Chapter 9

nine

STERLING

I slept better than I should have in a bed that was still unfamiliar and with a bed partner who definitely was. I didn’t do relationships. I did one-night stands and I did not, as a rule, invite the guy to stay over in my very minimalist, very beige apartment. But the rules had taken a break in Christmas Falls, probably because this place felt less like a change of scenery and more like an actual alien planet when compared with my regular life, and it had felt nice to sleep with Harvey beside me. I’d woken up a few times when he’d shifted, or snuffled, and I’d smiled each time in the darkness when my sleepy brain remembered who was there with me. And now, with the morning light filtering through the curtains, I took a moment to prop myself up on one elbow and take Harvey in.

I couldn’t say he looked like an angel when he slept, not with his face violently smooshed into my pillow like that. But he was breathing, so it didn’t seem like anything I had to intervene in. He just looked like Harvey—a little ridiculous, a lot cute, and probably dreaming of girl detectives and Christmas trivia. I resisted the urge to brush his hair off his forehead, and instead slipped out of bed and into last night’s clothes, gross underwear notwithstanding, of course.

I thought of what Harvey had said last night about gas station snacks, and figured that at least the coffee from there—hot chocolate for Harvey—had to be better than the Pear Tree’s. I left the room quietly, closing the door softly so Harvey could keep sleeping.

It was another cold, bright day in Christmas Falls, and my eyes watered when the breeze first hit me. I blinked away the tears and crossed the street. The gas station wasn’t directly across the road, but the walk was very short.

I was inspecting the selection of donuts when my phone buzzed. I looked at the screen, winced, and answered it.

“James, good morning.”

“Good morning, Mr. Van Ruyven,” he said, with a note of anxiety in his tone I hadn’t yet managed to train him out of. It was like he thought I was going to yell at him every time I spoke. To be fair to him, he had been my father’s PA first—a terrible month for everyone involved, honestly—so his concern wasn’t without cause. “I know you said not to bother you while you were taking personal days, but I thought you should know that there’s a board meeting scheduled for next week. I wanted to be sure you were advised, just in case you weren’t checking your emails. Not that you should be checking your emails if you don’t want to, just?—”

“I get it, James, thank you.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I wasn’t aware there was a meeting, so I appreciate the heads-up. Do we know what it’s about?”

“No, sir,” James said. “But Mr. Van Ruyven—Patrick—is coming.”

“Patrick hates coming into the city.” My father’s cousin was something of a recluse, which, in his case, was a synonym for asshole. We had a lot of synonyms for asshole in my family.

“That’s what I thought.”

Something was up, clearly. Patrick didn’t have enough support on the board to force my father’s hand in anything—though he’d sure as shit tried in the past—or did he? What did he know that I didn’t? Was it about Freddy? Surely there was no way Patrick could know I was off looking for Freddy.

Patrick had been pushing for years to try to gain a controlling interest in the company, but none of the other board members, most of them cousins of some description, would budge from supporting my grandfather’s decisions. But Grandfather’s death made everything a little uncertain; my father didn’t have the same level of support.

What if Patrick had found out what I was up to? I didn’t like my chances of finding Freddy. The most I could hope for was probably to discover that he had passed away like Gabe Baum. But what if Patrick knew I was here, and thought it was because I’d uncovered something concrete? The thought of another Van Ruyven out there, one who could vote either with or against him, might cause Patrick, and maybe even the rest of the board, to act rashly. Who the hell knew what he was planning for Wednesday?

In the corner of my eye, Christmas lights blinked on and off around the large windows that overlooked the gas station forecourt, and faint, tinny carols played in the background. Both things felt incongruous right now. I was here for business, wasn’t I?

“When is this board meeting?”

“Wednesday.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be back before then, but keep me updated, whatever you hear.”

I ended the call and stared blankly at the donuts while I tried to remember what I was doing that didn’t involve whatever Patrick’s latest bullshit was.

Right.

Donuts and coffee. Hot chocolate for Harvey.

And this morning would be about a million times better if breakfast and Harvey were my only priorities.

A dancing Santa on the counter swirled his hips and ho-ho-hoed in agreement.

