Page 4 of The Clause in Christmas
Fortunately, his office felt a few degrees cooler than the reception area, and Cassie gratefully sank into the smooth leather of the club chair.
“First,” Luke said, gazing at her across the expansive oak desk with the most perfect hazel eyes Cassie had ever seen.
Drat.
She’d noticed his eyes. Mistake number one.
“Let me say how sorry I am about your grandmother,” Luke continued. “She was loved by everyone in Poppy Creek and has been missed by all of us.”
Cassie squirmed, causing the slick upholstery to squeak as she shifted her weight. “Thanks.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her own feelings on the subject would take a slew of shrinks to untangle.
Luke cleared his throat. “About your grandmother’s will…”
Cassie held her breath, waiting eagerly for those magic words:She’s left you her charming, picturesque cottage, which is sure to fetch you a small fortune.But the only noise filling the silence resembled something sharp tapping against metal. Glancing down, Cassie realized she’d been strumming her fingernails against her thermos. She quickly set it on the desk, not wanting to reveal her scrambled nervesorhow desperately she needed this inheritance. The truth was, she could only afford to pay rent for one more month. After that…
Clearing his throat again, Luke reached into a file drawer and pulled out a festively printed binder of sorts. “The details of the will are… unusual.”
Panic rose in Cassie’s throat, but she swallowed it down, scooting toward the edge of the chair. “You mean there’s a contingency? Like a waiting period or something?”
“Something like that.” He placed the binder on the desk and slid it toward her.
Cassie stared at the garish red-and-green plaid fabric with the wordsChristmas Calendarstretched across it in gold foil lettering. “What’s this?”
“This is your grandmother’s Christmas Calendar.” He said the words as though having something called a Christmas Calendar was the most commonplace thing in the world.
“I don’t understand.”
“Here’s the thing.” Luke took a deep breath, stretching his sweater across his broad chest in a way that made Frosty’s eyes bulge.
What was a grown man doing wearing such a ridiculous sweater, anyway? Cassie steered her attention back to Luke’s face, trying to focus while he explained the fine print that could change her entire life.
“There’s a small clause in your grandmother’s will. To inherit the house, you have to complete her Christmas Calendar. For each day in December, she’s listed a different festive task for you to carry out until you reach December 25. As the executor of her will, I’ll oversee your progress. If you can check off each day’s task, come Christmas day, the house will be yours.”
Cassie nearly fell off the chair. He couldn’t be serious! “Please, tell me you’re joking.”
“Afraid not.”
“But that’s crazy!”
“I’ll admit it’s unorthodox.”
“It’s certifiable!” Cassie sprang to her feet and paced the hardwood floor. “I don’t know how you do things in this town, but you can’t—you can’t expect me to…” She halted mid-stride and whirled back around. Flipping open the Christmas Calendar to a random page, she read, “Make a gingerbread house.”
“A house for a house.” Luke chuckled at his own joke.
“This isn’t funny.”
His eyes still dancing, Luke muffled his laughter behind a cough. “Of course. And no one is forcing you to do anything. If you don’t want the house, then…” He reached for the Calendar.
Cassie squeezed her eyes shut. Sheneededthe house. She’d applied for several dozen jobs in the past few months and had been rejected by all of them. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. But could she really do this? The so-called most wonderful time of the year had only brought her heartache. And the mere suggestion of theChristmas Calendar made her insides clench. But at this point, did she have a choice?
“Wait.” Cassie opened her eyes, and before she could change her mind, blurted, “I’ll do it.”
“Great.” Luke rose and handed her the Calendar. “You have a few days until December 1. I suspect you’ll need some time to settle in.”
Cassie squashed a groan. She hadn’t thought about that. “I’ll need to go back home to pack a few things. Since I’ll be staying a while, apparently.” She tried not to sound as bitter as she felt. But honestly, what were these people thinking? It wasn’t as if her grandmother had known she didn’t have a job—or a life—that would preclude her from carrying out the ridiculous clause.
“Of course. As long as you’re back by the first.” Luke pulled a small envelope from the top drawer of his desk. “You’ll find the key to your grandmother’s house inside, as well as directions from Main Street. It’s the last cottage at the end of Walnut Lane. You can’t miss it.” He held it out to her, then paused, appearing conflicted. “I realize all of this might be a tad inconvenient. If you’d like a letter explaining things to your place of employment…”
