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“That’s offensive. I guess I’ll stick to inheriting a giant mysterious inn then,” Annie said.

“Maybe in the sequel,” Nick said, giving her a small smile. “Need any help up these stairs in those stilts?” He asked, his dad joke game strong and steady.

Annie was pretty sure she could maneuver the heels alone but allowed Nick to take her arm anyway. When they reached the door, they could see Grant waiting by the window. He threw the doors wide open and flailed his arms in excitement, ushering them closer. He was dressed in a formal tuxedo with his hair slicked back.

“Oh, wow, that’s a choice,” Annie whispered.

“I’m so glad you could join us for breakfast!” Grant gushed.

“We love food,” Annie shrugged, and Grant let out a loud, hearty laugh.

“Annie, you’re so funny.” Grant smiled warmly at her.

“This place is impressive,” Nick said, glancing around the front hall.

“I’m glad someone thinks so,” Grant sighed to himself.

In the corner was a reception desk where an older woman sat wearing a Santa hat and broadly chuckling into a bright red phone. Annie was about to maul her to make a call out when she saw the phone wasn’t plugged in.

“She’s practicing.” Grant smiled as if sensing Annie’s interest. “Phone lines are still out. No calls in or out from the big city,” Grant quipped. The woman continued laughing as she took notes in a large red notebook with an oversized pen shaped like a candy cane. There was a tall Christmas tree near the grand staircase, decorated with red ribbon and white lights. The decorations were classic and thoughtfully displayed, giving the room a feeling of welcoming warmth and simple elegance.

Annie saw a man standing near the staircase, wearing dark sunglasses, hiding half his face. He was completely bald, but Annie silently questioned if it was because of an ill-fitting bald cap. More than anything else, he wore a serious expression while his black clothing camouflaged most of his presence. Still, there was something that seemed so familiar.

“What’s up with that guy?” Annie whispered to Grant.

“That’s Ferguson,” Grant whispered back. “He’s on security detail for one of our guests,” Grant continued in a hushed tone. But before Annie could ask a hundred follow-up questions, Grant was back to his normal showman-like voice. “Let me escort you to the dining room.”

Nick took a big step forward, and Grant teased, “Oh, you two just missed the mistletoe. Don’t worry, Annie, it’s all over the inn, I’m sure you’ll get another chance.”

“Wait, what? Mistletoe? More like mistle-no, am I right?” Annie said, forcing out a fake laugh, feeling her face flush. She couldn’t meet Nick’s eyes.

“How long did you say you’ve been running the inn?” Nick asked.

“Three days,” Grant said.

“And you just had that tux ready to go?” Annie asked.

“The letter from my great-aunt’s estate came just last week,” Grant continued as if he hadn’t heard Annie’s question.

Annie wanted to laugh, knowing full well that in reality Grant had spent most of last week planning the office party in between “auditioning” sexy Santas. “I could never abandon this special place. So many priceless memories. And not right before Christmas! We’ve had some investors offer obscene sums of money to take it over. All from the big city, of course. One of them is actually still stuck here because of the big storm.” Grant cringed. “Sorry, Annie, I know that’s where you’re from, but those people don’t have the small-town community values that we do. So, here I am! Running this beauty and helping out with the school’s Christmas show; I’m in charge of ticket sales.”

“And you’re also the host of all these town events? That’s a lot of stuff to accomplish in three days’ time …” Annie mock-marveled.

“I’m so inspired by the holidays. It fuels me,” Grant smiled.

“And actual human people are staying in the inn? Like, right now? Other than that Ferguson character, I mean?” Annie asked, still not believing that “security detail” was necessary in the made-for-TV Christmas movie Simsbury.

“Well, yes, thankfully, we were blessed with reservations before the winter weather and some because of it …” Grant trailed off in a dreamy trance. “I have a spot for you two right here at our community table,” Grant said, and Annie’s eyes latched on to those of a familiar stranger.

“Why, hello there!” Felix said, looking up from the table. “It’s so nice to see you on this beautiful morning.” Annie locked eyes with Felix for a moment, and a spark rang through her. He’s got to be Santa, Annie thought. “You both look ready for your close-up.” Felix finished, and Annie thought she caught a flash of meaning behind it.

“Good morning!” Nick said loudly, breaking Annie from her introspection and catching the attention of the woman sitting across from Felix. She appeared to be somewhere between sixty and ageless with her silver hair neatly confined in two tight braids, each tied with a piece of green yarn. Wearing bright red cat eyeglasses with rhinestones lining the frame and earrings that jingled every time she moved her head. Which was often. Arthur would dig those, Annie thought, eyeing them swing back and forth. Overall, the look screamed, “quirky eccentric”, and Annie thought she played the part well.

“Are we interrupting you?” Annie asked.

“Not at all, please sit down! Your presence is a treasured gift,” Felix said in his fiercely jolly voice, gesturing for Annie to sit next to him. Annie looked at Nick, but he was fixated on the woman at the table.

“Sorry, it’s just that you look so familiar …” Nick said, pulling out a chair.