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Hollis and Ivy

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by Elle Rush




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Blurb

  Copyright © 2017

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Interlude

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Check out other North Pole Unlimited romances

  BONUS RECIPE- No-Bake Coconut Christmas Trees

  More from Elle Rush

  About the Author

  HOLLIS AND IVY

  A North Pole Unlimited Romance

  By

  Elle Rush

  Blurb

  Unlucky Ivy Teague can’t win against her competition’s dirty tactics, and she will have to close her flower shop unless a Christmas miracle arrives at her door.

  By-the-numbers Hollis Dash has been sent to Whistler, BC, to finalize a business deal with Ivy’s rival, but meeting the feisty florist upsets all his plans.

  Can Hollis and Ivy both get what they want for Christmas?

  Only Santa knows.

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  Copyright © 2017

  Copyright and Published by Deidre Gould

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, places, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Mid-November

  North Pole Unlimited Headquarters,

  December, Manitoba, Canada (25 kilometres southeast of Winnipeg)

  His coffee had the perfect combination of hot and bitter to kick-start his brain after he’d frozen it on the drive to work. Winter had arrived, and the fluffy, ankle-high snow turned the dirty, barren landscape into a glittering, holiday wonderland. Nick Klassen, vice-president of Human Resources at North Pole Unlimited, didn’t have time to appreciate the view. He was heading into a meeting that he’d spent the last week preparing for.

  “Since John won’t be returning to work in a travelling capacity, we need to fill the eastern senior manager position as quickly as possible. I’ve been through your list of candidates and know what I think. How do you feel about Hollis Dash?” his boss asked.

  “I like him.” Hollis was his first choice. Nick had known the former accountant for five years. He knew the Mergers and Acquisitions department inside out and could spot a financial error at twenty paces. As far as Nick was concerned, Hollis’s only flaw was his despicable ability to win every sports pool at the office. Nick was convinced they had all been fixed.

  Adelaide Klassen looked thoughtful at his assessment. “His annual reviews are good, and John also provided a recommendation for him. I’m still not sure, though. I’d like to see how Hollis does in the field.” The steely-haired family matriarch and company president tapped her lower lip. It looked like a thoughtful gesture, but Nick wasn’t fooled. They both knew she had a plan ready to put in motion.

  “Okay. We’re looking at that candy shop in New Brunswick—”

  “No.”

  “How about the game designer in Ottawa who has the escape—”

  “No. I know he can investigate new businesses and bring them into the fold successfully. I’m thinking more of a struggling business under the North Pole Unlimited umbrella which may have to be cut loose.”

  Ending business relationships was more challenging than acquiring them. Nick mulled over the options as he stared into the blaze in the fireplace in the corner. He considered the dozens of reports that crossed his desk every week and thought of a winner. “We have an affiliate florist in Whistler, British Columbia. They’ve had a four-hundred-percent increase in complaints in the last six months. They’ve declined our offers to help, claiming their problems are due to a competitor. They say they’re handling it and should show improvement in the next quarter.”

  “That’s the one,” Adelaide agreed. “I think Hollis should check them out in person in order to decide if the affiliation can be salvaged, or if NPU should terminate our contract with them. We can’t have anyone damaging our reputation, even by proxy.” She gave a firm nod, indicating her conviction of the company she pretended she’d allowed Nick to choose.

  Nick shook his head. “I’m sorry. We were talking about filling the position in Ontario. Did you say you wanted to send Hollis in person? To Whistler?” Anyone who had spent an hour with Hollis knew he hated the mountains. His acrophobia flared if he used a step stool. Putting him on a plane and sending him into the mountains was not a good idea.

  “He’ll thank me for it later,” Adelaide said.

  Nick doubted it, but he knew the decision was made.

  Chapter One

  Ivy

  Last week of November

  Whistler, British Columbia

  “Hi, Maggie. Hi, Captain,” Ivy called out in greeting as she came through the front door of Teague Flowers and flipped the sign to OPEN. A blast of warm, flower-scented air enveloped her, chasing away the chill from her walk from the parking lot. November in the mountains was not for the weak of heart, but the scenery made it all worthwhile.

  Whistler was surrounded by beautiful, snowcapped peaks and evergreen mountainsides. It was impossible to find a bad view unless she walked to the other end of Whistler’s upper village and caught sight of Love in Bloom, her competition and nemesis. Instead, Ivy concentrated on the large bird cage in the middle of the store, admiring the yellow and green parrot within. “I hope my beautiful girl had a good night. What do pirates call their vacations?”

  “Arrr.”

  “And?”

  “Arrr,” the bird repeated.

  “Good girl!”

  “Kisses!” the bird said. Ivy blew her a kiss, and the bird hopped from foot to foot in delight.

