Mending Christmas With The Billionaire (Artists & Billionaires Book 2)

by Lorin Grace

  After washing her hands, she turned the water to cold and splashed her face. Had she just lectured Sean? He wasn’t going to know she was falling apart. She patted her face dry, straightened her shoulders, and left the restroom.

  Sean stood in the corridor, the bags from her car in one hand and her purse over his shoulder. He held out her keys. “I locked your car and took out your purse. There are a lot of people wandering about out there. Most of them are probably honest, but there are probably a few pickpockets too.”

  Tessa removed her bag from his shoulder. “Thank you. I should have thought about that. I have my phone in my pocket, and I was so worried about the glass.” She reached for the other bags, but Sean started walking toward the stairs. She followed.

  When they reached storeroom number four, he set them on the table and turned to face her. “Sorry I scared you. After seeing the addresses on these bags, I am surprised you made it back before morning.” He offered an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry I snapped. It hasn’t been the best of days, and I nearly ended it with a heart attack.” Tessa started to pull out several items. “Do you know where I might find a floor lamp or some other light source? I’ve found this is the best place to work on the pane I am going to remove, but the lighting is dismal.” A light box was too much to ask for, and she didn’t want to explain the purpose of one. Maybe the hardware store would have something she could rig. A large picture frame with its protective glass over a table lamp could work in a pinch.

  “You can’t do it while it is in the window?”

  “Only some of the repairs can be done in the vertical window. The most damaged section is in one of the smaller side frames. There is so much work to be done, it is much easier to do it when it is lying down.” Tessa kept rearranging items so she didn’t need to look at Sean. Her stomach growled.

  “Do you like cinnamon rolls?”

  “What?” His brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

  “Cinnamon rolls. Wait here, and I’ll go get . . .” He finished the sentence as he ran up the stairs.

  After sorting her purchases, there was nothing else Tessa could do tonight. She turned out the storeroom light and hoped whoever took the pipes left the glass alone.

  She’d just reached the top of the stairs when Sean came in through the back door balancing two Styrofoam mugs and a paper sack.

  “I guarantee these are the best cinnamon rolls in the world.”

  Tessa reached for one of the cups. Mmmm—hot chocolate.

  “Is that the only jacket you own?”

  “No, I have my heavy coat in the car.”

  “Just a minute. Let me see what Granda has in his office.” Sean set the bag and his cup down on a small table and disappeared. He came back with a heavy wool coat over his arm and his scarf around his neck. “Thanks for returning this. Put on the coat. I want to show you something. And grab your cup.” Sean led her to the little closet in the entryway of the church and unlocked it.

  A wrought-iron staircase circled up.

  “Are you afraid of heights or claustrophobic?” Sean held open the door.

  “No, neither.”

  “Good. Can you balance your cup?”

  “I’ve had a bit of practice on this type of staircase. If the lid stays on, I’ll be fine.” Tessa followed Sean up the dizzying stairs.

  They passed a little door in the wall and kept going. At the top, Sean stopped and lifted a hatch-type door. The silhouette of the bell stood out against the starry sky. He set his cup and bag down and turned to help her in the cramped space. Sean maneuvered her into the corner and then shut the door.

  “Careful of the bell. It isn’t supposed to ring until Christmas Eve.”

  “Only one day a year?”

  “Three. Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Year’s. It also rings the first Monday of December at noon while the other bells are ringing, to test it. But everyone pretends they don’t hear it.”

  Tessa smiled and sipped her hot chocolate and looked out at the city. “I hadn’t realized there were so many Christmas lights up. But why isn’t the tree lit?”

  “They don’t light it until Saturday night. Eat your cinnamon roll before it freezes.”

  “These are delicious. Don’t tell my grandma, but they may be better than hers.”

  “Your grandma makes cinnamon rolls?”

  “Only for Christmas. The best part of going to her house is her rolls. They almost make the hide-a-bed that was in use when Elvis was still alive worth it.” Tessa studied the town square.

  “Where does she live?”

  “Near Manchester, Connecticut. As soon as I am finished, I’ll drive up there.”

  They ate their rolls and listened to the music drifting up from the park. Tessa broke their silence. “Do you come up here often?”

  “I used to every year with my dad to watch the tree lighting.”

  “You’ve mentioned your father a few times but always in the past. Is it too personal to ask?”

  “My father was a New York City fireman. He was last seen running into the South Tower.”

  There were no words. Like everyone else, Tessa had watched the footage again each school year since that September morning in elementary school, but she’d never met anyone who lost someone. She found tears filling her eyes. She reached out for Sean’s hand and held it. She didn’t look behind her, where she knew she could make out some of the lights from the big city. There were enough pictures in her mind.

  Neither moved during a rendition of “Good King Wenceslas” and “White Christmas.”

  “Thank you for not saying anything. Most people gush sentiments that are never very helpful.”

  “To be honest, I don’t have words. Thank you for sharing.”