Later that morning, after sharing a gas station breakfast with Harvey, he dropped me off downtown before he went home to get showered and changed for work. I went to Jolly Java, snagged a seat, and started on my second cup of coffee of the day. It was a lot better than my first. I was meeting Harvey for lunch, and then we were going to chase up another lead on the photograph. Yesterday, Travis Jones had said he thought Cap Guy might be Matty Jessup, which gave us another name to follow.

I had an itch under my skin this morning that I didn’t like. I should have been relaxed and happy. I’d spent the night with Harvey, and he wasn’t just fun to be around—he was cute as hell and had made me come harder than I had in a long time. We had chemistry both in and out of bed, and maybe it was just because it was a short term fling and none of the usual rules of my life seemed to apply in Christmas Falls, but I liked it here. More accurately, I liked who I was when I was here, with Harvey. But instead of being able to enjoy the memories of last night, or even think some more about the actual reason I was here—finding out what had happened to Freddy—that itch under my skin just kept dragging me back to the family, to the board, and to the business. I didn’t like that this morning’s happiness felt so badly anchored that it could easily be blown off course by thoughts of home. I felt cheated of my afterglow, thanks to James’s call. Not that I blamed James for that. It was good that he was keeping me informed. Just...

Well, just fuck my life, I guessed.

On paper, it was an extremely good life. My work was influential, and I earned a hell of a lot of money doing it. I lived in an expensive apartment in the greatest city in the world, and, if I ever wanted to remember it was the greatest city in the world, I could book the family’s private jet to go and check out any other city for comparison anytime I wanted.

On paper, I had everything I ever wanted.

In practice, I was sitting in a coffee shop in Christmas Falls, staring intently into my coffee in the vain hope it would reveal all the universe’s secrets. Like why Christmas Falls in general, and Harvey Novak in particular, had thrown me for a hell of a loop.

“Ooh, careful the wind doesn’t change,” a woman said, sliding into the seat across from me, “or your face will get stuck like that.”

She was an old woman, possibly in her seventies, with a bright blue knitted cap pulled down tight over her frizzy gray curls, and eyes as bright as a bird’s.

I blinked at her in astonishment. “What?”

She tilted her head. “Actually, you could pull it off.” She held out her hand across the table. “I’m Sandra Novak. And you are?”

I shook her hand. “Sterling Van Ruyven. You must be Harvey’s grandmother.”

“And you must be the handsome stranger he’s been spotted around town with,” she said. Her smile was as brilliant as her grandson’s. “It’s stirring up all the gossips, which isn’t always an easy thing to do in Christmas Falls.”

“Oh, because not much happens here?”

“The opposite,” Sandra said, her eyes twinkling and her smile turning wicked. “We’re spoiled for choice. There’s so much going on that it’s almost impossible to keep up.” She lowered her voice. “I hear Nancy from the animal shelter has finally made a move on Jim.”

“Good for them?” I asked.

“It’s been a long time coming. Now, I’m on my way to Holiday Hope Foundation, but I just had to stop in here and introduce myself when I saw you sitting here, and to ask you to come have dinner at the house one night soon, since Harvey hasn’t invited you yet.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s been working with me on a research project,” I said, recalling what Harvey had been telling everyone we spoke with around town.

“Sterling,” Sandra said, eyes still sparkling, “I know Harvey didn’t come home last night. Do you know how I know?”

I shook my head.

“Because I caught him sneaking in after breakfast, wearing yesterday’s clothes. That’s a hell of a research project you two are undertaking.” She stood, her smile softening. “It’s clear you two are friends, so I’d like it if you came to dinner. If it doesn’t get in the way of your research, of course.”

“I...I’ll bear that in mind, thank you,” I managed, and Sandra gave me a little wave and headed for the exit.

I finished my coffee and left the shop. I didn’t have any real destination in mind; I was just killing time. And, since I didn’t have a car, I was killing it exclusively in the little downtown area that was called Santa’s Village on all the tourist maps. The streets here could have been designed by Hallmark. The storefronts were bristling with that small town charm to begin with, and the Christmas charm that had been laid over the top of it had been put on thick . All the storefronts had seasonal displays in the windows, most of them lit by twinkling lights, and the lamp posts and street signs were wrapped with garlands. The street signs were even topped with illuminated red bows.

