Page 11 of A Very Merry Mistake

“I don’t know how to describe him properly,” I admit. “Tall. Green eyes. Muscular. Carries axes in the back of his truck. He’s a lumberjack.”

“What actor would he be related to?”

“Chris Hemsworth,” I say without missing a beat. “But Chris with scruff along his perfect jaw line. Long lashes. Incredible smile. Smooth-as-chocolate voice with a strong Southern accent. And he has huge hands. Men like him only exist in fairytales.”

“Uh. And you’re staying at his house?”

“Apparently. I’m not sure for how long, though. It depends on how I feel tomorrow. You know how I get when my plans are disrupted.”

“I do. That all-or-nothing mentality will be your demise. But anyway, is he single?” I can tell she’s smiling.

“He says he is, but men lie.”

“You should take a picture of him when you can and send it to me.”

I chuckle. “We’ll see. I just want to make it through the night. My brain is mush, and I’m exhausted. The flight was awful. The luxury vehicle I reserved was rented to someone else. Then, when I showed up at the inn, the woman couldn’t find my reservation, which was embarrassing. It took everything in me to keep from having a panic attack.”

“When did you make your reservation?”

I think about her question for a moment. Then I remember asking my father’s assistant to take care of it.

“I had Gwyneth book it for me in January.”

“That was your first mistake,” Emma says.

“You’re right.” I open the app on my phone and search for the confirmation email she sent me. I immediately notice it was for an inn located in a different state. While I want to type her a strongly worded email, I should’ve paid more attention—but I was enamored with Dale at the time.

Everyone knows my dad’s secretary isn’t intelligent. The only reason she has a job is because she’s a side chick.

I’ve been so preoccupied with my drama that I didn’t double-check everything was in place. I gave her the benefit of the doubt. This is what I get for having faith that someone else will do their job correctly.

I close my app without doing anything that would alert someone to my absence. I’m sure Gwyneth forgot she booked this trip. At least this mishap will cover my tracks if my father snoops.

I change the subject and ask a question that’s on my mind. “When Dad retires, do you think I’ll be the one to take over?”

I know I’m putting Emma on the spot, something I don’t do often. We handle each other with care, but I also respect her opinion because she’s the only person who won’t bullshit me and tell me what I want to hear.

She sighs. “Oh, Claire. Should we talk about this right now? Aren’t you already having a bad enough day?”

“Yes, but—”

“It doesn’t matter what I say or think, okay? You’re smart. You’re beautiful. And you don’t need unnecessary stress. You’re in Merryville, so go be merry.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. I’m feeling…lost. Alone. And my bladder is so full I might pee myself. God, it just hit me.”

“You’re not supposed to hold it. You better go to the bathroom before you add a UTI to your very bad day.”

I look out the window, cringing at the thought of leaving the cozy truck but not knowing how long we will be here or how far away Jake lives. How long can I hold it? Two minutes? Five minutes? Ten? Absolutely not.

“You’re right. We’ll talk later?”

“Absolutely,” she says. “I need an update every twelve hours. And try to have a better night, okay?”

“Okay. I need to go.”

“Promise me.”

I immediately groan. “I promise. Bye.”

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