  Sean turned away from the belfry wall, and Tessa stepped into a hug without thinking. When the first note of “Jingle Bells” played, Sean gathered their garbage and opened the hatch. “Go first so I can lock this.”

  On their way down, Tessa paused at the door in the wall and waited for Sean. “What is in here?”

  “The old balcony of the chapel.”

  All she needed was a rolled-up paper. Maybe it would be there.

  A couple of vehicles blocked Tessa’s car in the parsonage driveway.

  “Well, I guess I am either waiting or walking.” Tessa surveyed her car with her hands on her hips.

  “I’ll walk you to the inn.” He offered his hand.

  Tessa didn’t take it. Instead, she pulled out her keys. “I think my tools may be safer in the catacombs.” She hefted a large black bag from the trunk.

  Sean took it from her. The bag was heavier than it appeared. “What do you carry in here? An anvil?”

  Laughter answered him. “No, that would not be very useful. Just my soldering irons, a mini grinder, cutters, pliers, and other glass stuff.”

  She held the back door open for him.

  “I am going to lock this stuff in Granda’s office. Not that I am anxious about more things disappearing, but this is your personal equipment.”

  They double-checked the lock before leaving the church. This time when Sean extended his hand, Tessa took it. “Walk through the crowds,” he pointed to the right and to the square, “or avoid them as much as possible?”

  Tessa stepped to the left and the somewhat emptier street. Some people were starting to get in their cars, while others drifted in the direction of the train station. They passed several families and couples along their way. Sean looped his arm around Tessa’s back and pulled her closer when they passed what looked to be some NYU frat boys who’d had one too many at O’Malley’s.

  “Hard to believe I was once that stupid.”

  Tessa shoved him with her shoulder. “You mean a drunk college kid or
an NYU student?”

  “I went to the University of Rochester, so just a stupid drunk college kid.”

  “Music major, then?”

  Sean breathed easier when she didn’t pursue the door he’d opened. “With a business minor.”

  Another group of college students passed them, running for the train station. Sean checked his watch. “They’d better hurry. If it is on time, they only have about two minutes.”

  “Do you always stay here? I thought your grandfather said you rented an apartment in the city?”

  “I do, the same one I grew up in. I have been checking on Granda more frequently.”

  “You’re afraid of losing him.” No question mark punctuated Tessa’s voice.

  “Sometimes more than others. I think I would move away like Mom if it wasn’t for Granda. There are organs needing tuning all over the country. And I don’t relish the idea of living in the city my whole life. What about you? Where do you plan to go after you graduate?”

  Tessa shrugged. “I don’t know. I could go work in a studio or start one of my own. I like traveling and repairing glass, but as I learned in Europe last spring, hotels get boring after awhile. I’d rather have work come to me.”

  The train whistled. Three minutes late . Most likely deliberate to prevent stranded passengers. The street opened to the river. Lights of all colors bounced off its surface. Sean slowed his pace.

  Tessa did too. “Will you be around tomorrow night or Saturday?”

  “I should be here no later than seven tomorrow, and I’ll stay all weekend.”

  “I’ll need an extra pair of hands to extract the windowpane. Can you help me?”

  “No problem.” They stopped in front of the inn. Sean pulled Tessa in for a hug and dropped a kiss on top of her head.

  She stepped back and looked up at him. For a moment he was tempted to kiss her as if mistletoe hung above them. Then the lobby door opened, and the moment fled.

  “Sweet dreams, Tessa.”

  The walk back to the parsonage felt much colder.

  thirteen

  Reverend Cavanagh leaned heavily on his cane as he stopped to inspect Tessa’s work. It seemed to Tessa that he was a bit pale. “Would you like my chair?”

  “No, I’ve been sitting too much lately, I think. I haven’t been getting my walks in like I should. Looks like you are doing good work. Will it be finished on time?”

  Tessa swept up a bit of the copper foiling she’d trimmed away.

  “Did you glue this?” He pointed to a place where there had been a hole earlier.

  “No, I used an epoxy to fill in the spot where the pieces fit together with only the smallest of gaps, and since the hay was hand tinted, it seemed like the best option.”

  The reverend pointed to the area of most significant damage. “When are you starting on this section?”

  “Sean is going to help me remove this pane in the morning. I need to work on it while it is lying down. See how the came is all twisted and torn? That is why I wanted the plans. I want to know precisely where the original lead lines were.”

  Using the cane to steady himself, Reverend Cavanagh stepped back. “I couldn’t reach Nick, so I left a message on the answering machine over at the museum. I hope they get it. I liked it better when people answered the phones.”

  “Thanks for trying. Let me show you my drawings.” Tessa spread out her sketches. “I made two variations of the section. There are not many photos of this part of the window, as people tend to focus on the center.”

  He picked up the papers and studied them closely. “I think this one is the closest. You would think of all people, I would know. I spent nearly every Sunday of my life either preaching in front of the window or staring at it while my father or grandfather preached. I honestly have no idea.” He chuckled.

