Page 320 of Screwged for Christmas

On some level, she knew something had changed yesterday with Aspen. He’d surprised her with first the sex and then the ice skates and at first, she’d wanted to run far and fast. Yet she hadn’t.

The way he looked at her spurred her into a frenzy of action. Aspen belonged in the past like her ice skates, but thatsomethingthat had changed between them chiseled at her resolve even now.

Sure sex changed people, but neither of them committed to anything but a little momentary fun. A fling with the past.

She shook her head to clear the trail of thoughts her brain wanted to follow instead of where it needed to be and fast. Getting her next job. And out of Dixen.

Ivy pressed the phone to her ear and waited as Mr. Langley’s secretary patched her through to his office. “I’m surprised to hear from you so early, Ms. Winters.” Mr. Langley spoke with a hybrid accent that bordered between New England and Old-World England as though he grew up between the two. His aging vocals lent his words a roughened edge that could easily be confused with James Earl Jones.

When she met Mr. Langley in person two days prior, his tailored suit, round spectacles and posh office located in the Wall Street sector of New York City confirmed everything she envisioned from his voice. Old money. Except, he had more experience in trading and corporate dealings than acting according to the collection of Time and Forbes magazine covers that adorned his office wall. Like her brother Jon, this man lived for the thrill of a business deal and that was why Mr. Langley agreed to the venture of a small inn for his wife several years back, she’d learned.

Ivy recognized the spark in his eye the second they met. To her, it all seemed very tedious and overwhelming to be in control of so many other’s futures.

“I’m sorry for missing our call the day before yesterday, Mr. Langley. I was in a small accident. Thank you for agreeing to reschedule.”

“Yes, yes. Of course, my dear. Nothing too serious I hope,” Mr. Langley offered with the proper hint of worry. As the senior member of one of the richest families in New York, every reaction he had was probably measured like his suits. All customized to fit each situation.

“Not at all. Just a little scary. A friend was there to help. I’m fine and ready to work. If you are still interested, that is.” She pulled her planner over and flipped to the day after Christmas.

“Yes, yes. Of course. Mrs. Langley is already anticipating your arrival, dear. I know it is short notice but my wife is determined to have the best for our son and his soon-to-be bride this coming spring.”

She eyed her planner and her attention traveled a little further until it landed on her gran’s open planner next to hers on the countertop. December twenty-sixth wasn’t too full. Baking, ice skating with the guests and preparing a large menu for New Year’s. A new set of guests was due to arrive that day too. She had to pray she found someone to take her place or pray Gran returned before Christmas. Maybe she could rope in her sister, Juniper to help out. The second half of the tornado twins lived for planning parties and would be dynamite.

“Hello? Ms. Winters.”

Oh. “Yes. Yes. I was just checking over my calendar. The day after Christmas is fine. Thank you and Mrs. Langley for such confidence.”

Even as the words came out unease took root.

“Your work speaks for itself. It came down to you and one other. You are our top pick seeing as you also know a lot about small inns and bed and breakfasts. We hope we are not taking you away from your family, but we simply cannot wait any longer. My wife and I are planning to give the inn to our son for his wedding gift this spring, as you know, and it’s high time we get on with our retirement.”

“Yes, I remember. It will make a lovely present. I promise to do my best.”

He chuckled lightly. “The wife and I are much too old to care for it ourselves anymore. We have to make the last of our years really count. We want to travel, enjoy ourselves before it is too late and let the younger, spunkier generation take on the workload of the small inn.” For the briefest of moments, Ivy had to wonder if he’d spoken with Gran.

During her meeting Ivy had learned Mrs. Langley didn’t care for the big city—a sentiment Ivy understood all too well the longer she lived in Seattle—and left the family business to Mr. Langley while she worked a small inn in upstate New York.

“I understand.” She briefly wondered if Langley Jr. knew what he was in for with his wedding ‘gift’ or if he would run from inheriting such a grand responsibility.

With that thought came another. Gran wasn’t getting younger and the tiredness she heard and saw in the Langleys tugged at a deeper thought. Was Gran in the same boat? Was she getting tired of running the B&B?

Ivy felt something shift in her mind. As though a deeper voice wanted her to see a larger picture but she couldn’t make out the blurred lines or jagged edges. She brushed it away along with another fanciful thought—what would she do with a place like this? Maybe Langley Jr. wasn’t so bad off after all. And Aspen? Being so close to him again was as though no time had passed between them at all.

She squirmed in place and cleared her throat along with her mind.

Get a grip, Ivy.

She had no business thinking like that. She tossed the idea like an unwanted Christmas present and to make sure it stayed gone she added, “I’ll reserve my flight now and email my schedule to your assistant, Mr. Langley.”

“Excellent, dear. The wife and I look forward to seeing the rest of the plans you have in mind for the inn. Now I’m being summoned to do my part in the Christmas festivities.”

She knew she had to take this job as much for her future as for her bank account. Adding Mr. Langley’s family name to her portfolio would secure client after client for the foreseeable future if she wanted to stay in this business too. Realistically, if she didn’t, where else would she go? What other options did she have? A small-scale B&B suddenly had its appeal.

“Have a good time, Mr. Langley. I’ll see you both then.”

With a flick of her thumb, she disconnected and set about booking her flight. With that done, she emailed Mr. Langley’s secretary as promised. Finished, she poured another cup of coffee and gazed out the kitchen window.

He’d taken the time to clear the ice of snow and she knew those skates didn’t magically appear by the bench. Aspen had placed them there. Soft sunshine glistened its good morning across the frozen expanse of the lake.

---