by Cindy Kirk
“I appreciate the offer.” Stella kept her eyes on Faith, wanting the woman to see just how much she really did appreciate her kindness. Even if she didn’t need it. “But I think it’d be best if I just lurked, let people forget I was even around. I find I get the best pictures that way.”
And the most information.
“Whatever you think best.” Faith touched her arm. “If you change your mind or would like to know who someone is, I’ll be circulating all night.”
Suddenly confused, Stella cocked her head. “I thought Lucy was the hostess tonight.”
“Her company is handling the catering,” Faith clarified. “I’m the president of the chamber, and those in attendance are business owners in our community. These people who are here tonight are a huge part of what makes Holly Pointe special. I want to make sure they have an enjoyable evening and ensure they know just how important they are to Holly Pointe’s success. Also, I’m here to address any of their questions or concerns about any of the activities and promotions we have scheduled for the next month.”
By the time Faith stopped for breath, Stella’s head was spinning. She nodded. “Got it.”
Stella pulled out her phone and caught Faith’s quizzical look. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to spend the evening texting my friends. This is my camera.”
Surprise skittered across Faith’s face.
“Trust me. The pictures will be great.”
Stella spent the next half-hour studying the guests, both in the main parlor and in a second parlor that was nearly as large as the first. The smaller room held high-top tables covered in white linen where guests could place their drinks and plates of hors d’oeuvres while they visited with friends. Chairs lining the walls afforded those who wanted to sit the opportunity to do so.
She noticed Kenny Douglas, a.k.a. Santa, had been frequenting the bars in both rooms. In the short time she’d been watching, he’d made three trips to the bars. No White Christmas Margarita or Cranberry Mojito for this Saint Nick. Whiskey neat appeared to be his drink of choice this evening.
She got a photo of him downing the amber liquid then plopping the glass back down for a refill. Drunk Santa? It had possibilities. Stella made a mental note to keep her eye on Kenny, not only tonight but in the upcoming weeks.
When Stella entered the second parlor, she’d immediately recognized recently retired NHL star Dustin Bellamy. He and his wife were reported to be in discussions for a network talk show. Ever since their marriage nearly ten years ago, Dustin and his wife, former supermodel, Krista Ankrom, had cultivated a wholesome family brand.
The two were always newsworthy. A shot of them together would add a nice touch to her article. Especially since Dustin was from this area. Hopefully, she’d eventually be able to get one that included their adorable twin boys.
Stella followed Dustin as he shook hands and chatted with the merchants. He seemed to have the ability to charm in spades.
Krista also seemed comfortable in this setting. For being the mother of two school-age boys, she looked as stunning as she had when she’d been at the top of her career.
The interesting thing was, Stella noticed when she looked closely, Krista and her husband were like two planets circling the same sun. Both made their way around the rooms, laughing and talking, but never intersecting.
Perhaps before arriving at the party they’d agreed on a strategy that involved seeing twice as many people with a divide-and-conquer method. Stella didn’t think so.
There were no little smiles or sidelong glances. In fact, it almost felt as if they were avoiding looking in each other’s direction.
Could there be trouble in paradise?
Stella didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but it could be that their ho-ho, oh-so-hearty Christmas cheer was faked.
Drunk Santa. Lying hockey player and supermodel. Both possibilities would have Jane salivating.
Stella wished she could feel happier about the way Jane was determined to spin the article. But she considered herself to be a serious journalist, and this smacked of tabloid sensationalism.
If I don’t write the article, someone else will.
The thought should have brought her comfort, but it didn’t. Still, Stella assured herself, she wouldn’t include anything in the article that she hadn’t verified. The fact that this town billed itself as the Christmas capital and the font of all human kindness, or something to that effect, well, it was only natural that people would try to prove differently.
Feeling better, she slipped into the hall and removed the ribbon that had been placed across the staircase cordoning it off. Standing a couple of steps higher should give her an interesting camera angle into the front parlor.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The familiar deep voice had her hand stilling on the banister.
Sam didn’t even give her a chance to respond when he spoke again. “That area is off limits.”
Stella turned and shot him her best smile. “I guess that makes me an off-limits kind of gal.”
Chapter Three
The woman’s smile was so engaging, Sam had to smile back. From the second they met, he’d noticed that Stella Carpenter emitted a joie de vivre that drew people to her. His brother, Kevin, had been like that. The joke had been that a party started whenever Kevin arrived.
The thought of going through another Christmas without his little brother still stung, but after four years, it was more like a bee sting than a knife to the heart. Still, when he spoke, his voice was more curt than necessary. “Come back here, please. There’s a reason that ribbon is blocking the steps.”
Stella hesitated for a fraction of a second. Long enough to have Sam wondering just what he’d do if she continued up the steps. Run after her? And do what?
Instead of moving up or down, she crouched and brought up her phone, motioning for him to move to the side.