I found myself at a bookstore called Season’s Readings, and went inside to soak up the warmth for a little while. The store had a good selection of books and gifts, and I poked around in the small local history section for a few minutes, until a young woman with frizzy hair and freckles came over to see if I needed help with anything.

“I’m just browsing,” I said. “But I don’t suppose you’d have anything on Christmas Falls in the nineties? Or on the history of the festival itself?”

She hummed. “Sorry, no. Our local histories are mostly either about the founding of Milton Falls, or when it was renamed Christmas Falls. Nothing from the nineties, really. The local historical society has put out some booklets on the festival, I think, but we don’t have any in stock right now. Oh, you know where you could find them?” Her expression brightened. “At the museum !”

“Oh, of course,” I said, and wondered if it would be weird to show up at the museum before I was meant to meet Harvey for lunch. Then I nodded while the young woman, who must have been the only person in town who didn’t know Harvey had been spotted hanging out with a stranger, gave me directions to the museum.

I thanked her, and left the bookstore.

This wasn’t weird, right?

My footsteps quickened when the museum came into sight, and not just because I was looking forward to getting out of the cold again. There were a few people exiting the building, some clutching purchases from the Arts and Crafts Fair. When I got inside, I could hear voices and laughter coming from the fair and, as with most places in this town, a background soundtrack of Christmas carols. The museum was silent.

I opened the door to the museum, my gaze going straight to Harvey’s desk. My heart sank a little when I saw that it was empty, but then I heard his voice from the next room: “He’s terrifying, isn’t he? Apparently during the parade, one of his gloves came off, and he kept waving with his exposed metal claw. But it’s our most popular exhibit.”

A moment later he appeared in the doorway. He froze for a moment when he saw me, and then smiled and flushed.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.” His flush deepened as he closed the space between us. “It’s not lunchtime already, is it?”

“No. I just thought I’d come and have a look at more of those boxes in the storeroom,” I said. “If that’s okay. I’m trying to get more of a feel for the town in the nineties.”

I was trying to see what Freddy had seen, but maybe I didn’t need to look through a bunch of detritus in a cardboard box for that. Maybe all I had to do was look at Harvey to understand what was so special about Christmas Falls. When Freddy had looked at Cap Guy, did his heart thump the same way mine did?

“Sure!” Harvey lowered his voice. “I wish I could help, but these people want to know about everything .”

“You love it,” I said, and knocked my shoulder against his.

He stifled what sounded like the start of a giggle with his palm, turning it into a snort. “Yeah, I do love it, actually.”

“I met your grandmother,” I told him, just to see his expression morph into one of horror. “She invited me to dinner.”

“Oh god.” He buried his face in his hands briefly, before straightening up again. “You can ignore that. It would be too weird, right?”

I almost smiled at the realization I wasn’t the only one trying to figure out what was weird and what wasn’t in this unprecedented thing that Harvey and I had fallen into. “I mean, I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” His brow creased and then he shrugged. “She does make a mean chicken pot pie.”

A voice yoo-hooed from the next room. Literally yoo-hooed.

“Ooh, my audience awaits.” Harvey’s eyes shone with mischief. “Meet you in the archive room when they’re gone?”

I liked the promise in his expression. “Hell, yes.”

He waggled his eyebrows in a way that was entirely unsexy, but made up for it by being ridiculous, and hurried back to the museum visitors.

I went to the archive room and pulled out the boxes we’d gone through last time. It really was a window into Christmas Past. Well, Christmas Falls Past. There was nothing in here that resembled any Christmases I’d ever known. Looking through the old photographs, the newspaper articles, the faded flyers, it was impossible not to smile at the happiness and joy that still shone through, decades later. I stared at a photograph of a group of people lining up to watch the parade. Had Freddy been in the crowd when this photograph was taken? Had he been as shocked by Christmas Falls as I had been? Had he wondered what they were hiding too, because nobody was this naturally nice; there had to be some angle they were playing?

In the case of Christmas Falls, the obvious angle was that the festival had saved their small town, but that didn’t mean the joy and the kindness wasn’t real. I’d experienced too much of it here to doubt it. The people here actually looked after each other because it was the right thing to do. Which was the sort of mind-blowing revelation I really hadn’t been prepared for.

Had Freddy been as unprepared for Christmas Falls as I was?

