Page 85 of Deck the Hauls

“You’ll be great.” I resisted the urge to squeeze Emily’s hand in support. “I’ll go join the others.”

I found George, Hannah, Blake, Jenny, and Olivia as Emily joined Roz next to the ribbon.

Roz raised a microphone and cleared her throat.

“Thank you everyone for coming to the opening of Red Tractor Farm’s latest attraction—The Christmas Tree Farm Movie Museum.”

The audience broke into applause. Roz waited for it to subside.

“Now, as you know, in November HolLove filmed The Christmas Tree Farm here on Red Tractor Farm, and tonight it will be premiering on the HolLove Channel.” Another cheer went up. George whooped so loudly it sent my ears ringing.

“Sorry,” she murmured, wincing. “I got a little carried away.”

As Roz continued, my thoughts drifted back to Emily. We were going back to Brooklyn this weekend. Emily had arranged to meet Charles for coffee, and I was going for moral support. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to loosen the tension in my chest. If Emily was so uncomfortable with Roz catching any sign of affection between us, how would she be in Brooklyn?

Maybe I shouldn’t go with her to New York. Except, I couldn’t leave her to speak with Charles alone, especially after I said I’d be there.

Roz started to wrap up. “Now I’ll hand this over to the star of the movie herself, Emily Rossi, who has been key in bringing the museum together and generously shared many entertaining stories with us. Thank you, Emily, for all your hard work. Emily Rossi, everyone!”

The crowd cheered as Roz handed the microphone over to Emily, and I pushed my worries to the side.

“Thanks, Roz, and thank you everyone for coming out today to celebrate the opening of the museum,” Emily said. “I’ve really enjoyed my time here, filming scenes on this gorgeous farm and in Sapphire Springs, from Novel Gossip, with their delicious coffee and food” —I glanced at George, who was grinning widely—“to Main Street, the General Store and the ice-skating rink. And most importantly, I met so many wonderful locals who welcomed me into their lives, their homes, and their hearts. So much so, that when Roz gave me the opportunity to help with the museum, I jumped at the chance. Thank you everyone for being so welcoming. For being extras, letting us use your farms and cafés and putting up with any disruption we caused. I hope you all love the museum and the film. With that, I formally announce The Christmas Tree Farm Movie Museum open!”

She lifted a giant pair of scissors and cut the red ribbon tied across the front door. The crowd erupted into a roar of cheers and clapping.

“Thanks again for coming, everyone,” Roz said once the cheers had died down. “For those who want to see the museum, please form a line. If you’d prefer to go enjoy the café or buy a Christmas tree and then come back later when it’s less busy, you’re very welcome to do that. Enjoy.”

Emily made her way toward us, stopping to greet locals as she went, shaking hands and exchanging hugs. She stopped for a selfie with three ladies with graying hair.

I squinted. “Hey George, is that your mom?” I nodded in the direction of the trio.

George followed my gaze and then chuckled. “Yes. She’s very excited about the movie. She’s told all her friends back in Florida to watch tonight and keep an eye out for Novel Gossip and me. I’ve been trying to temper her expectations—for all we know, they might have cut the scene altogether."

“I can’t wait to see the movie and the museum,” Jenny said, pulling her sunglasses up so they sat on her head. “Although that line is already very long. Perhaps we should grab coffee at the café and come back when it’s less busy?”

A woman with long brown hair, a black pea coat over black jeans and boots, walked up to Emily. She said something, and Emily’s face fell.

I stiffened. What was going on?

“I might catch up with you guys later,” I said.

Who was the woman, and what did she say to Emily? Could she be sent by the director, Phillip, to threaten Emily?

My fists clenched at the thought. I picked up my stride.

As I reached Emily and the woman, I caught a few words.

“…I just wanted to introduce myself in person, to see if you had any questions.”

Emily looked stunned, as if she was still processing whatever the woman had said to her.

“Hey, you did a great job, Emily,” I said, resisting the urge to wrap a protective arm around her. “Sorry for interrupting. I’m Dana.”

I reached out my hand, and the woman held it with a firm grip, which I made sure I matched.

“I’m Rebecca Maguire,” she said.

Emily turned to me. “She’s the reporter writing the article about Phillip.”