  She pulled her heavy apron over her shirt and prepared to get to work. The cooler was full of flowers begging to be used. “Did we have any online orders waiting? I loaded my new arrangement designs onto the website over the weekend.” She’d had an idea for some baby’s breath and silver pinecones which would make an amazing, winter-themed centerpiece.

  “Nothing.”

  “Anything on voice mail?”

  Her assistant winced. “No orders, but there was a message. The Wicked Witch of Villa Montague has left two messages already.”

  “We just opened.”

  “Apparently, you should sleep here. Sorry to start your day with bad news, but she wants to speak to you immediately,” Maggie Oh said.

  It was a lie. Maggie was not sorry. She was thrilled that she wasn’t the one who would have to deal with the miserable, miserly hotel manager; the little dance she did when she handed Ivy the message slips gave her away.

  Ivy didn’t blame her. Ellen Franks had contacted her that fall with a Christmas order: twenty dozen poinsettias, one for each room in the ski town’s most expensive hotel. Teague Flowers had been trying to g
et into the chain hotels for years, but the branded ones had their plants and arrangements done in Vancouver and driven out. Ivy thought she’d struck gold when she got the contract.

  She’d been blinded by success and desperation. Every week since, the hotel manager had called with yet another requirement to fulfill. Currently, Ivy was barely breaking even on the deal. Any more changes were going to put her in the red.

  She took a moment to steel her nerves, then dialed the number which had become much too familiar over the past month. “Miss Franks, this is Ivy Teague, returning your call. What can I do for you today?”

  “I need to let you know we’re cancelling our order.”

  “Cancelling? For the poinsettias I’m supposed to deliver at the end of the week?”

  “Love in Bloom contacted us and offered a better price. I’ve decided to go with them for our holiday decorations. You can our refund directly to me. The mailing address is on our contract.”

  Ivy gulped—twice—but she refused to cry. Not over Love in Bloom. “I’ll look at your paperwork this afternoon.”

  That sounded good, and, technically, she wasn’t lying. She fully intended to look at the contract. Especially the fine print at the bottom, which said she got to keep the deposit if the order was cancelled within two weeks of scheduled delivery. The deposit wouldn’t cover her costs, not even by half. But it was something.

  “I’m glad you’re being professional about this. I thought you might cause a fuss at the last-minute change of plans. It’s just business, you know,” Miss Franks continued, as if her call hadn’t gutted Ivy’s monthly sales and chance of staying open through to the new year.

  “If you can send an email confirming the order is cancelled, I’ll close your file.” Ivy still didn’t promise a refund.

  “Right away. Good luck to you, Miss Teague. Perhaps in the future, you can be more competitive cost-wise. Love in Bloom guarantees the lowest price for the highest quality.”

  “I’m sure they do. Good-bye, Miss Franks.”

  Ivy managed to hang up the phone before she exploded. “I hope all the petals fall off the day after you pay your Love in Bloom invoice.”

  “Problem, boss?” Maggie asked as she tied a green apron over her purple turtleneck.

  “Not at all. Hey, do you know anyone who wants to buy two hundred and forty poinsettias?”

  Chapter Two

  Hollis

  Hollis Dash looked out the window of his rented, white four-wheel drive and shivered as he surveyed the winter scene in front of him. A crew with a cherry picker was replacing a string of Christmas lights hanging between two lamp posts. As if the ten thousand other holiday decorations around Whistler weren’t enough.

  He picked up his phone and responded to his last text. Do you know what Whistler’s elevation is? The highway is a death trap. He knew the assignment, which had forced him to make the drive up here, was a not-so-secret attempt on his life. His baseball team had made it to the World Series, and Nick’s was so bad it had been swept in the division semi-finals. But that was no reason for Nick to ship him to the top of the world with no chance of escape.

  The dancing monkey victory video Hollis had programmed to run every time his friend started his computer probably had something to do with his exile, as well. The joke had seemed worth it at the time. Now, not so much.

  Instead of pinging to indicate he’d received another text, his cell rang. A picture of a goofy-looking, Henley-wearing giant lit up the screen. “What do you want now, Nick?” Hollis asked.

  “Are you sure you weren’t a dwarf in a former life? Grumpy, maybe?”

  “Did you call for a reason? Do you need tips on next year’s draft?”

  “Very funny. I wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen off any mountains.”

  “I hate you. Good-bye.” He cut Nick’s belly-laugh off mid-guffaw.

  Hollis missed his desk. And his filing cabinet. And the coffeemaker on top of his credenza. There was no reason he couldn’t have completed this investigation from his office, with its nice view of the endless prairie. Unfortunately, he wanted the promotion to senior manager, so when the company president said jump on a plane, he jumped. If he proved himself in the mountains, he might get the job in the slightly hilly—but still mostly flat—east. He could do this one job.

  The flower shop wasn’t even open yet, and he’d already found one serious problem; they had competition on the other side of Whistler’s upper village, the small, touristy shopping area. Two florists going head-to-head in a small town was one thing, but making people choose for an impulse buy when they were both within spitting distance of each other cut any business’s odds by half.

