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“Sir, I want to tell you how happy I’ve been here at Watson & Summers for the past nine years.”
“Has it been that long?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve learned a lot.”
“That’s good to hear.” Mr. Summers turned with a glass of sparkling water in his hand. “I know you’re up for the promotion.”
“Yes, sir.” He sat up straighter and smiled. “It’s an amazing opportunity.”
“You do know there’s only one spot open and a number of strong candidates.”
Wes could feel the promotion slowly slipping from his grasp. After being uprooted numerous times as a kid, moving from town to town, crisscrossing the States, he liked the thought of staying in one spot for the rest of his life. There was something to be said for putting down roots.
But if he didn’t land this promotion, he was going to have to rethink his plans. Manhattan wasn’t the cheapest place to live—far from it. As of right now, he didn’t have a Plan B.
Mr. Summers took a drink of water. He set the glass aside. “I have a way for you to gain an edge over the competition.”
Wes couldn’t help but be suspicious. Mr. Summers had never showed any favoritism toward him before, so why now? Still, he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate this—”
Mr. Summers held up a hand to stop him. “You haven’t heard the plan just yet.”
Wes had a feeling there would be no chance of turning down Mr. Summers—not unless he also wanted to say goodbye to his bright future
at the company. And that was not something he intended to do.
“I need you to go to Vermont.”
“Vermont, sir?”
“Yes. Bayberry, Vermont, to be specific.”
“Bayberry?” Wes tried to process this turn of events. First his mother, now his boss. “Have you been speaking with my mother?”
“Your mother?” Mr. Summers’ forehead creased. “Why would I speak to her?”
Wes cleared his throat. “What do you have in mind, sir?”
Chapter Two
First week of December
Bayberry, Vermont
Christmas was in the air.
As Katherine Taylor strolled down Main Street, just as she did every morning, she smiled. To her friends and family, which was everyone in the small town of Bayberry, she was Kate.
Jingle. Jingle. Jingle.
Santa Claus rang a brass bell next to a red kettle. Large snowflakes fluttered in the air, slowly making their way to the ground. The autumn decorations had come down. Now festive red ribbons and colorful ornaments adorned street lights as well as shop windows.
Everyone passing on the sidewalk dropped some loose change in Santa’s kettle. In turn, Santa paused the bell and wished everyone “Merry Christmas,” followed by a hearty ho-ho-ho.
Kate reached to the bottom of her oversized black leather purse, where most of her change ended up. She grabbed a handful of coins and dropped them in the kettle. She tried to guess at the identity of the person behind the Santa beard. Fred was their usual Santa, but this wasn’t Fred. Whoever was behind the costume had done a really good job, because she wasn’t able to put a name to the face.
“I’ve checked my list once and then twice,” Santa said, “and it says you’ve been really good this year. Santa has something special in mind for you this Christmas.”
