Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

The line at Kringle’s photobooth stretched around the corner. Addison Lockheart, the owner of the Bed and Biscuit dog hotel and groomers, wore a pair of fur antlers over her blonde hair and necklace of flashing Christmas bulbs. Joking with the crowd, she worked the line selling the organic dog biscuits she made in her shop. She’d also created a cutout Instagram slide for customers to stand behind while taking photos with the dog.

Kringle let out a bark of recognition when Elle walked up. His entire body shook with excitement, dislodging the little green elf’s hat tied to his head. Ryan posed for a few selfies with fans while Jane readjusted the dog’s hat.

“Wow. This is sick.” Elle lowered her voice so only Jane would hear. “At this rate you’ll be able to afford braces not just for Henry, but all your future kids.”

Jane blushed as she pointed at a sign near the booth. “The profits are being donated to the local SPCA.”

Elle pulled out her phone. “Aww. That makes the story even more uplifting. I’m going to interview some of the people in line. I can use it for the town’s website.”

She recorded her conversation with a family from Myrtle Beach and a couple from Wilmington. It was their first time in Chances Inlet.

“We are so glad you’re here,” Elle told them. “I hope you’ll check out the Christmas Bazaar while you’re in town. And don’t forget to grab a bite at one of our unique eateries.”

“My grandson says the afternoon tea at the Tide Me Over Inn is to die for,” a familiar voice said behind her.

Elle spun around to find Helen Keneally standing there. The woman looked ridiculously out of place. Her oversized Chanel sunglasses and Burberry coat were more suited for the Hamptons than a balmy December afternoon in coastal Carolina.

“M—Mrs. Keneally. What are you doing here?” Elle was proud of herself for not asking if a hurricane had blown the woman’s private jet off course.

“I’m on my way to spend the holidays in Palm Beach.” She glanced around. “I thought I’d stop in to see what all the fuss is about.”

Elle braced herself for condescending remarks like the ones her grandson made the last time he’d come home with her.

“I must say this is even more charming than those small towns you see in the television Christmas movies.” Helen pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. “No wonder Jeremy recommended it so highly.”

The mystery of why Jeremy advocated Chances Inlet to his grandmother hadn’t been solved. But Elle knew it wasn’t because he thought her hometown was “charming.” Not that she would argue the point with her boss’ boss. She leaned on her manners, instead.

“You’ve come on a good day. The Christmas Bazaar is always a fun time.”

“Is that Santa’s dog?”

“Um, yes. Well, sort of. He belongs to my brother’s stepson-to-be now.”

“That was a very moving piece you wrote about him.” Helen tapped her chest right over her heart. “Very moving. You are going to make a wonderful columnist, Elinor.”

Funny how the words didn’t sound as appealing as they did a couple of weeks ago.

“I was hoping to catch West while I was in town. There was no sign of him when I stopped by the inn. That’s very troubling to me, Elinor. Since I don’t have the completed manuscript in my hands, I have to assume he’s still writing it. The question is, where?”

Elle’s mouth went dry. “Uh?—”

Helen tilted her head to the side. “Madelaine has been conveying your updates to me. You’ve told her the book is almost complete. Is that not true?”

Well, shit.

If Elle’s career wasn’t on the line, she’d grab Emily and Henry to share a teachable moment about lying. As in, don’t do it. You only get caught in the end.

She’d been keeping out of West’s way for days now. Maybe he’d surprise her by producing a Christmas miracle of a completed manuscript. Of course, he could just as easily be spending his days locked up in the study designing a snowman built out of sand.

Helen’s eyes narrowed. The older woman could probably smell the fear wafting off her.

“Is West even in this town?”

“Yes. Of course. He likes to work at the bookstore some days. For inspiration. Or something like that . . .” Elle’s voice trailed off.

Helen’s shoulders relaxed. Like Elle, the woman had a lot riding on West finishing his book. “Thank God for that. And thank God he’s not at the bar. Let’s go find our renegade author, shall we?”

Elle said a silent prayer West wasn’t holding down a seat at Pier Pressure. With Helen trudging across the town square alongside her, she couldn’t even text the man to see where he might be. Not that he ever answered. His texts seemed to go only one way, drat him.

Helen stopped short when they entered the bookshop.

“Oh, my. I can see why West prefers to work here.” She took in the colorful displays, stopping at the new releases table to peruse for titles she’d published, Elle presumed.

Elle tried to flag down Paige, but the store was bursting at the seams with customers. Tanner was helping her out by working the point-of-sale computer at the front of the store.

“I’ll just go check for West.” Elle hurried to the back of the store, hoping to have a moment to warn the dratted man, only Helen was right on her heels.

Of course, he wasn’t there. Elle was never that lucky.

