Holiday Kisses

by Anna J. Stewart

  CHAPTER TWO

  XANDER HAD NEVER seen a Christmas tree decorated with seahorses and sand dollars before. Then again, he’d never had a California coastal Christmas before. Personally, he thought the giant starfish on the top of the forest-scented pine tree was an inspired touch, as were the seashell garlands interspersed with clumps of sugarcoated cranberries.

  “Help yourself to some coffee and cookies, Mr. Costas, please.” The tall, plump woman behind the whitewashed counter offered him a friendly, if tense, smile. “The white-chocolate macadamia nut is my favorite.” She tucked a wavy lock of hair behind her ear and her wedding set glinted in the sun streaming through the lobby’s bay window.

  “Never could say no to a cookie.” Leaving his bags by the seafoam green-and-gold upholstered chair, he wandered across the wood floor, humming along with the muted instrumental holiday music cascading through the room. The building had an old-world feel to it as he’d expected, given the structure’s history. The updates were recent, within the last year he figured, but the Flutterby did what a lot of boutique hotels and bed-and-breakfasts couldn’t quite manage—it felt like a home.

  A new barrage of nerves hit his chest. He liked the idea they’d come up with for the preliminary design, but now that he was actually here, was it too modern for the town? From his discussions with Gil Hamilton, Butterfly Harbor’s mayor, he assumed they were looking to move into a more contemporary style, which had been a relief. Now...he wasn’t so sure. The town had a lot of history that it seemed to celebrate. Although the few conversations he’d had with the mayor told him the man was more concerned with cost rather than design, an attitude that loosened the reins that usually held Xander’s creativity back.

  In his mind, the project would be a simple structure or two, big enough to get the Costas name out there, but small enough not to keep him up at night. And it should be the kick-start to rebuilding his family’s reputation as reliable architects.

  And...if there wasn’t enough personality in the sketches, he could add a few butterflies here and there.

  Butterflies. Xander smirked. Like he knew anything about the winged creatures other than what conservationists and environmentalists had been sounding the alarm over. The loss of migration habitats, the dwindling numbers, negative environmental factors. That’s what the facility would educate people about. Nothing fancy on his end, just a building they could teach in. Easy enough.

  Even now he could see his father’s eyes narrowing as he asked Xander what he could possibly be thinking by taking on a butterfly project.

  What was Xander thinking? He was thinking the family business was sinking faster than a tugboat in storm-tossed seas. He was thinking they had to grab on to any opportunity that presented itself. He was thinking that when in danger of drowning, you grab hold of whatever life preserver you can to stay above water.

  For the Costas family, for Xander, that meant putting all their hopes on...butterflies.

  Butterfly Harbor and its cozy village feel was a huge step away from the high rises and office buildings his family had been designing for the last sixty years, but they had to start over somewhere.

  With his coffee in hand, he caught a glimpse of Calliope Jones and her sister heading down the hill into town. He bit into the cookie he’d been unable to resist, grateful for the burst of brown sugary goodness to offset the hunger rumbling through his stomach.

  Calliope. As fascinating and unique as her name indicated. It was like watching a pair of rainbows take an evening walk, brightening the way for any who followed. The tiny silver bells in Calliope’s hair, holding a braid in place, had tinkled ever so slightly when she moved, adding to that fairy-like quality he’d picked up on the moment he’d laid eyes on her. And speaking of eyes...

  She had the most unusual amethyst eyes. Xander had only seen that color once before, in China as he’d gazed at the Purple Mountain, which was beautifully rich at dawn and dusk. It made sense, he supposed, as there was something ethereal about the woman, entrancing. Even the slight hostility aimed in his direction felt oddly like a prize of some kind.

