Rich meets my eyes in the rearview mirror and chuckles. “Nope.”
We drive for a few more minutes before Rich turns off the main road. The red-and-white sign in the distance reads Elderberry Motel. Rich pulls into the parking lot and parks alongside the small reception room.
“Thanks, Rich.” I climb out of his car, and he meets me by the trunk.
“You’re welcome. Enjoy your stay. Maybe I’ll see you having hot chocolate in the gazebo when I bring the missus. She always loves all the festivities they plan.”
I lift my suitcase out of the trunk, and he shuts it. “Sounds good, Rich.”
“Happy holidays.” He smiles and walks to the driver’s side, getting in and shutting the door.
I leave him a tip on the app and slide my phone back into my jacket pocket. I head toward the door that leads into the reception area. Before I can reach for the door handle, it whips open, and I find Santa standing there.
Not the real Santa obviously, but someone dressed as Santa. Several people actually.
I take a step back as they file out the door, one after the other. Some short, some tall, some old, some young. Each one smiles and nods at me or says “Merry Christmas” as they pass.
I’m not sure how many exactly pass me by the time the doorway is empty, but it’sa lot.
A plump woman with white hair pulled back into a low bun, wearing wire-rimmed glasses, stands behind the counter, smiling at me. If she were dressed in a red dress and white apron, she’d be the perfect Mrs. Claus. “Good evening. How can I help you?”
I wheel my bag behind me and walk to the counter. “I’m checking in.”
“Oh?” Her welcoming smile drops.
“Is there a problem?”
“What name was the reservation under?” She reaches for a pile of index cards.
“Russell. Carter Russell.”
She nods and shuffles through the index cards, biting her bottom lip. This doesn’t seem like a good sign. After she goes through the cards a second time, sighing with each card, she looks at me and cringes. Definitely not a good sign. “I’m afraid I don’t see your reservation.”
I stare at her for a beat, unsure what to say. “I know I made it.”
“Maybe it got lost, or I wrote it down for the wrong dates. Whatever happened, I apologize, but I don’t have it.”
I’m not an angry guy who can’t control his temper. No need to panic. I don’t want to make this little old lady feel any worse. She looks on the verge of tears. “Not a big deal. I’d like to take a room then.”
Her expression falls further, and her eyes do fill with wetness. “I don’t have any vacancies.” When I stare at her blankly, she adds, “It’s the Santa Festival this week,” as if that explains it.
I blow out a breath and push a hand through my hair. “Santa Festival?” I quickly wave my hand because it doesn’t matter what the Santa Festival is. “Is there somewhere else in town that might have some vacancies?”
Her lips shake, and I fear that pretty soon her tears are going to fall down her rosy cheeks. “Very unlikely. Any rooms nearby are booked more than a year in advance when the festival is going on.”
“Great.” Shit. What am I going to do? “Have you heard of the Silver Bells B&B?”
“Of course. Ashley is such a sweet girl.” Her smile shines back, so I don’t have the heart to tell her that “sweet” and “Ashley” aren’t two words I’d put together.
“Is there a cab company I could call to take me there? I know Ashley as well.”
“You do?” The tears have dried up, and she’s happy again. “Well, why didn’t you stay there in the first place?”
“Long story.” I’m not telling this woman that I’d fear Ashley might cut my balls off with a butcher knife in the middle of the night.
The woman reaches under the counter and pulls out her purse. “C’mon. I’ll drive you there. I’m Ester by the way.”
“Good to meet you, Ester. I’m Carter. I appreciate the offer of a ride, but should you leave this place unattended?”
