Page 4 of Christmas Cove

“Oh. Nothing. They’re great. Very festive. All I meant was—”

“Relax, America. I didn’t call you up here for any decorating advice.”

“You didn’t?” Tension returned to her neck just as quickly as it had gone a moment earlier.

“I have an assignment for you, and I need it done before the Christmas Eve issue goes live online,” he said and typed something into his keyboard.

“Of course. I can move other projects off by a week or two that aren’t due until after the new year.”

“Great. I need you to pack your bags.”

“Bags? Sir, I don’t understand.”

“The thing is, Meghan is sick, and she was supposed to be on her way to cover this story as we speak. I’ve gone over all my options. All my other writers are either on assignment already this week, or aren’t as good a fit for this type of story as you are.”

“But...I’m not a writer. I edit things. I sit at my desk and study data and trends, and curate the reader’s experience. I don’t...travel,” America said. “Isn’t there someone else?”

He turned his computer around and pointed to the screen splashed with wintery images. America imagined herself walking the picturesque town lane lined with snow-flocked trees and twinkling lights. On the corner, a Santa rings a bell. Large snowflakes fall around her. She looks up to the sky, sticks out her tongue, and tastes winter’s lace. Magic sparks in her mind and pulls at her heart.

“Listen,” Mr. Janowitz said, and shook her from her daydream. “I know this would be your first article, but I believe you are up to the challenge. I’ve read your reports and edited articles for how many years now?”

“Five.”

“For five years,” he said, as though he had known the correct answer all along. “You’re fantastic—”

“And you have no one else,” she finished. “I’m sorry. But I don’t think I can do it.”

“You’re right. I’m out of options, okay? But the truth is, I need you. I’m begging you. Please take this article,” he said.

“But it’s Christmas,” America’s voice sounded whinier than she meant. “I have plans to enjoy the city here. The Santa Hunt, ice skating, the Christmas market...”

“Christmas. Exactly. The assignment is simple. I need you to go and report on a town known for its Christmas traditions. Look at this.” Mr. Janowitz clicked through images on the screen of tree lighting festivals, Christmas markets, children skating on a lake, and a bonfire. “You’ll have all the Christmas you can contend with on this assignment.”

Intrigued, she scanned the computer images. As much as she yearned for an exciting holiday season, there was one small fact that she couldn’t wrap her mind around. “But sir, I’m not a writer.”

He turned his computer back around. “Just think about it like writing up one of your reports. If you write the basic story, I can have one of the other writers review it. It’ll be fun, and you have nothing to lose.”

“I just don’t know whether I’m the right person.”

“I’ll double your pay and cover all your expenses. I’ll even take care of your cat,” he said.

“I don’t have a cat, but I appreciate the sentiment.” America stood and crossed her arms. “I can’t take the assignment. I’m not a writer, and...” She would need to think up a better excuse, because the more she said it, the sillier it sounded to her.

“I realize this is last minute. Will you at least consider going? Just let me know by...noon? That way, I can get back to the mayor and let him know that I’m not sending anyone out.”

“The mayor requested the feature?” she asked.

“That’s right. He made it sound so good and, correct me if I’m wrong, the magazine hasn’t featured a Christmas town in a long time.”

“No, it’s been years.” America walked four steps to the door and opened the heavy glass panel. The fragrant pine branches in the vase seemed to smile at her, and she said, “I’ll think about it.”

CHAPTER3

The lift doorsopened to the sight of Poppy’s bright smile. “Well? What was all that about?” she asked.

“Let’s walk,” America said and made for her office. She trained her eyes on the polished floor and avoided any unnecessary conversations on her way. “Do I look as stunned as I feel?”

Poppy skipped ahead and halted America. “Let’s see here,” she said. With her hands, she manually straightened America’s shoulders and brushed non-existent dust from her sleeves. “You look completely normal. Should I be worried?”

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