  She struck him as the type of woman who made friends with everyone. That he put her on edge felt like a gauntlet was waiting to be thrown. He wasn’t entirely sure what she disapproved of—the project in general or him. He had no doubt he would find out. He anticipated a challenge in the offing, which added a zing to his already charged insides. He did his best work around adversaries. Xander couldn’t care less if people liked him or not, but they would respect the work he did. No matter how he had to earn it.

  “Okay, Mr. Costas, I think we have you all set now.” Lori’s soft voice rose over the sound of the young woman tapping away on the computer. “I’m afraid we aren’t able to put you in the tower room like you requested, at least not until Monday afternoon.”

  There was that strained smile again. Xander set his almost empty cup on the counter.

  “I hope you understand. We weren’t expecting you until then and we’re almost full through the weekend. What we can offer, if a regular room won’t suffice, is one of our residential cabins. It includes a private galley kitchen, dining and living area.”

  “The gardens are exceptional,” her assistant interjected with a sly expression on her thin face. “Lori works magic with flowers and plants.”

  “Willa’s one of the town cheerleaders,” Lori laughed as Willa flushed bright pink.

  “The cabin sounds perfect.” No doubt he should apologize for arriving early, but he’d learned years ago in business that apologizing was often taken as a sign of weakness. “Will the rate—”

  “We’ll charge you the same rate as the tower suite,” Lori assured him.

  “Perfect.” He pulled out his debit card and handed it over with barely a twinge of unease. As long as he and his brother were at odds over how to save the business, he wasn’t going to give Antony any ammunition to use against him. Which meant for the foreseeable future, he’d be footing the bill on this project himself. The private kitchen would be a plus, especially if it had a microwave. He could stock up and not worry about eating out at every meal, which meant he could get his work done all the faster and maybe be back home in time for the holiday.

  “Would you like to make a reservation at Flutterby Dreams for dinner this evening?” Willa asked, still seated at the computer. “We have a few tables still open.”

  “Not this evening, no.” Although the appeal of eating at one of Jason Corwin’s four-star restaurants again was tempting. How he missed the wining and dining of clients with expensive food and even more expensive wine. If things went as planned, this time next year he’d be back to schmoozing at Rockefeller Center or, even better, in Paris. But only if things went as planned. Otherwise, he’d be knee-deep in debt with real-estate agents trying to offload his New York city penthouse apartment. “Perhaps another night.”

  “Of course,” Willa said with a nod. “Breakfast is complimentary every morning of your stay. You can either eat here or we can have breakfast delivered to your cabin. “Would you like to keep the same checkout date?”

  “For now.” He’d paid extra for an open return ticket, but he was hoping to be back in Chicago well before Christmas. He needed to be home. He could only imagine what his brother was getting up to with the business...or how his mother was coping with their father.

  “I’m sorry you’ll be leaving before our holiday activities really get going. But just in case.” Lori handed him a flyer designed like a child’s Christmas list. “It all kicks off with a beach bonfire next Friday night.”

  “Sounds like fun.” He pocketed the flyer to be polite.

  “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Lori plucked up a monarch-butterfly keychain out of one of the cubbyholes on the wall, and after he declined her offer to carry one of his bags, he followed her back outside.

  In the few minutes since h
e’d parked, the temperature had dropped and the sun had dipped. Small solar lamps embedded in the landscaping had blinked to life and lit the way around the side of the inn toward a charming stone path. The cabins were lined up and down the cliffs, each cordoned off by black wrought-iron fencing and arching gates within floral-covered trellises. The exteriors were the reverse colors of the main inn, with bright yellow trim and woodwork and pristine white siding. Large windows allowed for a view of a cypress-framed ocean, which roared beneath him against the rocks and beach.

  White noise, he told himself, even as he cringed at the volume of Mother Nature.

  “I’ve put you in our largest cabin.” Lori glanced over her shoulder at him and pointed farther down the path. “It’s at the end, but it’ll give you the best view and also the most privacy.”

  “I appreciate that.” At least he thought he did. He wasn’t exactly a loner. He more than enjoyed the company of other people, but when it came to work, silence and solitude had always been his most welcome companions.

