by Cindy Kirk
Finally, the closing hymn and prayers were done, and the pastor gave his benediction.
Sam rose, and Stella stood beside him.
“Tell me they don’t usher out from the front of the church,” she muttered.
The words had barely left Stella’s lips when Derek appeared at the end of the pew, a big smile on his face as he gestured for them to exit.
On the way down the aisle, Sam was conscious of all the speculative glances sent his way as he rested the palm of his hand against the small of Stella’s back. Growing up in Holly Pointe had taught him that there was no reason to deny his interest in Stella.
Everyone likely already knew they were dating.
The smile that he’d gotten used to seeing on her face was missing as they reached the back of the church. They’d barely reached the entryway when she turned to him.
“Thanks for finding me a seat.”
She turned and headed directly toward the doors.
“Wait.” In several long strides, he was beside her. “Where are you headed in such a rush?”
She cocked her head. “I’ve got a date.”
Sam froze.
Stella grinned. “That’s payback for you dragging me down that aisle to the front row.”
The tension in Sam’s shoulders disappeared. He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I have some ideas,” Stella’s voice was barely audible. “None appropriate for our current location.”
He followed her outside, eager to hear more, but she just kept walking.
“Where are you going?” he asked in frustration when he caught up to her.
“To the Busy Bean.” Her smile flashed. “I have a date. With Santa.”
Stella went on autopilot as she made lattes and cappuccinos and all other manner of drinks. Once Adriana and Reetha were caught up, Stella rang up orders beside Kenny.
She hadn’t realized how many people visited the Busy Bean on Sundays. She was thankful that Sam had given her a ride, because by the time she walked through the door, Kenny and his two baristas were struggling to keep up with the large crowd.
After washing her hands and pulling on an apron, she’d gone immediately to work. She’d lost track of Sam and assumed he’d left, but she spotted him now at a table in the far corner.
Their eyes met, and he smiled.
“It was nice seeing you and Sam in church this morning.”
Stella shifted her gaze to see Derek standing before her.
“Sam and I happened to arrive at the same time. He helped me find a seat.”
“In the front row,” Derek pointed out. “I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy.”
“I’ll pay him back.” Stella’s comment, made in a matter-of-fact tone, had Derek chuckling.
“He’s met his match in you.”
Stella smiled. “What can I get you?”
“I’m sensing you don’t want to discuss Sam.”
“Right now, I’d rather take your order.” Though Stella liked Mel’s brother, he was right. She wasn’t about to discuss her relationship with Sam with him.
“Coffee, black, and a blueberry muffin.”
“Got it.” Stella glanced at the tables, but Camryn was nowhere in sight. “What about your daughter?”
“What about her?”
“Does she want anything?”
“She’s in Sunday sch—” Derek stopped himself. “Youth group.”
Stella smiled, remembering those awkward middle school years. No longer a child, but not quite a teenager.
“Well, it was good to see you.” She gestured to the other end of the counter. “Adriana will have your coffee and muffin in a second.”
“I’ll see you this weekend.”
Stella inclined her head, not following. “I’m not sure I’ll be working here then.”
“I was talking about the movie marathon at Sam’s place Friday.” Derek flashed a smile. “It sounds really lame, but it’s fun. Sam cancelled it last year, and everyone missed it.”
Just that morning she’d reviewed the December events she was to cover. “I don’t have a movie marathon on my list to cover.”
“It wouldn’t be there because it’s a private party.” Derek cocked his head. “Sam didn’t say anything to you yet about it?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m sure he will,” he said hurriedly when Adrianna called his name.
Stella tucked the date away as well as the fact that Sam hadn’t invited her. Not yet, anyway.
She told herself that was actually a good thing.
It wouldn’t do for them to get too attached.
Instead of thinking about Sam, Stella thought about her strange conversation with Jane while she took another order. The managing editor had said all the right things, at least toward the end of the conversation. Still, Stella had the feeling that the closer it got to Christmas, the more Jane would push for an article that focused on the scandalous.
Stella cast a sideways glance at Kenny. The man continued to work as hard as his young baristas. He hadn’t left the counter since she’d arrived.
Determining whether he had a drinking problem would be key.
Once she had the information, she’d decide what to do with it.
The next few hours flew by, until at one o’clock, Kenny put a hand on her arm. “The girls and I, we can handle it from here.”
Stella had stepped from the counter to clear some tables. She was wiping down the last one. She gazed around her and realized the rush had indeed ended. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” His eyes were as warm as his smile. “Thank you again for your help. Norma was worried about today, but I’ll be able to tell her that with you here, we didn’t even miss her.”
Stella widened her eyes. “Don’t tell her that.”
Kenny gave a ho-ho-ho belly laugh worthy of any Santa Claus.
Only then did Stella realize he was teasing her. She chuckled. “Okay, I’ll go. But tell me when you need me next.”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Ken-ny.” She met his gaze as she drew out the syllables. “I want to help.”
