayor paused and the drum corps did the rat-a-tat-tat thing the high school drummers waited all year to do. “Katarina Snodgrass! Katarina’s team is—” The mayor’s words faded.
She’d failed.
Suzette swallowed, trying to think about anything that would keep her from crying. Hot sugarplums. She’d almost convinced herself she’d be happy with a top five finish. With the results announced, she conceded that as complete and utter Rudolph dung. She wanted to win. For Katarina. For herself.
She dropped her head into her hands, unable to look at her former nemesis.
“Suze.” Katarina hissed into her ear. “Get your head out of your butt and help me stand. I’m still not that steady on my feet.”
The words had the same effect as a well-aimed snowball. Suzette plastered another smile on her face and helped her former nemesis stand.
“Now hug me,” the queen bee ordered. “Don’t want it to be obvious I can’t get my skinny ass out of the chair.”
Suzette wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “I’m sorry I didn’t do better,” she whispered into the fashionista’s ear. “I think you should have won.”
“Are you kidding? I’m thrilled. Planets and constellations are so common, I was afraid I wouldn’t even place.”
Suzette leaned back to study Katarina’s face. She didn’t sound sarcastic.
She didn’t look sarcastic either. “Now get out of my way so I can go be fabulous.”
Okay, maybe she sounded a little sarcastic. Still, Suzette’s spirits climbed out of the dungeon.
Katarina spoke into the microphone. The crowd reacted. The queen bee knew how to give a speech.
As she tried to make sense of the words, Suzette noticed that all the chairs were empty. The winner hadn’t even bothered to attend the ceremony. How rude. Next year, she’d make sure the Christmas Tree champion was a local. Even if she had to join forces with the Mistress of Christmas Darkness.
She smiled when Katrina finished her surprisingly short talk, flashing her a thumbs up.
“And now—” the mayor turned and looked at her. Should she get off the stage?
The rat-a-tat-tat started again.
“Without further ado, our Christmas Tree winner. Suzette Forrester of Forrester Florals sponsored by the Brew Mistress, A Running Computer, and Psychic Visions.”
“Huh?” There must be a monumental mistake.
The lights went off. A spotlight flashed.
On a tree. With her Dresden ornaments.
Suzette tried to stand but couldn’t. As dreams went, this was a helluva good one.
Chapter Eighteen
Rudolph, the Deer-in-the-Headlights Reindeer
“Suzette, you have to stand up.”
She blinked. Was that Spence?
The man flashed his heart-stopping smile. Definitely Spence. “I told Kaley we should tell you we decorated the tree, but—”
“And miss this moment?” Kaley reached for her hand. “Seeing her face is beyond priceless.”
“I don’t know.” Spence took her other hand and helped her stand. “She looks like someone just shot Rudolph.”
Suzette blinked, trying to banish the deer in the headlights sensation. “I—We really won?”
“It’s real, sweetheart. Go get your award.”
She must be in shock. She couldn’t muster enough energy to be mad at Spence for calling her sweetheart.
By the time she got to the podium, her daze had taken on a red hue. She could easily kill both of them. She’d dreamed of winning the Christmas Tree Wars since grade school, and thanks to her so-called BFF and her, whatever Spence was, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the moment.
She forced a smile, her grin coming easier than expected as she looked at the cheering crowd. Well, maybe she could enjoy the moment a little.
“Thanks, everyone!” She started to sit, what more was there to say? Then she caught a glimpse of Katrina’s face.
The first runner up had found a chair in front of the crowd. The woman mouthed, “Say more.”
She nodded. Did Katarina think she’d purposely made the out-of-this-world tree second-best? She hadn’t. She’d done her damnedest on Katarina’s tree. She turned toward her creation, more to stall for time than to look at the thing. It was beautiful, but she thought the Douglas fir she’d decorated for her former nemesis looked better. Much better.
Went to show the judges really did go for frou-frou over sheer beauty. “I have to thank—” She went on to praise both Kaley and Spence. What they’d done had really been amazing. And they’d done it for her. She had to take a breath before she could thank Arnie and her sponsors—the three friends who made her feel blessed. More than blessed. No matter what happened or didn’t happen with Spence, she would have a good life.
In Merryvale.
“And finally, I’d like to thank Merryvale and the wonderful people who live here.” She thought she said the appropriate things, but she might have been rambling. “Now, let’s go have some eggnog.”
Even before the clapping stopped, she made a beeline for Katarina. Her former nemesis gave her a weak smile. Or it could have been a wince.
“Katarina, I didn’t know they were decorating my tree, I promise. I really tried to win for you.”
“I know. Thank you.”
She smiled back, combing her brain for something snarky to say. Her instinct insisted Katarina hated mushy more than she did.
Only she couldn’t think of a single thing. “You’re welcome.”
