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“But you’re still acting like a child,” Uncle Matthias shot back with a growl. “You’re not a man. A man knows his duties and his responsibilities. You are a boy.”
Lance bit into the side of his cheek until the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. As much as he hated to admit it, his uncle wasn’t totally off base. He’d pushed the line as far as he could and created some wild times because of it. But learning how to run a business didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun once in a while. He didn’t want to end up stuck in the mud like his boring uncle. Still, he needed Uncle Matthias on his side. This position meant everything to him. It was only with his uncle’s approval that he could take up that role.
“What do I have to do?” Lance asked, his voice low and serious. It was the closest he’d ever come to begging. “Tell me what I have to do to convince you I’m ready.”
Uncle Matthias shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“Tell me. I’ll prove it to you.”
There was a long moment of silence in which Lance held his breath. Outside the large office windows, a flurry of snow began to twirl and fall to the streets below. The twin cities hadn’t received a substantial snow yet this season, and most of the office was hoping for a white Christmas. With two weeks left until the big day, every snowflake was a cause for celebration.
The only think Lance was hoping for were the infamous holiday parties his neighbors liked to throw. Nothing like getting buzzed on expensive liquors and peeing your name in the snow off the balcony of their third story apartment. That was the kind of holiday he preferred.
“I’ll tell you what.” Uncle Matthias leaned back in his ergonomic brown leather chair, resting his arms on the armrests. “I’ve got a family issue down state. Your grandmother, Pearl, started a foundation in her little hometown of New Hope about fifty years ago. This company has been supporting it since her trust fund ran out, but I’m thinking it’s time to close it down. I want you to go handle the dirty work of getting to know their finances, report back to me over the next two weeks, and when the time is right - shut her down. Think you can handle that?”
Lance swallowed hard. Two weeks in a tiny southeastern Minnesota town in the dead of winter? Might as well be stuck on a deserted island. He’d rather eat his own leg than spend a night in one of those cheery little highway motels with the nosy receptionist and the stale donut breakfasts. But he didn’t have a choice.
“Sure,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll do it.”
“Good.” Uncle Matthias looked pleased with himself, as if he’d just found the cure to cancer. “You handle this job with some class and restraint, I think we might just have a new CEO on the team.”
Lance thanked his uncle and then retreated, before he could change his mind. He had a trip to plan with Frankie, immediately. The sooner he left, the sooner he’d get back.
And with any luck, he wouldn’t die of complete boredom in New Hope, Minnesota.
Chapter Two
The harsh noise of the tape splitting from the roll across a box of her ex-boyfriend’s stuff caused Gemma Rink to pause. This was the last of it; an assorted collection of a year’s worth of memories and trinkets. Tickets to a jazz festival. A few CDs. The t-shirt he’d left at her place last week after falling asleep on her couch. His Red Sox sweatshirt. And three books she’d borrowed, but never read.
Placed on top of the pile was the bright blue box she’d dropped in, sealed shut. She’d refused to even look at it last night at the restaurant. The moment he’d dropped to his knee in front of her, with the little blue box in hand, she’d known it wasn’t right. She’d been feeling that way for the past four months. This wasn’t the man she was meant to spend the rest of her life with - that much was clear. Everything else was still fuzzy.
“You’re making a huge mistake.” Scott appeared behind the breakfast bar, his long-sleeved t-shirt rolled up to his elbows. He stood just over six-foot tall with short cropped blond hair. A walking Ken doll, her mother had called him. He’d agreed to show up early to pick up his stuff, but hadn’t been taking it well. A steaming hot mug of coffee in his hands told her he wasn’t ready to leave. “We’ve got a great thing going here, babe. You don’t want to do this.”
Gemma wearily pushed her blonde waves out of her face and dropped the final box on the counter in front of him. “I don’t want just a good thing. I want a great thing. You and I are settling. We both deserve better.”
He sneered and for the first time she noticed how crooked his bottom teeth were. “You can’t do better than this. We fit, babe. The minute I walk out that door, you’re going to regret this. It’s Christmas. Who breaks up before the holidays?”
She sighed and tried to ignore the insults, but the truth was, she did hate the thought of being alone on Christmas. But, she’d been over Scott a long time. It just took her until now to notice.
“Goodbye, Scott.” She led him to the door, took the mug from his hand and replaced it with the box. “Good luck to you.”
“Call me when you come to your senses,” he said over his shoulder.
“Not likely,” she mumbled as she closed the door.
All it took was two deep breaths with her back against the wall and Gemma was moving again, determined to get on with her day. There was less than two weeks until Christmas and a million things to accomplish at the New Hope Foundation. This was their busiest season. And as its Director, she didn’t have a minute to waste.
By the time she rolled into the office, her two employees were already there, standing watch at the front desk. Laurie Fink, her statuesque and stylish red-headed office manager, and Chloe Walker, her curvy and confident accountant with ebony skin. Together, the three of them made up the whole of New Hope’s foundation and had been inseparable since Gemma had hired them both almost three years ago.
“Spill,” Chloe demanded as Gemma handed each of them a piping hot styrofoam cup of coffee from Blue Stem Bistro, just down the block. “What happened last night?”
“Give her some time,” Laurie shushed Chloe, her red hair framing her face. “Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about it.” She turned to Gemma with a concerned frown on her perfectly coral lips. “You really don’t have to talk about it. It’s none of our business.”
“Oh, yes she does,” Chloe replied with a shake of her chunky purple earrings. “And it’s totally our business if our amazing boss is leaving us to move halfway across the country to join the big leagues. I’m thinking about firing up a union strike.”
Gemma smiled and tossed her empty cup in the trash. “You don’t belong to a union. Besides, no need to worry. I turned them down.”
A headhunter had been spending the better part of six weeks trying to get Gemma to apply for a position at a giant non-profit operating on the west coast. It’d be a huge step in terms of pay and experience, but it also meant working under somebody else and leaving her home town of New Hope. From the get-go