  The florist and owner knew he was coming. There ought to be a pile of papers, invoices, and other goodies for him to inspect as soon as he walked in the door. Hollis wasn’t ready to face that yet. The two-hour time change was messing with his system. Only caffeine could straighten it out.

  There were numerous chain coffee shops in the village, but Hollis preferred to try independents when he travelled. A food truck with “Coffee Run” painted on the side, set up on the street beside the main parking lot, caught his attention. It was brilliant marketing for a town built on ski slopes.

  He wasn’t the only one with caffeinated intentions. Sunlight was barely peeking over the mountains, and the line was trailing off after the morning rush. Hollis found himself standing next to a tall, gangly man with a red-and-white striped hat and matching sweater. A woman in a full-length wool coat fell in behind him.

  The service was quick, the drinks were steaming, and the sugar was on the ledge beside the order window, next to a widemouthed jar of biscotti. Hollis took a deep whiff of his coffee before setting his cup on the counter. As he tucked his gloves in his pocket, he stepped to the side to make room for the next customer.

  “Good morning. The usual?” the man in the truck asked.

  “Make it a double, Joel. Thanks.”

  Something about the woman’s voice—clear and light and a little husky—made him smile. He noticed it had the same effect on the food truck worker, who offered her a big grin. “One of those days, huh? Don’t worry, Ivy. We’ve got you.”

  She directed that voice his way. “Excuse me, please.” She pointed at the biscotti container, and Hollis sidled sideways two more steps. He wasn’t about to come between a woman and her cookie. She grinned, and it hit him twice as hard as her voice. She was gorgeous. Her long, dark brown hair matched her eyes, and her friendly but anxious, “Yay, coffee,” whisper made him laugh. A puff of wind brought the scent of spring, a reminder of it, even though winter had barely begun.

  The woman used the tongs to pull a long, chocolate-topped cookie from the jar. Her next move happened too quickly to see. Her arm jerked, and he watched in amazement as the cookie went up, executed a perfect backward, double twist, and splashed down in his coffee.

  Nobody spoke until she gave a horrified gasp and said, “And I’d like to buy the handsome man in the tan jacket a biscotti.”

  Chapter Three

  Ivy

  Of course, she was a complete klutz in front of the cute guy. That’s the way her life went these days. See a handsome man, act like an idiot. Ivy stared hard at his chest, looking for coffee splashes. The last thing she needed was to have to dry-clean his jacket.

  “No, it’s fine,” the handsome stranger said.

  This was one mess she could clean up without breaking the bank. “I’m either buying you a cookie or paying for the cookie and buying you a new coffee.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Really, I insist. I can’t believe I was so butterfingered.”

  “Actually, the Butterfinger bars have the peanut butter icing,” Joel McCarthy interjected unhelpfully.

  She spared a mock glare at the truck owner, well aware he moonlighted as an unofficial matchmaker for the local population. “You know what, Joel? You need to brighten this place up. Get it into the holiday spirit. Want
to buy some poinsettias? Cheap? I’ll have Maggie bring over some for you. Four? Six? Marco loves flowers.” She had so many plants coming in, she’d be willing to trade some for coffee credits and free advertising. Everybody hit the Coffee Run while they were in town; Joel’s word of mouth would make a dent in her supply.

  “Thank you for the biscotti,” the good-looking stranger said, distracting her from her potential sale. He lifted the cookie and dunked it in his cup, then gave it an experimental nibble. “Almond and chocolate?”

  “Our bestseller,” Joel said.

  “I can see why.”

  While the Coffee Run initiated its newest fan into the biscotti appreciation club, Ivy paid Joel’s partner and carefully stacked the coffees into the holder she’d brought along. The two treats she’d intended to buy lay diagonally between the cups. A cookie would be a good distraction from the disaster waiting for her at the store.

  “Can I walk you back?”

  Ivy didn’t expect that. “What?”

  “To the flower shop.” The man reached behind her and plucked a spray of baby’s breath which had been stuck to the back of her coat. “I was headed there, as well. I’m Hollis Dash.”

  “You were?” Her day was looking up. Since he wasn’t a local, she figured he must be a tourist; they were easy to spot. Considering the population tripled during ski season, it wasn’t a surprise. He ought to be wearing a toque, but it would cover his sandy brown hair, and she liked the short cut he sported. He didn’t have any laugh lines around his hazel eyes, but he was still slightly older than her twenty-five years. Add in his friendliness and his manners, and he’d be welcome in her store anytime. “I’m Ivy.”

  “Exactly how cheap are your poinsettias? I heard you mention to…”

  “Joel. Well, being as I have twenty dozen because a corporate order fell through at the last minute, I’ll cut you a very good deal.”

 

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