Chapter 1

1

The lines before him blurred. Everything went out of focus. He didn’t want to do anything but crawl underneath his desk and hide from the world.

A loud beep had him jumping in his seat.

Bryce hit the intercom button that would patch him through to his secretary, Rebecca—a godsend that he wouldn’t be able to live without. Right now, he wished nothing existed, even her and her coordinated and organized ways.

“Yes, Becca.” He made sure to add in the cheeriness. If she knew he had too many troubles on his mind, she’d force him to spill them all. She could bulldoze through any problem. Most times, it was a brilliant thing to witness. But this latest problem…

Well, no one could save his marriage. Not even him.

“She’s here.”

Oh damn.

The very person he’d been trying to avoid all week had decided she’d had enough of his absence.

“Ms. Lila Hansley.”

So not his wife.

A glance at his open planner lying on his desk told him exactly who she was and why he shouldn’t be surprised. It’d been jotted down there for the past week.

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Becca. I’ll be right out.” Well, as soon as he composed himself and looked like the professional he was.

The damn mayor of Sleighville.

His office was the largest on the floor. Not that he had demanded any such thing when he took office. It had always been that way. The building was built in the early 1900s, many positions shuffling around the building. At one time, over fifty years ago, the head judge had occupied the room. The whole floor had been designated for the judges and lawyers, until one mayor had decided they didn’t like being cooped up in a tiny room on the first floor as if insignificant. The two departments swapped floors and it’d been like that ever since.

It was an honor to hold the position, and it wasn’t one he took lightly either.

He checked himself in the mirror, even though he knew not even a strand of hair would be out of place. A nasty habit he’d developed because every time he was around Denise, she nitpicked every part of him. Your tie is crooked. Your hair is flat. Your shirt needs to be tucked in better. Why is there a scuff mark on your shoe? To avoid those remarks, he always double-checked—hell, triple and quadruple checked—his appearance.

He couldn’t even remember when the snide remarks started in the marriage. But he knew he would’ve never married her if she’d displayed that dark part of her before they tied the knot.

Just as he took his job seriously, his marriage was no different. He might be the unhappiest he’d ever been in life, but he’d never ask for a divorce.

She took the option out of his hands, demanding one.

He let out a small breath before walking out of his office with the friendly mayoral smile he wore around town.

“Ms. Hansley. Welcome to Sleighville. I hope your travels were pleasant.” He walked up to the woman seated in one of the chairs against the wall and held out his hand.

She stood and shook hands. Though she wore a smile, he swore it was as fake as his own.

“Roads were a bit rough, but I made it in one piece so I can’t complain.”

She rubbed her hand on her thigh. He couldn’t be sure if it was a nervous gesture or her trying to rub his germs off. Was his hand sweaty? Was the turmoil he’d been suffering in his office sticking with him? He could normally shake that off with a flick of his wrist.

“Let’s chat in my office. Becca, if it’s not too much trouble, could you get us some hot chocolate?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, it’s not necessary.”

Becca and Ms. Hansley stared at each other after speaking at the same time. Becca wasn’t one to lose a battle, if a person wanted to consider the simple request one. But she knew how important this meeting was. How vital it was to their little town for everything to work out.

“After such a long, dreary drive, hot chocolate is the perfect thing for you. No one does it better than Sleighville.” Becca widened her cheery smile with a hint of determination and walked away before Ms. Hansley could argue.

As a general rule, he didn’t ask Becca to run and get him any kind of drink. As his secretary, she had a tremendous amount of work to do, and adding on a task he was quite capable of handling on his own wasn’t fair—not in his eyes. But he wasn’t sure if he was up to the task. His nerves still hadn’t settled after reading the document he had—for the billionth time. The last thing he wanted to do was spill hot chocolate all over himself and their guest.

He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk, then rounded it and sat down, scooping up the papers and shoving them into the top drawer. He’d worry about all those troubles later.

“My apologies, Ms. Hansley. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Bryce Stuart, the mayor of Sleighville.”

Which, of course, she knew. That had been her destination from the beginning. But as a professional, it should’ve been the first thing he had done. Introduce himself.

“You can call me Lila.”

He leaned back in his chair, though not too loose as to imply he didn’t have good posture or anything, but he wanted her to feel at ease. If using their first names also helped, then he was all for it. Not that he was big on people calling him Mr. Mayor or anything. He tended to be a pretty informal guy. He wanted to feel approachable and liked.

“I insist you call me Bryce. I want everything to go smoothly between us.”

She smiled, yet said nothing else.

Another fake smile, if he had to guess.

He shouldn’t be surprised by her lack of enthusiasm. The task before her would be enormous. Not many wanted to take it on. He didn’t even want to deal with it.

The past summer had not been kind to their small town. Finding out one of its trusted members was a disgusting pervert had been hard to swallow. A man who had been involved in things like the Fourth of July festival, the Labor Day parade, and Thanksgiving events. Not to mention all the festivities when the actual Christmas holiday rolled around.

As a town that celebrated Christmas every day of the year, it had to keep up its appearance and feel welcoming and safe.