He moved slightly to the right, noticing the swell of her breasts and the way the dress hugged her curves. His body stirred. Completely understandable, Sam told himself. There was no denying that she was a beautiful woman.
Her hair was long and thick with a hint of a wave. The color ranged from a golden blonde to soft brown. Her eyes were hazel. Earlier today, in the outdoor light, they’d looked almost brown. Tonight, they were definitely green.
Sam couldn’t take his eyes off her.
He watched as her gaze narrowed on the parlor he’d just left. The way she angled the phone told him she was taking advantage of the additional height of the steps for her photographs.
After a few seconds, Stella straightened and smoothed the front of her dress, the phone still in her hand. When she picked up the clutch she’d set on the steps, he expected her to drop the phone back inside.
Laughter rang from inside the parlor, and for a fraction of a second, the deeper, male part of the merriment sounded like Kevin’s.
He turned back to Stella, the joy of the evening diminished by the memory, and found her taking pictures. This time not of the house or those in the parlor but of him.
Anger flashed, fueled by pain. “What are you doing?”
“You need to expand your repertoire of questions.” Stella dropped the phone into her bag and offered him a cheeky smile. “You asked me that three minutes ago.”
Without waiting for his answer, she sauntered down the steps, unhooked the ribbon, then replaced it once those high heels were back on level ground.
At six foot three, Sam was used to women hitting him midchest. Because of her heels, he was nearly eye-to-eye with Stella.
She gazed at him, challenge in her eyes.
He held on to his temper with both hands, wondering why he was suddenly seized with the overwhelming urge to kiss that insouciant smile from her lips.
In his family, Sam was known as being slow to anger, methodical, logical. Of course, in a family firmly entrenched in the arts scene, that wasn’t saying much.
Keeping his voice conversational, Sa
m fought to keep his voice even. “Why did you take pictures of me?”
“Ask Faith.”
Had the scent of her perfume, a sensual amber scent, addled his brain? Whatever the cause, he struggled to make sense of this strange conversation. “Faith Pierson?”
“Do you know more than one Faith?”
“You’re saying she told you to take pictures of me.”
“She did. I was instructed to get pictures of you and Lucy. That’s Lucy Cummings in case there are more than one.”
He couldn’t help but smile. This woman was different from anyone he’d ever known.
Still, he was unprepared when she crossed the short distance that separated them to slip her arm through his. “I’d like to get better acquainted. Tell me about yourself, Sam.”
While Stella understood that men usually preferred to make the first advance, as a reporter she didn’t have the luxury of waiting. Even worse, she didn’t have time to let Sam think he was the one actually doing the pursuing.
When the smile disappeared from his lips and he stepped back, she realized her mistake.
Being overeager was never a good thing. Stella told herself her attraction to him had nothing to do with him as a handsome male. It had everything to do with him being well connected in Holly Pointe. He likely knew where all the bodies were buried.
If the rationalization didn’t entirely ring true, it consoled her. She couldn’t let herself get involved with anyone in this town. Especially not this man. Once her story broke, anyone she’d come in contact with during her time here would feel betrayed.
A completely understandable response.
She thought of her father and how proud he’d been of her. When she’d accepted the position at the Sun Times, he’d brought out his favorite Teddy Roosevelt quote, “Far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”
In his mind—and in hers back then—she would continue to enact change by bringing the news—the truth—to the people. Only this time, her platform would be one of the largest newspapers in the state of Florida.
Stella knew exactly what her dad would think of the changes Jane had implemented. She shoved down the guilt, once again reminding herself that if she didn’t do this article, someone else would. It wasn’t a great argument, but it was the best she had at the moment.
It felt as if minutes, hours, had ticked by, but it was likely only a few seconds before Sam replied.
“Why?”
“Why do I want to get to know you?” Stella realized she hadn’t expected the push back. “Ah, that should be obvious.”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Sam rocked back on his heels. “Humor me.”
“Well, for starters, you seem like an interesting guy.”
A mocking smile lifted the corners of his lips. “You’ve discerned that from a total of five minutes of contact?”
“It was actually closer to ten.” Stella placed a hand on his arm. “I think you’ll discover, as we get better acquainted, that I’m very intuitive.”
“There you are. Faith asked me to find you. She thought she’d seen you headed in this direction.” Kate came to an abrupt halt, her gaze settling on Stella’s hand resting on Sam’s bicep. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not.” With an aplomb that Stella might have admired given other circumstances, Sam stared pointedly at her hand.
Offering him a bright smile, she dropped it to her side.
Sam turned his attention to Kate. “Have you seen Lucy?”
“Last I saw her she was in the second parlor speaking with Kenny.” Kate met Sam’s gaze, and something seemed to pass between the two of them. “Dustin was also looking for you.”
Sam smiled, and when he stepped past the brunette, he squeezed her shoulder. “Thanks, Kate.”
Stella waited until Sam was out of earshot to speak. “He’s an attractive man.”