Katarina stepped forward and gave her a little hug. “If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll set that stupid pink coat on fire.”
Suzette smiled, feeling the world settle back on its axis. “Will you be all right?”
“You mean because I have to pay your bourgeois friend five hundred dollars? I may never recover.”
She grinned, amazed that Katarina still had her snark. “Yeah, that too. I meant the other thing.”
Katarina shrugged. “Working on it.”
Suzette nodded back, thinking she and Katarina might actually be friends. But like the queen bee’s recovery, they needed to go slow.
She turned to leave.
“One more thing, Forrester.”
She looked at Katarina, flashing what she hoped was a sardonic grin. “With you, there always is.”
Ms. All That almost managed to hide her own smile before her expression turned serious. “I may be a mess, but I know a good thing when I see it. Spence James is a good thing. If you let him get away, I intend to go after him. Just saying.”
Then Suzette saw him. Standing by the entrance. Waiting.
For her?
She swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat as she turned away to meet Katarina’s gaze. “Noted. Do you need help getting to your car?”
Katarina threw back her shoulders. “I’m not an invalid, Forrester.” She looked around, first to the right then the left. “Actually, my mother’s waiting for me. I can’t pull off this fabulous act much longer.” She flashed a look Suzette guessed had been intended as a glare.
She threw up her hands. “I know, I know. If I tell anyone—”
Katarina gave her a half-smile and left without another word. The woman managed a commendable sashay as she headed for the door.
As soon as she’d gone, Spence approached. “We need to talk.”
“Now?” Gads, couldn’t he let her enjoy her moment.
Chapter Nineteen
It Came Upon the Midnight Confession
Spence had been so relieved. And hopeful.
And definitely undeserving. “You’re right. Tonight isn’t the best time. Can I call you tomorrow?”
She huffed out a breath. “Might as well get it over with. Let’s talk now.”
Not exactly the encouragement he needed. “No, you’re right. This is your night.”
She shook her head. “Technically, it’s our night. I wouldn’t have won without you and Kaley. Guess you were right about that architecture symmetry. And your dad deserves most of the credit. The Dresden things were his idea.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.” Amazing he’d never noticed before. He’d had his head so far up his own septic system, he hadn’t noticed a lot of amazing things. Case in point, the woman in front of him. “Can we take a walk?”
She shrugged. “Why not?”
He looked at the trees as they headed toward the exit. He’d actually enjoyed decorating the tree. Who would have guessed?
If only he could do it again, but things weren’t looking very promising with Suzette. He’d never seen her so stiff. Actually, he’d rarely seen her without a smile.
He nodded toward the display. “You know, they should really put those trees up sooner so people could enjoy them longer. That’s a lot of work for just a few days of viewing.” He’d never imagined so much effort was involved.
“The trees stay up through most of January, Spence. People have plenty of time to see them.”
“Yeah, but after six hours of decorating torture, that doesn’t seem like nearly enough. Every muscle in my body aches. Why don’t they give the contestants more time?”
Suzette laughed, a sound he could easily imagine waking up to every morning. “Tradition.”
He grabbed her arm. “Wait.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“Tradition.”
“Tradition?”
He pointed to the mistletoe above. He’d intentionally guided her to the spot. Did he dare kiss her?
Before she could object, he leaned forward and kissed her. Soft at first, and when she didn’t resist, he increased the pressure. He could definitely wake up to her mouth every morning. As a matter of fact, he could think of nothing better.
“Get a room.”
Suzette pulled away too soon. “Who was that?” She stared at the black car as it pulled away. “Oh…Katarina.”
“Of course.”
She turned to look at him, her green eyes full of questions. “We both know you’re a great kisser, but we came out here to talk.”
He nodded. He really hoped she was the forgiving sort. “We did.”
She looked away, staring up, maybe at the festive banners crisscrossing the street. “Is the—Is Darlene okay?”
He grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at him. “Suzette, Darlene wasn’t hurt. She stumbled down the stairs but didn’t even have a scratch. I forced her to go to the hospital. Good thing, too.”
“Why?”
He dropped her hand, suddenly fascinated with the banners. “I wanted to make sure the baby was okay. She waited until the nurse took her blood pressure before she confessed.”
“Confessed?”
He nodded. “There was no baby. Darlene made it up.”
“No baby. Spence, that’s awful.”
Maybe, but he hadn’t even been angry. “No, I think I’m the one who’s awful.” And he was. Darlene wouldn’t have gone to such extremes if he’d been honest with her. She wanted a husband, pure and simple. He’d known that and he let her think he wanted a wife. Correction, he did want a wife, just not Darlene. He’d created an image in his mind of the perfect life, but his imaged partner had been all wrong. “I’m also an idiot.”
“I won’t argue with you there.” She shrugged, clearly fighting a grin. “But, still. Pretending to be preggers…that’s low. I’d never—Eh, sorry.”