Mark Wilson had had access to all the places in town for rent, considering his sister was the realtor who dealt with it all. With that privilege, he’d turned it into a nightmare. He’d installed cameras in all the properties, spying on people, ruining their privacy. Making them feel wholly violated.

Since he’d been caught, the newspapers hadn’t been kind. The media tore their town apart and painted it as the worst place to visit.

It killed them the last few months. Even in December, two months ago, when the real Christmas arrived, tourism had plummeted to the point most places struggled to stay open. For a town that lived off the festive holiday, it was unacceptable. Bryce had been forced to hire a public relations company to turn their image around. To get people to love Sleighville again.

Here sat the answer to all his problems—well, the town’s problems—right in front of him. Lila Hansley would be their savior.

Hopefully.

It had taken contacting five PR companies before one accepted the job. Since he started with the best first, he hoped he hadn’t gotten the rotten of the pile.

The woman herself was put together. She sat poised with a determined look on her face. The weather wasn’t great, and for February, not a surprise. He didn’t expect all women to wear skirts or anything, even if that was a fashion statement his wife thought was a must. Lila wore black slacks with a white blouse and a sharp-looking blazer over it. Black, sensible high heels. Nothing too pointy and difficult to walk in, but not plain either. Another thing Denise would’ve snickered at. She thought all women should wear shoes that killed their feet—even themselves—or why bother leaving the house.

Her blonde hair was down, not pulled into a fancy chignon Denise loved to wear. Soft waves that he wasn’t sure if they were natural or if she put the effort into it and curled it. When Juliet, his sister, had a special event or a date, she curled her hair, otherwise she liked to throw it in a messy ponytail and out of her face.

And why was he focusing on the woman’s hair? He had more important things to attend to.

“What did you think of the town as you drove in?”

First impressions were everything. Some tourists became regular visitors when they happened to drive through without realizing it was a town that celebrated Christmas year-round.

“Well—” She paused when Becca strolled back into the office.

“Hot, steaming cup of hot chocolate. I promise you, the best you’ve ever had.”

Becca set a cup in front of him and the other near Lila. She departed before Lila had a chance to pick it up and take a sip. She wasn’t one to hover. At least, she picked and chose when to do so. Becca knew now was not the time to get into Lila’s face. That was his job.

He grabbed his mug, a white cup with Santa and his eight reindeer wrapped around the ceramic piece. Lila’s had a bunch of elves dancing.

“Cheers. Here’s to Christmas.”

He held out his mug, hoping his cheeriness was just right. His smile just as perfect. The inflection in his tone showing none of the tension he’d been drowning in earlier.

A tiny, invisible breath released before she picked up her mug. At least, she hoped it hadn’t been witnessed. She didn’t need this man to know she was in way over her head with this project.

She liked to think all the many jobs she had over the years prepared her for anything. Like now. Being a world-class actress. She’d been an extra in two movies a few years ago. They were B flicks and never even made it to the theater, but still. She also hadn’t had any lines, more like a silhouette in the background. But again, still. She’d been an actress once. She could pretend right now.

“Cheers.” With a light clink, she met his mug with her own. Though her hand shook, and she was grateful she didn’t spill a drop of the hot drink. No need to embarrass herself—yet.

“Well?”

His smile didn’t ease any of the discomfort swimming through her veins. What was he expecting from her? That the hot chocolate was as divine as Becca had promised.

“It’s delicious.” She squinted, taking another sip and swirling it in her mouth. “Do I detect a bit of Baileys in it?”

The mayor, for the first time, showed his own discomfort, and it helped to reduce a teeny portion of hers.

“I cannot confirm nor deny that. I don’t prepare the hot chocolates around here. I only drink them.”

She giggled, then snorted. Her eyes widened at the faux pas, mortified she let that slip out. But when she found something hilarious, she couldn’t help herself. It went from an innocent giggle to a snort in the blink of an eye.

He leaned forward and his smile brightened even more, and this time she sensed it wasn’t as fake as all the other ones had been. Not the smarmy politician smile that thought it would convince anyone to do anything.

“I also taste some peppermint. The ton of mini marshmallows add a special touch. And the cinnamon on top is delicious.” When one wanted to avoid further embarrassment, pretend it never happened. At least, that was her motto in life.

Whether he wanted to avoid the truth, she knew better. There was no doubt in her mind Becca had added a splash of Baileys in the hot chocolate. She would know. She’d bartended for five months. It’d been an intense five months behind the bar, learning drink after drink, and because she couldn’t help herself, taste testing lots of liquor. Her partner in crime at the time, Manny, insisted that a bartender shouldn’t merely know how to make a drink, they needed to know how it should taste to perfection. She could make a mean chocolate martini, and one of the key ingredients was Baileys.

“I’m glad you like it. A touch of Christmas here and there is what we’re known for.”

A touch of Christmas?

More like Christmas threw up everywhere.

He relaxed back in his chair again. “I’d love to know your thoughts about the drive into town.”

Horrifying!

