Page 28 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

I lowered my phone and turned around. He must have heard the call and got the gist of it, because he had stopped glaring at the wreaths and was focusing his attention on me.

‘Sorry. What’s your name?’ I asked him, anticipating what he was about to say, but hoping I might be wrong.

I mentally willed him to say anything – Bert Twaddle, Conrad Goggins, Sylvester Starburst…

The man flicked me a cool look. ‘Blake Dempster.’

My stomach sank. Bugger. Of course, it was.

I raised the phone again to speak to Stephanie and ground out, ‘We’ve just met.’

‘Great! Well, that’s one member of our team you’ve been introduced to now. Right, must dash. Sorry about all that. Bye!’

I lowered the phone and set it on the counter. ‘You work for the Styleses too?’

‘I’ve just started.’

‘And what is it you are doing?’

‘Providing walking and hiking activities for locals, tourists and their cabin guests. Or at least, I will do.’

I took in his beard and muscular build.

Well, he might have the physique of Henry Cavill, but the same couldn’t be said of his personality. He was coming across as a right morose twat.

Blake Dempster leant against the frame of the shop doorway. His dark gaze was unwavering. ‘I hear the Styleses want you to do up their cabins like something out of The Nutcracker.’

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my trousers. ‘If you mean have they asked me to give them a festive makeover, then the answer is yes.’

He arched one thick brow. ‘This I must see.’

I watched him turn and open the shop door. The bell went crazy. Then he drew up and turned around again to look at me. ‘Waste of time and waste of money.’ His black eyes flickered. ‘I’ve worked in the mountaineering and hiking game for years. I know what I’m talking about. Guests won’t want to feel like they’re trapped in a department store on Christmas Eve. Perish the thought.’

Well. He didn’t believe in honeying his words. ‘I don’t dispute for a second, Mr Dempster, that you know your own business inside out but the same applies to me. I studied interior design and within the space of a couple of years of me becoming manager here, the Christmas Crackers brand has become recognisable across the country.’

I forced my mouth into a cool smile. ‘I know what customers want at Christmas. It’s about nostalgia and feeling cosy. It’s about being with family.’

Blake Dempster curled his lip and rolled his eyes. ‘How every saccharine.’

I shrugged my shoulders. ‘Maybe it is. Call it what you like. But whether it’s saccharine or not, that’s what people look for at this time of year and I don’t intend to let them or Mr and Mrs Styles down.’

Without saying anything, he dug one hand into his jeans pocket and produced a bright-pink post-it note. He sauntered back over to the counter and stuck it down in front of me.

It took me a few seconds to realise it was the one I had slapped on the four-by-four occupying the pavement outside.

Below my message, was a reply

This is my car.

Good afternoon and best wishes,

Coco the Clown.

I jerked my head up, my annoyed eyes narrowing at him.

Blake Dempster’s hard gaze flashed. ‘Welcome to the team, Ms Grant, and good luck. Something tells me you are going to need it.’

Chapter Eight