  “There’s maid service upon request,” Lori added as she took a short path to the left and stopped at the gate. “We want our guests to think of their cabins as their home away from home, so just a few hours notice is all we need.”

  “Short-staffed?” He couldn’t imagine a small town like this having that many people clamoring for housekeeping jobs. He followed her into the front yard and cast an approving look at the fall flowers spilling out of the window boxes and around the foundation of the cottage. The place looked like a miniature version of the main inn. Smartly designed, he thought, and fitting for the location. Doubt in their plans for the sanctuary crept in again, squeezing his heart.

  “Not at all.” If Lori was offended at his question she didn’t show it. “Most of our employees are part-time and hold other jobs in town. We just like to make sure we’re making the most of their time. If you’d prefer daily service, I can certainly arrange that.”

  If that didn’t make him sound like a pampered, pompous primadonna. “Put me on the books for Monday. That should be fine.”

  She nodded and opened the door to his cabin.

  The second Xander stepped inside, his nerves settled. “This is marvelous.” He dropped his bags on the floor by the door and walked across the thick-knotted throw rug beneath the small coffee table and sand-colored sofa. The soft blue on the walls gave the open space the feel of a seaside cottage, which, of course, this was even at this height. The wood floors were polished and glistened in the dim light of the table lamp Lori switched on. He followed her through to the small but efficiently stocked kitchen, where she checked that everything was in working order. She then led him to one of the two bedrooms, each with its own bath. The cozy beach feel continued in here with a sand-encrusted framed mirror over the dressers and ocean-inspired accents on the walls.

  “There are extra linens in the closet here in the hall.” Lori popped open the door, no doubt to satisfy herself that it was appropriately stocked. “Anything else you need, just call the front desk and we’ll have it brought out.”

  “This is exceptional.” He made it sound as if he’d been expecting a hole in the wall. “I’ve stayed in some of the finest hotels in the world and this matches all of them in comfort and style. Nicely done.”

  “We only finished the remodel on this cabin last week. Kendall Davidson is a one-woman construction crew. She served in Afghanistan with my husband and doesn’t stop until everything is perfect.” Lori walked over and pulled open the drapes on the main window in the living room. “She’s moved on to refurbishing the Liberty Lighthouse, which has needed attention for as long as I’ve lived here.”

  “I’ll have to go check it out. I want to get a feel for everything in town, so we can make sure the sanctuary fits what Butterfly Harbor wants.”

  Lori’s hand stilled on the gauzy white fabric. “Wants and needs might be two different things. But if you’d like to get the full Butterfly Harbor experience, I’d be happy to leave a list of our oldest buildings at the front desk for you.”

  “That’d be great.”

  “If you’re a morning person, I suggest Duskywing Farm. Calliope opens up at eight sharp until noon every day but Sunday. You can load up on produce and locally made goods. She’s supposed to have the last of the summer lavender honey this weekend.”

  “Calliope’s a farmer then?” He couldn’t quite imagine the woman he’d met wrist-deep in dirt and tugging potatoes out of the ground.

  Lori smiled. “Calliope’s a bit of everything. Farmer, healer, confidante.”

  “Healer? You mean like a doctor?”

  “Oh, no. Medicinal herbs and home remedies for various ailments, although she has acted as midwife and doula from time to time. She’s also our local butterfly wrangler. Whatever you’d like to know about butterflies, she’s your best source. Was there anything else you needed? A worktable for your computer, perhaps?”

  “This kitchen table should be fine.” He didn’t want to be a bother and besides, he wasn’t going to be here long enough to settle in. “I just need to call the mayor’s office and let him know I got in early.”

  “He’s partial to meetings at the Butterfly Diner. And bonus, Holly, the owner, is offering a free slice of pie for dessert with every meal ordered.”

  “Free pie, huh?”