“It felt…welcoming.”

The first large sign she had seen, she cringed. Welcome to Sleighville. Where you are sure to have a holly, jolly time.

Honestly, there was nothing to change there because she knew it was a slogan meant to instill the holiday spirit. At this point in time, changing the town name itself was out of the question. But Sleighville? Maybe it was the horror fan inside her, but her mind went dark hearing the name. Like a slasher film about to come alive.

Bryce’s smile died and a slight huff escaped. She imagined he hadn’t meant to reveal that when he straightened his body as if that would erase the sound he’d emitted.

“What didn’t you like?”

Well, the town name didn’t help its case. The sign itself was decent. Then driving down Main Street and seeing the Christmas lights strung up in all the window shops. Santa and his reindeer hanging out in the middle of the square. A large Christmas tree near them lit up in its glory. Some shops had Valentine’s decorations mixed in as well, and it all looked…odd.

Where did she begin?

Not with the truth.

Because the truth was she didn’t like Christmas.

She wouldn’t go as far as hate because, well, that was a strong word and she rarely used it unless necessary. But when the holiday rolled around, she didn’t get into all the hoopla surrounding it. She bought presents, but only when it was mandatory. Like the secret Santa exchange her work insisted on this past year. Of course, for her family as well because she wasn’t a complete Scrooge.

“I can’t say anything I didn’t particularly like. It all screams Christmas when you drive through town. If it weren’t February, I’d think the holiday was approaching for real. That’s a good start to a great image. That’s what you want to portray.”

She said it so professionally and like she knew what the hell she was talking about. Yay her!

“Okay, that’s good. You had me worried for a second.”

She waved her hand in the air as if telling him not to worry at all. Everything would work out splendidly.

“The problem is, you need more merriness.” If a bathroom were nearby, she would’ve rushed out and puked after saying that. Lying never felt right to her, but in this job, she’d learned that telling the truth put you in the hot seat.

Case in point—stuck on a mission to turn a Christmas town into the merriest place in the world when she disliked the holiday and screwed up her last PR campaign.

Her boss literally hated her.

His brilliant smile reappeared. “That’s why we hired you.”

She took another sip of her hot chocolate to stop from blurting out anything inappropriate. Like why in the hell he’d work with the shit company she continued to let boss her around.

“I’d love to know some of the ideas you have.” He leaned forward again as if excited about the prospect of inserting more cheeriness into the town. “You do have some ideas, right?”

She might not care for the holiday, and she despised her boss when he inflicted this assignment on her, but she was a professional. At all times. No matter the job she held at the moment.

Bending down to the ground where she set her bag, she then pulled out a manila folder. “I put together a few things I thought we could start with. This will not be a quick task. I read what happened and…” She couldn’t help but wince. “It is disturbing to think about. Especially for anyone wanting to even rent a place here. Is his sister still employed at the realtor’s office?”

Bryce shook his head. “She moved out of town after it all happened. The rental properties have suffered around town. It was a big part of revenue for quite a few residents. The city itself owns a few properties, and they haven’t been rented in at least three months. Big losses everywhere.

“My sister-in-law is Eve Carrington. She owns Carrington Hotels, a big chain down in Florida. She has a great idea to build small cottages around town. You know, really give that magical Christmas experience, though she has hit a snag with the board of directors. They want a hotel, and she wants cottages. They are at a stalemate right now.”

Most of what he said was good to know. She wasn’t quite sure why he mentioned his sister-in-law other than to brag. Because if the cottages weren’t even built, she didn’t care. There was nothing she could do with that. So she decided to ignore that piece of information.

“I would like to meet the new realtor. That is one place to start building a better image.”

“Of course.” Bryce pressed a button on the phone. “Becca, please set up a meeting with Joy. Lila would like to meet her.”

“I’m on it.”

Lila appreciated Becca’s confident response. She had no doubt that if Bryce asked for something—even something unattainable—Becca would make it happen. She had that poise about her.

“Her name is Joy?” She could feel another giggle rising to the surface, which meant a horrid snort would follow. She had to push it deep down so it wouldn’t escape.

“It wasn’t planned.” Bryce’s lips twisted into a short wince.

“It’s perfect. I love her name. We are going to roll with that.”

That confidence she recognized in Becca sprouted in Bryce. She liked the look on him as well.

A quick knock sounded on the doorframe. She twisted around to see a man dressed in uniform and it had her heart pumping in an instant. Why were the cops here?

“I don’t mean to interrupt.”

Bryce looked braced for the worst. “What happened?”

“The cafe’s on fire.”

Bryce jerked from his seat, shoving his chair back so hard it hit the wall behind him. “Juliet? Eve?”

“Both fine. Everyone got out, but the kitchen is in flames. I don’t know what went wrong yet.” The man looked at her. “Thank god you’re here. You can start with this debacle.”

A fire wasn’t her forte. If it started in the kitchen, then it sounded like an accident. It would make her job worse if it turned out not to be an accident.

By the grim looks on both their faces, she had a feeling she was stepping into chaos.