“You’d never lie to anyone. I know that.” Just one of many reasons he’d fallen in love with her.
They walked without talking for several seconds. In a movie the snow might start to fall, but they were in Merryvale. A pickup truck drove by, exceeding the speed limit, and splashed mud all over him.
Suzette giggled. And giggled some more.
“All right, you. It’s not that funny.”
He grabbed her, intending to—he didn’t know what. Didn’t care. The very air seemed to hiss like the green and red lights encircling every streetlamp. An all-consuming need to tell her how he felt wouldn’t abate.
He pulled her closer. “I’m sorry, Suzette.”
She blinked, the joy seeming to leave her expression. “Sorry? About Darlene or what happened between us?”
“Between us?”
She didn’t say anything, just nodded.
“Wait? What do you mean between us? Why would I be sorry about that? That was the most amazing thing ever.” And it was. “Suzette, I’m sorry I’ve been such a dud. I’m sorrier still that I’m dumping all this on you when we should be out celebrating, but I have to tell you. Darlene and I have been in a rut so long I can’t remember the last time we…well, you know.”
“Not really relishing this conversation, James.” She tugged, but he held firm.
“Just bear with me a bit longer. What I mean is I should have known her being pregnant with my child wasn’t possible. The two of us haven’t been together like that in a long time.”
“And you’re telling me this why?”
A cell phone rang.
Chapter Twenty
We Wish You a Merryvale Christmas
Suzette glared at her caller ID. Of all the times for her mother to call.
She shook her head. Of course, her mother would call. Woman probably knew she’d won the contest before they announced the results. For someone who’d declared Merryvale the scourge of the civilized world, Carol Cartwright sure seemed to follow the town’s happenings with a vengeance—a vengeance bordering on obsession.
She glanced at Spence. Had he been going to tell her it was over with Darlene? She wanted to believe that so much it hurt. Only she couldn’t take any more hurt—did she dare hope again?
She needed a moment to get her heart ready—for either scenario. Talking to her mother might just reset her emotional register. “I’m sorry. If I don’t take this, my mom will just call someone else and order the person to track me down.”
He grinned. “I’m sure you want to tell her about your big win. We’ve waited ten years, what’s another ten minutes?”
What did that mean? She swallowed, the hope thingy she’d buried sprang to life despite all efforts to keep it in check. “Won’t take that long, I promise. Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, sugar. Eh…”
That didn’t sound good. She hadn’t expected her mother to be happy she’d won the Christmas Tree Contest, not with the event happening in Merryvale, but she hadn’t foreseen her dejected tone either. “Is everything all right?”
“Well, yes and no. Actually, sweetie, everything’s great. There’s just a tiny logistical problem.”
“Logistical problem?”
“Yes, sugar. You see, I might not be in Paris when you get here. I can be, if you really want me too, but…well…” Her mother’s tone had gone from dejected to giddy in a half-second. “I’ve been invited
to Buckingham Palace for Christmas Dinner. Inside the palace, hon, not the part the public sees. The royals won’t be there, but still.”
“That sounds great.” Only she had no interest in seeing Buckingham Palace this year. She couldn’t imagine her mother wanting to see the place either. Carol believed in entrepreneurs, not royals.
“But, sugar, I will fly back to Paris if you don’t want to be there alone.”
“Eh…” What? “No, don’t fly back. I may stay here a bit longer.”
“That’s great.” Her mother had lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’ve met someone.”
“Met someone?”
“Yep,” Carol’s tone had returned to normal volume. “He’s amazing. I can’t wait for you to meet him. You sure you don’t mind if I spend Christmas with him?”
“Not at all.” Her mom had met someone? Her mom?
“But I insist you join me for the New Year.”
Her mom had met someone. “I’m okay if you two would rather be alone?”
“Don’t be silly. I’ve missed you, sugar. And good luck in the contest.”
“Eh, Mom, the contest was today.” Her mother must have done a lot more than meeting if she’d forgotten the Christmas Tree War.
“Oh. So sorry. How’d you do?”
An expected swell of pride kept her from answering right away.
“You won, didn’t you?” Her mother shrieked. “I’m so proud of you, Suze.” Carol praised her often, but never about anything she’d accomplished in Merryvale.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Go celebrate. And if you want to bring some of your friends to Paris, feel free. Ciao.”
“Mom, wait.”
“Sure. What is it?”
She’d actually gotten her mother to wait? Another Christmas miracle?
Might as well ask her question. “Do you talk to anyone in Merryvale? I mean, besides me?”
“Of course. Arnold James and I go way back.” Her mother cleared her throat. “Well, not that far back. Is that all you wanted to ask, sugar?”
“Yes. Merry Christmas, Mom.”
“Don’t be silly, hon. I’ll call you on the twenty-fifth and we can chat longer. Now I really must go.”