I wondered, again, why he’d come here in the first place. Had he been following Cap Guy, or had he only met him once he was here? I might never know. That was life, I guessed. You didn’t always get an answer. And it wasn’t as though the mystery mattered. I cared whether or not Freddy was alive or dead. I cared about finding that out without anyone on the board, or in the family—which was the same thing in most cases —discovering what I was doing. That was the purpose of my visit to Christmas Falls. Except it didn’t explain why, when I looked at Harvey and felt the warmth of his smile, I found myself wondering if Freddy had been happy here too. Had Cap Guy brightened up Freddy’s world? Had he even realized it was so horribly fucking beige before meeting him?

I pulled out a few more photographs. A little girl sat on her father’s shoulders, open-mouthed with delight as she pointed at the passing parade. A pair of teenage girls bought cotton candy from a stall. A group of kids threw snowballs at each other in what was possibly Sugar Plum Park. I didn’t know if these people were residents, or if they were tourists drawn here by the promise of Christmas joy to be had and shared. The next photographs were of carolers, ice skaters, and elves. I recognized one or two familiar locations around Christmas Falls. That wasn’t so much a sign I’d been here for any significant amount of time, just a reminder that despite its huge heart, this was a very small town.

I went through the rest of the archive box and then started on the next one before it occurred to me Harvey hadn’t come and interrupted me yet. I checked my phone and realized at least thirty minutes had passed. Were the museum visitors really that invested in every exhibit? There wasn’t that much to see, surely.

I put the lid back on the box and let myself out of the archives.

The main area was empty, but I could hear Harvey’s voice coming from the next room. His tone didn’t sound as friendly as usual, and unease prickled my skin as I hurried to find him. When I stepped into the room with the mechanical Santa, I wasn’t surprised to see Steven, Harvey’s ex, standing there. He was pointing a camera in Santa’s direction, but his gaze was pinned to Harvey.

Harvey looked tense, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and his arms folded across his chest.

“Hi,” I said, and crossed the room, closing the space between us. I leaned in and pecked his cheek, and ran a soothing hand down his arm. “There you are.”

Harvey unfurled like a sea anemone, and even managed a smile. “Here I am.”

I kept an arm around him as I turned to face Steven. “Stuart, wasn’t it?”

“Steven,” he corrected, his tone a little sharp.

“Oh, sorry,” I lied. “So you’re here for the—what was it, again? Photos of the museum for a new tourist brochure?”

“That’s right.” Steven snapped a quick picture of mechanical Santa. “I didn’t realize you’d be here too.”

I ’ ll bet.

“Oh, I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d stop by and take Harvey out to lunch.”

Steven’s expression soured, but Harvey’s brightened.

I remembered how I’d offered to play the fake boyfriend with him when we’d just met. It would have gone something like this, I guessed, except nothing about this scenario felt fake at all. Was Harvey my boyfriend? No, what we had was too new, too nebulous, to carry the weight of a label like that. Harvey was someone I liked, someone with whom I had amazing chemistry, and someone I ultimately wouldn’t know for more than a week. I had a life in New York, and he had one here, and a few days wasn’t enough to uproot our entire lives. You didn’t take a gamble like that on a “what if” situation. Hell, in my family there was no such thing as gambling when it came to relationships. New relationships didn’t come with flowers and chocolates in the Van Ruyven family, they came with attorneys. An engagement was accompanied with an ironclad prenup, and a breakup with an NDA. Romantic stuff.

I tried to imagine my parents involved in a spirited discussion about who was better, Nancy Drew or Trixie Belden. I had no idea what they talked about when they were alone, but I bet it was nothing like that.

Their loss.

“I would love to go to lunch,” Harvey said. “I’m sure Steven won’t take too much longer. Will you, Steven?”

Another sour look, and a grunting sound that might have been agreement.

I might have waltzed in here with the intention of making Steven jealous; now, with my arm around Harvey, he was the last thing on my mind. I wanted to go and get burgers with Harvey, and talk about childhood books and Christmas trivia, and pretend, just for a little while longer, that I didn’t need to go back to New York for any of the family’s bullshit at all.

It might not have been Christmas anywhere else in the world, but it was always Christmas in Christmas Falls, and for once I knew exactly what I wanted.