Page 5 of There's Only One Sleigh
He stares at me for a few seconds and then laughs in my face. Nat’s laughing, too, and I might have enjoyed their amusement if it wasn’t at my expense.
“She’s intense,” Donovan admits. “But she’s excellent at her job.”
“So she said.” I snort. “More than once, I think.”
“Whitney helping you was actually my idea,” Natalie confesses, her cheeks still pink from laughing.
My own sister did this to me? “Is this because of that time I used a Sharpie to draw mustaches and beards on all your Barbie dolls?”
Donovan was sipping coffee and we both look at him as he almost chokes. He manages to swallow it without spitting it all over us, so Nat turns back to me with narrowed eyes.
“I’ll never forgive you for that,” she says. “But no. This is your first time in charge of the Christmas fair, and Whitney is excellent at managing things. Take the help, Rob.”
“This might be the first time I’ve been in charge, but I’ve been attending the thing my whole life. And I’ve actually been in on the planning for several years. I’ve got this.”
“She’ll just help yougot thismore efficiently,” Nat says.
Donovan clears his throat. “There’s also…well, I like Whitney and I’ve been a little worried about her. She’s very driven, which is a good thing, but I don’t think she has a lot of family. And I get the impression the holidays are hard for her. She’s very disconnected from the whole festive vibe, and I’m hoping this will help her remember work isn’t everything. Maybe because I used to be her, until I met Natalie, I see her going down that same road.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Are you implying I’m supposed to be her Jacob Marley?”
“Absolutely not,” Donovan replies. “You should definitelynotsneak into Whitney’s room in the middle of the night, rattling your chains and making weird noises.”
Natalie snorts. “Way to make it awkward, honey.”
I laugh, but me sneaking into Whitney’s room in the middle of the night was a suggestion my imagination doesnotneed. I can still see the way her hips swayed, bumping the computer bag slung from her shoulder, as she walked out of the station.
“You love the fair,” Nat says. “There’s no better person to show her just howcharmingCharming Lake can be at Christmastime.”
“Maybe take that up with Santa, because you’re asking for a Christmas miracle.”
Chapter
Five
Whitney
I manage to find my way back to the Charming Inn—my home for the next two weeks—with only one wrong turn. And it’s hard to miss, being a massive, historical home overlooking the lake.
There aren’t any other vehicles in the guest parking, so my fellow visitors must be out and about. I haven’t met them, since I’m adept at avoiding the social areas during peak chatting time, but I know there’s a young child who loves to sing in one of the rooms, and a couple that doesn’t seem to like each other very much in another. Neither saysrelaxing vacationto me, but it’s irrelevant. I’m here to work.
I sling my computer bag over my shoulder and then, being very careful not to drop any of the papers stuck haphazardly between the covers, I grab the binder from the passenger seat. Once it’s tucked securely in my arm, I grab the fresh coffee I bought from the cupholder and go inside. Penny steps into the room when she hears the door. According to Donovan, whose in-laws own this place, Penny—who looks to be in her fifties, with pale blonde hair and curves for days—was hired to run the innafter Donovan swept Natalie off her feet and she wanted to travel with him more than she wanted to mind the family business.
“Welcome back, Miss Forrester,” Penny says. I tried to get her to call me by my first name when I checked in yesterday, but apparently that’s not her thing.
“Thank you. I’m probably going to spend the rest of the day working in my room.” I step out of my heels and, mindful of the binder and my coffee, crouch to hook my fingers in the backs of them.
“Let me know if you need anything,” she says before going back to whatever she’d been doing.
I make my way through the inn to the staircase. It’s lovely, as inns go, I guess. A nice balance of class and comfort without being too fussy. There are four rooms on the second floor, and an ADA accessible room on the first floor. And Penny’s space is on the third floor. I usually stay in hotels when I travel because nobody expects you to make small talk with strangers, but the Charming Inn is…well, it’s actually quite charming.
Once I’m behind my closed door, I place the binder on the bed, drop my shoes, and set the coffee and my bag on the small table I’m using as a desk. I sigh in relief as I unzip the skirt and step out of it. The blazer and shirt get tossed over the arm of the chair, and then I pop my earphones in.
In my camisole and briefs, I crank up the music and dance it out. Not wildly, of course. I don’t want Penny to wonder what I’m up to, but I move my body to two high energy songs before I take a really deep breath and slowly exhale.
It’s a habit I discovered during my first internship in college, when I had trouble transitioning from work time to not-working time. Not that there was a lot of time off then—ornow, to be honest—but the only way I could not burn out was to be more deliberate about relaxing. Stripping off the business armor anda few minutes of dancing lets my body know we’re done with the serious stuff and now we can chill.
I stick my earphones back in their case and make a quick trip to the (thankfully) ensuite bathroom before grabbing my coffee and notebook from the desk. The cup I set on the nightstand to keep it away from the binder, but the notebook I toss next to it. Then I sit cross-legged on the bed and open the cover.
