Unease tickled the back of my neck. “What kind of punishment?”
Simon sighed. “Didn’t you read the handbook?”
“I skimmed it,” I said defensively. “The thing is over three hundred pages long, and it’s all technical jargon. Not that it makes any difference. I don’t have time for that now.”
Simon smoothed a hand down the front of his tie and picked a piece of phantom lint from his sleeve. Why wasn’t he coming up with ideas? Wasn’t he going to help me? I knew for a fact he’d solved matchmaking cases before. He always bragged about them at the office. There had to be a solution.
I twisted my hands together as an idea formed. “What if we could still do both cases? There are two weeks left. Give me a few days. A week, tops. The rules don’t say Jack can’t follow Becky to the city. I mean that’s like a huge grand gesture in romantic movies. I would literally swoon if someone did that for me.”
“What about the farm? Don’t you have to save it or something?”
My headache was back in full force, and my ankle had started to throb. “I don’t have all the answers yet. I just need more time. Please, Simon. This promotion means everything to me.”And my romantic future according to Madame Destiny depends on it.
“All right,” Simon hedged. “We can see where you take this. But be careful or you’re going to end up on the wrong side of a miracle. I’ve seen it happen, and it’s dark.”
“Thank you.” I slumped in relief. I wasn't out of the woods, but at least I still had a fighting chance.
“I guess I’d better go into town and buy a camera. You know, accounting hates surprise expenses.” Simon collected his empty coffee cup and walked to the door. I exhaled a deep breath as he left and stared out the picture window. In the distance, I spotted Jack, carrying his trusty saw while he headed for the rows of trees alongside a few hired hands. The crew’s boots sank deep into the fresh snow, but they plowed forward, on their way to cut our tree.
A soft smile formed on my lips when I remembered the look on Jack's face after I pointed it out. Complete awe. The mark of someone who hadn't thought a miracle was possible. It was heartwarming, and all the proof I needed that Jack deserved to heal and find love.
With Becky.I silenced the invisible elf on my shoulder who snickered and pointed out the obvious: I'd come closer to kissing Jack than she had, and the memory of our almost kiss was hotter than three years of interactions with Simon. But what did invisible elves know, anyway? They weren't bound by a contract or counting on a promotion.
I shook my shoulders loose and shuffled away from the window. What I needed was more coffee and a viable plan. With Jack out in the field, I slipped into the kitchen to refill my mug.
“How's that ankle treating you this morning, dear? Did you enjoy the medicinal tea?” Grandma Jean bustled in from outside, shoving the side door closed behind her. She scraped her boots of snow and tossed her gloves onto the counter.
I reached for an extra mug and poured two cups of coffee. “It’s a little sore, but already feeling better. And your tea was delicious. It really helped.”
Grandma Jean sipped her coffee and gave me a sly smile over the rim. “Your photographer is handsome. I had a lovely chat with him this morning about camera lenses. Funny how he knew so little.”
I ducked my head and pulled my messy hair in front of my face. “I think we both know he's not my photographer. I work with Simon at the agency.”
Grandma Jean clucked her tongue. “From that blush, you're trying to hide, it seems you wish you did more than work with him.”
“It’s complicated. Simon is a top agent and everyone loves him. He has more than his share of admirers. I just wish he'd notice me a little bit.”
“Oh, he's not the one for you, dear. He's too stuffy and I'm not getting the right energy. There's no fire there, so to speak.”
“But that could change if we were together. I have it on very good authority that it's meant to be.”
Grandma Jean’s mug clunked to the table. “I hope you're joking. One of my talents is reading people's energies. I can tell instantly when two people are perfect for each other. We've even done readings in our club and put together matchmaking events with great success.”
I chewed on the corner of my lip. “Maybe we need something like that for Jack and Becky? We could stage something at the festival to show them they're a good match.”
“Dear, I know you're the professional, but I don’t think Becky is—”
“When's the next meeting for your ladies’ club?” I cut in, excited about the possibilities.
Grandma Jean sighed. “Monday evening. It's my turn to host. We're going to burn a Yule log and drink some of Susan's famous enchanted eggnog.”
“That’s perfect. I'd love to pitch my idea if that's all right.”
“It’s fine, dear. Jack usually steers clear of our meetings, so he won't be around.”
“Excellent.” I grabbed my coffee and hurried back to my room. The festival was only a few days away, and I had plans to make.
Chapter 11