“I know you do. You’ve done so much already.” He paused as if noticing the subtle lift of her chin. “Seriously, Norma is planning to be back tomorrow. She’s feeling much better. Mondays are always much more manageable.”
“Okay, but you know where to find me.” Still holding the cleaning rag, she gestured with one hand toward the ceiling.
“Yes.” His eyes softened. “I know where to find you.”
Without warning, Stella found herself engulfed in what could only be described as a massive bear hug.
“Thank you so much, Stella,” Kenny rasped. “You’re a gem.”
Tears stung the back of Stella’s eyes as she stepped back. “I just hope if I ever need a reference for a job as a barista, I can count on you.”
Her goal had been to inject some levity in the heart-tugging moment, but Kenny nodded solemnly and spoke as if making a pledge. “You can always count on me.”
Sam observed the hug between Stella and Kenny from his spot in the corner. His friends had long since left the building, leaving him behind. He could have gone, too.
Stella had likely expected him to leave.
Instead he’d composed and answered work and personal emails, scrolled through the latest news on the chaos in the world, and observed Stella.
When she’d greeted customers, her smile had lit up her whole face. That was new since she’d come to Holly Pointe. Though it hadn’t been that long ago, that first day, she’d been guarded both in her actions and her responses.
While Sam loved the people of New York, he’d noticed that they didn’t readily smile at strangers as they walked down the street or sat beside them on a subway bench.
A smile and a greeting were the norm in Holly Pointe, and Stella had caught on quickly. She had a good, kind heart and a desire to be part of a community. She’d found a home in
Holly Pointe.
The question was, would she want to make this place her home?
Tears shimmered in her eyes as she stepped out of Kenny’s embrace.
Something Kenny said had shock lighting up her face, then Kenny threw back his head and laughed. Stella quickly joined in.
Sam found himself smiling, just watching her.
Then she handed Kenny the cleaning cloth and took off her apron.
Kenny slung the green apron over his arm, gave her a wink, and headed back to the counter.
Only then did Stella glance around the tables.
Sam knew the second she spotted him because her smile flashed, and she wove her way through the tables to him, pulling out a chair and sitting down.
“I bet it feels good to get off your feet.”
“It does.” She expelled a happy sigh. “But it was fun. Though much more work than I remembered from my college days.”
“I’m sure Kenny appreciated it.”
“I know he did.” Stella hesitated. “You’ve known Kenny a long time.”
“My whole life.”
“I want to ask you something but as friend-to-friend, not as the Holly Pointe city administrator.”
The serious look on her face put him on alert. “Okay.”
“I need you to keep what I’m going to tell you confidential.” Her gaze searched his. “I need you to promise me that.”
“I can promise unless it’s something I’m required by law or my position to report.”
Her momentary hesitation only increased his unease.
“What is it, Stella? Has someone hurt you. Did—”
She placed her hand over his. “No. No. Nothing like that.”
“Then, what?” Sam flipped his hand over and laced his fingers with hers.
He followed Stella’s gaze as it shifted around the half-empty coffee shop. There was a couple seated at a table about ten feet away, a group of four men about the same distance in the opposite direction, and other tables even farther away.
Stella chewed on her lower lip. “Not here. Come up to my place. I don’t want our conversation to be overheard.”
As they climbed the steps to her apartment, Sam rapidly considered and discarded possibilities. By the time they crossed the threshold, Sam’s nerves were as tightly strung as piano wire.
What could she have to say that was so . . . private?
Stella motioned him to the sofa, then took a seat on the other end, angling her body to face his.
Sam lifted his hands. “Just say it. Whatever it is, just spit it out. The suspense is killing me.”
He kept his tone light, but he meant every word.
“Last night, in the school hallway, on my way to the auditorium, I saw Kenny drink one of the little airplane bottles of vodka.”
Sam blinked. This hadn’t been one of the possibilities he’d come up with on his trek up the steps. “Are you certain there was vodka in the bottle?”
“I can’t be certain.” Stella spread out her fingers. “The liquid was colorless. But if he wanted a drink of water, he could have gotten one from the fountain in the hall.”
“It is suspicious.”
“Then there’s the fruit-striped gum.”
Just when Sam thought this conversation couldn’t get any stranger, it did. “Gum?”
“Fruit-striped gum.”
Sam listened as Stella explained about a former coworker who was likely an alcoholic and his penchant for fruit-striped gum, which apparently masked any lingering odor of alcohol.
“What are you thinking of doing?” he asked when she finished with the story.
“I don’t know.” Stella surged to her feet and began to pace. “I thought maybe since you’ve known him, you could tell me if this is a common thing or if last night was an aberration. You know, because of his worry over Norma.”
The pleading look in her eyes tugged at his heart. He wished he had answers for her, but like her, he only had questions.
“I don’t recall ever seeing Kenny drunk.” Sam furrowed his brows together. “But then, most of the parties I’ve attended with him are ones where he’s there playing Santa Claus.”