“He is.” While the warmth remained in Kate’s eyes, there was a warning there as well. “Sam’s been through a lot the last few years. I wouldn’t want to see him hurt.”
The desire to ask what exactly this man had been through nearly overpowered Stella’s good sense. But she’d made a mistake in moving too quickly on Sam. She wouldn’t make another.
Besides, she had his name and enough information about him to start an internet search. By the time she went to bed tonight, she’d know nearly everything there was to know about Sam Johnson.
When the silence lengthened and she realized Kate expected an answer, Stella said truthfully, “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“It’s just that we’re protective of our own.” The tense set to Kate’s face appeared to ease. “I realize you need to get back to work, but Faith wanted me to quickly run through the upcoming schedule of events with you.”
“Sure.” Stella strolled with Kate into the second parlor, grabbing a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. She took a sip, found it delicious, then set the flute down on one of the tall tables and pulled out her phone. “Just give me a second to do a few more tweets.”
“More?”
“Before the party, I scheduled several to post under the town’s account, using the hashtag #christmastownusa. I posted to the blog on the town’s website, touting the business community who embrace the Christmas spirit year round. I’ve also posted about the ice-skating event tomorrow at Star Lake and the arrival of Santa Claus. Tonight I plan to do a mass email to those on the list reminding them of the upcoming week’s events.”
There was more to say, but Stella’s throat was getting dry. She picked up the champagne and took a longer sip this time before once again setting down the glass.
Her thumbs flew over the phone’s keyboard, and in a matter of seconds, the updates were done. When she looked up, she realized Kate was staring at her with a strange expression.
“What?” Stella touched a finger to her cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”
She reached for her bag, for the compact nestled inside. Before her fingers closed around it, Kate stopped her with a retraining hand.
“Your face is beautiful. Perfect, in fact.” Kate’s lips quirked up in a wry smile.
“Then why were you looking at me like that?”
“You’re amazing.” Kate shook her head. “You dropped into this position this morning and you’ve already got it under control.”
“Thanks to Kinsley,” she said, referring to the injured photographer. Credit where credit was due, Stella thought. “I met with her this afternoon, and she gave me the specifics on all the accounts as well as a list of December events.”
Stella saw no need to mention that Kinsley, a lovely girl in her early twenties, had not formulated a marketing plan. Still, despite being obviously upset about not being able to do the job herself, Kinsley had graciously given Stella everything she needed to succeed.
Not everyone, Stella knew, would have been as gracious in that situation. In fact, she could think of any number of her former colleagues on the Sun Times staff who, given the same circumstances, would have done everything they could to torpedo her efforts.
Capital of Christmas kindness.
The phrase popped into her head, and Stella thought how funny it would be, and how sad for her, if the title turned out to be accurate.
“I know you said Kinsley gave you the list of upcoming events.”
Stella nodded, picked up the glass of champagne for another sip.
“We added a couple more this afternoon, so the list she gave you isn’t complete. I’ll email you the updated one tonight.”
“That’d be great.” Stella rattled off her Gmail address. “Was anything added to this weekend’s schedule?”
If there was, Stella thought, she’d need to get on it right away.
“No, most of the events we added relate to the Mistletoe Ball.”
“I looked over the information on it and did a little web searching as well. Impressive.
” Stella had been amazed not only by the size of the event and the elaborate decorations in past years but also by its charitable bent. “I assume the money raised will be directed the same way as in the past.”
Kate nodded. “Ninety percent of the profits will go to the University of Vermont Cancer Center in Burlington. It’s a nonprofit comprehensive clinical and research cancer center. It’s the only such organization in the state.”
“The other ten percent stays in Holly Pointe.”
“Yes, to address local health care needs.”
Stella wondered whether the local money was really being directed where it was intended. She’d seen her share of small hospital administrators and doctors diverting money into their own pockets.
Another avenue to explore.
The way things were going, Stella would be too busy to think about the holidays.
Which was just the way she liked it.
As the sound of Christmas music being played on the lovely Steinway grand piano filled the air, Stella’s gaze strayed to where Sam stood, having an intense conversation with Dustin. Both men were attractive, but there was something about Sam that intrigued her.
Stella couldn’t wait for the evening to end so she could dive into his background.
Chapter Four
Stella loved her Louboutin’s dearly, but sliding them off and wiggling her toes in the privacy of her new apartment was a little piece of heaven. The party hadn’t wound down until one. She’d added more pictures to the blog, Facebook page, and Instagram, then scheduled a few more tweets.
It would be naïve to think that most people only checked their social media accounts during working hours. The truth was, people were up and checking their phones and laptops at all hours of the day and night.
The ice-skating party, along with Santa’s appearance, was scheduled for ten a.m. Reminders were needed so that parents and children didn’t lose out on the chance to cheer Santa’s arrival. Stella retrieved some pictures from last year’s merriment and sent them out as a visual, illustrating this as a not-to-be-missed event.
