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Mom continued. “But I do wonder if you might feel better with at least doing a little bit of brainstorming about the festival? You’ve only been home for the last few days of the festival for the last several years, but I know you’ll have ideas about how to freshen it up and make it exciting.”
This was something that I loved about my family. They didn’t sit here and make fake promises that everything would be okay, that I’d absolutely 100 percent succeed in this mountainous endeavor, but they did offer me supporting looks, chocolate chip cookies, and an idea that probably would, at the end of the day, make me feel better than a three-day nap. Though a three-hour nap after I made some lists and had some cookies wasn’t totally out of the question. It was a trying morning, after all.
Chapter 2
Cole
Even as the Chief Financial Officer for Winterberry Glen, my view wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was a space that was mine, and that’s why I insisted Blaire join me here for our first meeting about the festival. I didn’t want to spend more time in Holly Ridge than I had to. Plus, this way, she would know that I was in charge and wouldn’t be easy to take advantage of, no matter how vulnerable she looked when she tucked her shiny brunette hair behind her ears when she was nervous.
Okay, fine, I may have spent some time researching Blaire Greene in preparation for this meeting. Chalk it up to curiosity about why the daughter of the last mayor Holly Ridge may ever have was the one they decided to bring in to oversee the festival in such an incredibly important year, but I needed to see who I was working with. I had learned over the years that I didn’t deal well with surprises, and I found comfort in seeking as much information about who I would be working with as possible.
After just a few clips of her being interviewed by the local press and some image searches, it was obvious she loved the small-town life, and even worse, she loved Christmas. Why else would she dedicate her adult life to planning small-town festivals all over the tristate area? Honestly, she seemed to be quite competent and qualified for the job. Maybe no one would ever be qualified to run a festival that a town’s existence depended on, but she definitely had experience in small-town festivals and a love for Holly Ridge, so she seemed as good a fit as any. I also noticed she favored blazers to project a powerful image to the press. Even when there was a hint of vulnerability in her eyes during one particularly tense interview alongside a government official named Mason, the blazer seemed to act as a suit of armor for Ms. Greene. I reminded myself I didn’t care about Blaire, her fitness of any sort, or the future of Holly Ridge. That was why I had run the internet search, so I could get these mind-ramblings out of the way before we met in person.
Just then, I heard a knock on the door.
“Mr. Thomas?” Blaire asked from the doorway, looking around, uncertain if there should be a secretary or someone in the antechamber of my office to play watch dog.
“Ms. Greene,” I responded, standing up to greet her. “Please come in.”
I watched Blaire set her chin with her head held high and make her way into my office. No vulnerability present this morning, I thought, which was probably for the best. What was present were her piercing blue eyes, set beneath her long brunette hair, which rested in curls along the shoulders of her, you guessed it, blazer. This blazer didn’t have the decency to be boxy, with chunky shoulder pads, but outlined her figure perfectly, giving her a feminine shape while keeping things professional. I didn’t even know a blazer could do that. Suddenly, my mouth felt dry. I searched my desk for the water bottle I filled up every morning upon arrival at the office. I found it, right next to my monitor, as usual and unscrewed the lid, taking several generous swallows.
“How are you this morning, Mr. Thomas?” Blaire asked, settling into one of the chairs that were on the other side of my desk and shaking me out of my blazer-related thought soliloquy and subsequent case of Sahara-dry-mouth.
I sat down answering “Fine,” placing the water bottle back on my desk. I was not interested in engaging in any small talk, just in getting Blaire the information she needed and getting her back out of my door, so I could get my focus back and get to work.
A flash of surprise flickered through Blaire’s eyes at my curt response, but she pushed forward.
“I’ve been brainstorming since I met with the council last week about the scenario we find ourselves in, and I’m really excited to tell yo—”
“Before we start dreaming, let’s go over these state-approved guidelines for my oversight of the project.” I handed her the copy that I had waiting on my desk and watched as she took them in, her smile turning into more of a scowl with every line. Part of me wondered which she was going to address first—the fact that I had to give approval for every expenditure over $250, that we had to hold three town halls open to both communities over the course of the planning period, or the shortened timeline for the festival.
“The festival is only sixteen days long?” Blaire exclaimed.
The timeline it was, then.
“Why would you shorten it when it’s more important than ever that it succeeds?” Blaire’s cheeks were starting to redden as her indignation grew.
I assumed she wouldn’t be pleased with the restrictions laid out for her as festival planner, but I hadn’t expected how watching her reaction playing out on her body would have such an impact on mine, specifically in a tightening behind my zipper. No, I thought, trying to get my body back under control. Her passion and fury were not attractive, and in any case, we were not going there, not when my ticket out of Winterberry Glen was riding—no pun intended!—on the success of this project. The guidelines also clearly stated that a relationship between the two of us was forbidden to maintain ethical lines of approval.
“Yes, Ms. Greene,” I responded evenly, not wanting to give away the turmoil I was feeling inside. “While the success of the festival is important to you and to Holly Ridge, we must consider the financial implications of the typical month-long festival. When the festival runs longer, it’s more expensive to put on and the profit margin decreases. It’s to your benefit to put your focus on a shorter period of time. If you do your job well, it will help your overall profit totals.”
“If I do my job well?” Blaire stood at this point, our meeting clearly over now that she felt that I’d insulted her competence. “I’ve planned events for entities much larger than Holly Ridge and have always produced a healthy profit line. There’s a reason I was hired to do this job.”
“Oh, it’s not because daddy put in a call?”
At this, Blaire’s face was completely shuttered, devoid of any tells of emotions or that rosy hue I had found so alluring just a moment before. She was full-on ice queen.
“No, Mr. Thomas, daddy had nothing to do with my current position. Does your daddy have something to do with yours?”
It was my turn to shut down, even though I rationally realized that Blaire couldn’t have any idea how deep her barb would strike. My dad had no idea I was still in Winterberry Glen, let alone have any hand in getting me the job I had today.
“Good day, Ms. Greene. Please be in touch with a loose schedule concept by the end of next week.”
Blaire gathered up her notebook and bag, tucking her hair behind her ears and stalked to the door. With one last look over her shoulder, she said, “Bah humbug to you too, Mr. Thomas,” and she swung out of the office door, letting it click shut behind her.
Chapter 3
Blaire