“At the first party I attended in Holly Pointe, the one at the Bromley mansion, there was an open bar.” Stella expelled a breath and dropped down beside him. “I saw him toss back three or four shots of whiskey in twenty minutes.”
“You’re very observant.”
Though Sam hadn’t meant it as criticism, her cheeks took on a dusky color.
“I didn’t know many people.” She appeared to be trying—and failing—to temper the defense tone. “I was there to observe and take pictures.”
“I didn’t mean anything by that comment other than I hadn’t noticed.” He expelled a breath. “That makes me wonder just how many other things I don’t notice that I should.”
“Have you ever heard of Kenny having a drinking problem?” Stella returned her earlier question and pressed the point. “Was last night something we need to be concerned about?”
“Just to be clear, if a citizen, any citizen, had brought concerns of this nature to the mayor, I would know about them. Because we are copartners with the chamber of commerce on many of the holiday events, if Faith had known of any such instances, I truly believe we’d have heard about them.”
“I understand that, but I know Norma said something about Kenny having a hard time when their daughter was diagnosed with diabetes. I don’t know if alcohol was part of that time.”
“Leslie is at least fifteen years older than I am. That had to have happened years ago.” He shook his head. “I don’t see how what happened then is relevant to this discussion.”
“It’s relevant if he’s an alcoholic who’s been on the wagon and has now fallen off.” Stella tapped her fingers against her lips. “Have you seen him drink at other parties in the past few years?”
Sam thought back to the events he’d attended. “Yes, but never to excess.”
“Good.” Relief washed across Stella’s face. “Maybe Kenny doesn’t have a drinking problem, and last night was an isolated incident.”
“Not quite so isolated,” Sam reminded her. “There was his behavior at the Bromley mansion party.”
Stella waved a dismissive hand. “He was there as a private citizen. It wasn’t as if he got sloppy drunk or anything.”
“Let’s talk about last night. Would you like me to speak with him before or after you do?”
Her gaze met his. “Do you need to speak with him at all?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m concerned.” Sam reached over and took her hand. “I’m concerned about the liability of having a Santa who’s drinking during the time he’s contracted to perform his duties. I’m also concerned about Kenny. I like the guy, and I don’t want to see him get into trouble.”
“I didn’t bring this up because I wanted to get him in trouble.” She pulled her hand back and raked it through her hair. “I wish I hadn’t said anything.”
“Why did you say something?”
She flung out her hands. “Because I care for him. And I care about Norma. I don’t want people calling him ‘drunk Santa.’”
Sam gentled his tone. “No one around here is going to call him that . . . and do you know why?”
She shook her head, her gaze downcast.
He tipped her chin up with one finger so he could look directly into her eyes. “Because you came to me. Out of concern, you brought this matter to my attention before it became an issue. You did Kenny a favor. You did the city of Holly Pointe a favor. You have nothing to feel bad about.”
Tears welled in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks.
Sam brushed the moisture away with the pads of his thumbs, his gaze still locked on hers. “I don’t need to bring up your name in my discussion with him. All he needs to know is that someone saw him drinking in the school.”
“What if he denies it?”
“H
e won’t. Kenny is a stand-up guy. I think he’ll be relieved.”
“Relieved?”
“Whatever pressure he’s under that has caused him to go down this path needs to be addressed.” Sam cupped her face with his hand. “Trust me. We’ve got some excellent psychologists in this community that can help him find more appropriate and better ways to deal with his stress than alcohol.”
“If you need to tell him who saw him, you can say it was me.” Stella swallowed convulsively. “If he hates me, that’s how it will have to be. If he needs it, I want him to get help.”
“I know you want to help him. Because that’s the kind of woman you are.” Sam could no longer resist. He leaned close and covered her mouth with his.
Chapter Sixteen
By the time Friday rolled around, Stella’s head was spinning. According to Faith, the first week in December was one of the busiest of the year in Holly Pointe. It was Club Week, where each club in the community held a special Christmas open house.
These holiday events were open to the public and were part of what made Holly Pointe such a special place. Each day, Stella’s calendar included at least one—often two—of these gatherings.
When Sam had called on Tuesday to ask her to the movie marathon at his house on Friday, she’d just left the community lunch group’s Christmas extravaganza and was heading to the Bromley mansion, where she and garden club members were decorating the home for the holidays.
Stella had nearly said no to his offer. Though she enjoyed her social media role, she was feeling overwhelmed by the whirlwind of activities. But even as an excuse rose to her lips, she accepted the invitation.
One, because Sam had been in New York for his mother’s birthday, and she’d missed him. And two, because she knew that all the stress she’d been feeling had little to do with Christmas events and everything to do with the article. Day by day, she was falling more in love with Holly Pointe.
As saccharinely sweet as it sounded, the community really was the capital of Christmas kindness. Members of the clubs that she visited were welcoming and, well, kind. They epitomized the type of people the minister had extolled his congregation to be. They looked out for each other. And for her.