  “Holly Saxon is known for her pies.” Lori backed toward the door. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to get settled in. Just dial six on the phone to reach the front desk.”

  “Thank you, Lori. For the room and the hospitality.”

  “Welcome to Butterfly Harbor, Mr. Costas.”

  * * *

  “DO YOU THINK they’re plotting to take over the world?”

  Calliope glanced up from the tattered paperback copy of her favorite murder mystery as Paige Bradley slipped into the seat across from her. While she’d recently earned her nursing degree and license, Paige had offered to continue working at the diner until after Holly’s baby arrived. A small-town quirk, Calliope thought with a smile.

  Until recently, Calliope had been an infrequent visitor to the Butterfly Diner. She preferred her own—and Stella’s—company, at her farm, in her drafty but cozy stone house. But Stella’s teacher had suggested at the start of the school year that Stella needed to socialize more with kids her own age. So their weekly visits to the diner had begun...at times when Calliope knew both Simon and Charlie would be around.

  Those two could work miracles with anyone, even her shy sister.

  Paige tugged her ponytail tighter on top of her head before sagging lower into the booth and pointed at the trio of kids.

  “If they are, our worries are over.” Calliope closed her book and set it on the table beside her nearly empty plate. Her second cup of herbal tea had gone cold, the telltale sign of a good story. Or a distraction. Something about Xander Costas continued to set her on edge, but maybe conversation with a friend would help. “It’s more likely they’re making plans for conquering the holidays. Rough couple of days?”

  “Busy.” Paige blew her bangs out of her eyes and plucked a leftover fry from Calliope’s plate. “I took Mrs. Hastings and Abby’s grandmother in for checkups this morning.” Abby’s neighbor, Mrs. Hastings, the former high school principal, had become an unofficial grandmother to both Abby and Charlie. She’d also become the latest senior citizen to join the Cocoon Club, a smorgasbord of town seniors involved in all kinds of local activities. “I swear, Charlie on a sugar rush is less trouble than those two. They made me stop for fast food on the way back.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t tell Holly. That might break her heart.”

  “I’d worry more about Ursula than Holly.” Calliope had a fondness for the curmudgeonly one-time US Navy cook who ran Butterfly Diner’s kitchen, not to mention Ursula’s amazing veggie burgers. Holly Saxon might own the Butterfly Diner, but everyone in town knew Ursula
wielded a mighty spatula. “Must be the day for doctor’s appointments. Holly’s about due for her second sonogram, right?”

  Paige cringed. “She was supposed to go today, but she cancelled. Third time she’s skived off in the last couple of weeks.” Paige’s words didn’t unsettle Calliope as much as her tone. And the way she suddenly seemed interested in the alley outside the window. “Can’t blame her. I don’t like him.”

  “Who? Holly’s doctor?”

  “Yeah. From what Holly’s said he’s one of those ‘there, there’ practitioners who likes to hear himself talk. And okay, I know there’s a lot to be said for experience, but he doesn’t listen to her.”

  “But you do,” Calliope observed. Paige wasn’t usually an alarmist, but concern for her friend was rolling off her in waves.

  “She’s worried something’s wrong and frustrated because he just nods and tells her she’s being overly sensitive.” Paige glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Not that there were a lot of patrons at the moment. Aside from the kids and Calliope, only a few other tables were occupied, the one in the far corner by Dr. Selena Collins, the local vet. “Holly would be ticked at me if she knew I was telling you this, but maybe you could speak to her? Suggest she change doctors so she’s not stressed out over appointments?”

  “What do you mean she thinks something’s wrong?” The midwife in her went on full alert. “Is she in pain?”

  “No, not that I know of.” Paige leaned her arms on the table. “She says things are just different this time around than when she was pregnant with Simon. She’s sick all the time when she’s not here at the diner. Which is one reason she won’t leave, but I’m beginning to wonder if she’s right and something’s...off with the baby.”