  Tessa finished cleaning up. “I got a call from an antique store not far from here. They may have an old window with glass matching the broken piece in her dress.”

  “You’d buy used glass?”

  “Old glass is even better than new glass sometimes as it has character the newer glass lacks. Considering my current choice is to replace this piece with something flat and almost the right color of blue, it is worth the drive to see what is in the window the shop found.”

  “Do try to get back early. Tonight is my favorite night of the festival—the judging of the Christmas cookies. I used to judge them every year. But my new doctor claims my body can’t handle the sugar and put me on some pill. If it were really an issue, he would make me get shots.”

  “My grandmother is diabetic too. You should be thankful it can be controlled with a pill or two each day.”

  “Only one dessert a week. He is taking all the fun out of life.” The cane thumped in emphasis.

  “I plan on being back for the judging, and then maybe we can split a winning cookie.” Tessa waved as she walked out of the back door.

  Sean reached the parsonage as Tessa drove in. At least she’d come back earlier tonight. She got out of the car and kicked the tire before stomping into the church. Curiosity got the best of him, and he followed.

  He could hear her voice as it echoed up the stairwell.

  “How can someone get blue and orange mixed up?” Then, for a few moments, he only heard her footsteps. “But wait. It gets worse. He says ‘I got another window, and it has blue and is all ripply.’ Candace, it wasn’t even real glass. It was some plastic aberration from the seventies. Remember the home-decorating book we mocked our sophomore year?” More footfalls. “Ten times worse. Then the guy tries to get me to go back to his storeroom. Coach Handsy with no charm. Where is Allie when you need her?”

  Her voice grew softer. Sean knew he should make his presence known, but he continued to listen quietly. “So, I go outside, and Gertie refuses to start. I made a deal with her two weeks ago that if she got me through this job, I’d buy her a new battery. Mr. Antique offers to give the car a jump. Gertie starts, but the guy wants payment before he removes the cables!” Something thumped loudly. “That or pay him fifty, he said. So there goes all the money I earned this trip. The irony is I got paid to kiss a totally hot guy and spent it so I wouldn’t have to touch a slimy fifty-something.” The laughter he heard sounded like it had turned to tears. “Candace, I am a mess! Stop laughing!”

  Sobs, not laughter reached Sean’s ears. He wanted to run down the stairs but realized it might not be the best course of action.

  “I’ve got to go. I promised the reverend I would go to the festival with him and try to keep him from overdoing it. He is type two, apparently, and is upset about not being able to judge the cookie contest.”

  Quiet shuffling. “Bye.”

  Sean retreated to the back door and opened, then shut it. Granda’s voice echoed with “A lie is anything with the intent to deceive,” but he felt less guilty than he should.

  Tessa came running up the stairs and nearly barreled into him. He put out his arms and caught her. She folded into his chest and sobbed. Sean hugged her and wished he could do more.

  After a few minutes, Tessa moved back and wiped her eyes. “Sorry for that.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She wiped her eyes. “I went on a wild-goose chase, and my car broke down.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Let’s say I met a stereotypical macho guy who—” She bit her lip.

  “Didn’t treat you like the lady you deserve to be treated as?”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” She managed a wan smile.

  “Why don’t you go in the ladies’ room and wipe your eyes, and then we’ll go get Granda. Cookie night is his favorite.”

  Tessa returned in a few moments. “Better?”

  “You look better, but how do you feel?”

 
She straightened her shoulders. “I feel like going to find some cookies.”

  Sean smiled. “Let’s go get Granda.”

  How was the cookie contest?

  Candace’s text had waited for almost an hour before Tessa was alone in her room and could answer.

  — Fine. Sean, the reverend, and I stayed until the reverend got tired. Worried about him.

  Need to talk?

  — No. But, thanks. I’ll call tomorrow, and we can chat. Is your dad there yet?

  Sunday.

  — Kk. Bye.

  Tessa took a too-long shower trying to wash away the emotions of the day. Once again, she’d come up short on the glass. All her life she heard about Christmas miracles. Maybe this year she should do what all the glittery signs suggested and “Believe.” But in what?

  By the time she dried her hair and put on her snuggest sweats, she still didn’t have an answer. She scrolled through her neglected emails. Araceli had written a long one, trying to convince her to do spring break in Haiti painting murals in an orphanage. While it sounded exciting, it wasn’t appealing enough to try to scrounge up a couple thousand dollars to go. It was nice to see Araceli so excited as she struggled with the demanding art major.

  Maybe Tessa had struggled once too and let her memory gloss over it. But it seemed from the first second she’d picked up one of the oil-filled cutters, Tessa knew glass was her specialty.

  The email from her father started out with a photo of his current wife on crutches. Tessa didn’t need to read far to know the plans for Park City were canceled. No, she didn’t particularly want to go sit with them in their California condo. The last line caught her by surprise. Pregnant? Twenty-five years of being an only child and now she was getting a sibling who was due the week of graduation?