Everett was sure he had to be hallucinating. That couldn’t be Helen Keneally trailing in Gidget’s wake as they made their way across The Green. He wasn’t aware he had the power to make someone appear just by mentioning them. If he did, Keeley would have returned to him two years ago.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered.

“Who is that?” Kitty asked.

He huffed out a surprised laugh. “Believe it or not, that is the dragon lady herself. Helen Keneally.”

“The publisher you just mentioned?”

“One and the same.”

Kitty stared out the window, watching the two women approach the bookshop next door. “What’s she doing in Chances Inlet?”

Given that they were striding toward his favorite hiding space, he had to guess Helen was looking for him. That could only mean one thing: part of his plan was already in motion.

“Not sure,” he told Kitty. “But I’m going to find out.”

He left through Knotical’s back door and hurried in through the delivery entrance of the bookstore. The storage room butted up to the small reading nook Everett had commandeered the past couple of weeks. He stood behind the curtain separating the two rooms and listened.

“It’s pretty crowded here today.” Gidget was trying her best to cover for him. “He might have gone back to the inn to work.”

He swore he could hear Helen grinding her teeth.

“I just left there. No one has seen him all day. Or yesterday, for that matter.”

“West prefers to work at his own pace. You really don’t have anything to worry about, though, Mrs. Keneally. He’s assured me he’ll be done by the end of the year, and I believe him.”

Peeking through the crack in the drapes, he could see Gidget crossing her fingers behind her back.

“That’s your first mistake.” Helen snorted. “I believed him when he said he’d have the book to me two months ago. Now he’s reneging on his option for a second book. The man’s word is no good.” She pointed a finger at Gidget. “You had one job. That was to make sure the man delivers his book on time.”

“And I will.”

Helen’s laugh lacked any humor. “You don’t even know where the damn man is! I should listen to my lawyers and sue the idiot. He’s lost his mojo. West is never going to finish that book.”

“He hasn’t lost his mojo.”

Everett was so stunned by Gidget’s staunch defense of him, he froze in place.

“In fact, the book is finished,” she lied. “He’s taking these last few weeks to polish it up.”

A charged silence fell over the nook.

“He told you this?” Helen asked. Her tone indicated she didn’t believe one word her employee said.

Gidget nodded. “Even better. I’ve read through the final chapters. They are as captivating as the rest of the book. You’ll be pleased. So will your readers.”

Some of the steam seemed to leave Helen. “You do realize what you stand to lose here, Elinor?”

“I’m a McAlister, Mrs. Keneally. We don’t lose.”

Everett resisted the urge to jump from behind the curtain and applaud her bravado. Or chastise her for her ill-advised recklessness. He suspected it was the latter and not the former making her spout her nonsense. Gidget was desperate for the carrot Helen dangled on a string. She’d rather chase a promotion than settle for love.

He hated how much that disappointed him.

Still, there was no excuse for letting her cover for him by lying to Helen. His beef was with the publisher. There was no reason Gidget’s career should be collateral damage, whether he thought it was the right choice or not. He was just about to step through the curtain when she spoke up again.

“You mentioned afternoon tea at the inn. It’s just about that time. I know my mother would love to thank you in person for sending me home for the holidays.”

Well played, Gidget. Well played.

It was uncanny how similar in behavior she was to Keeley. His late wife had always been an enchantress at persuasion. Keeley led with her big heart, too. His gut clenched.

And look where that got her.

He shook his head trying to refocus his attention on the conversation on the other side of the curtain. Helen hesitated, likely weighing Gidget’s sincerity. The publisher had no alternative but to trust her, though. Especially since Everett had backed Helen against the proverbial wall. He pondered his next move while the two women walked out of the bookstore.

Elle’s mother was still practically levitating a half hour after Helen left the inn.

“You didn’t tell us you were being promoted.” She gave Elle a hug, the fourth one in the past fifteen minutes. “I’m so thrilled for you. You are a beautiful writer. It’s nice to see you getting the recognition you deserve. What an accomplishment.”

“Thanks.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell her mother the promotion wasn’t a done deal. Helen made it sound that way while she sang Elle’s praises to everyone enjoying afternoon tea. It was almost as if Jeremy’s grandmother was raising the stakes. Had she guessed Elle was lying about West and his manuscript?

I’m so screwed.

Still, she didn’t regret her actions. West had been given until the end of the year to turn in the final manuscript. He didn’t respond well to helicopter editing. Helen showing up would only make him dig in his heels even more.

Not only that, but Elle sensed it was costing him to write those last few chapters. As irritating as the man was, she wouldn’t force him to do something that might be upsetting. It wasn’t right.

Which meant she was royally screwed.

“We should have everyone over to celebrate,” her mom was saying.

“No!”

Her reaction had her mother cocking her head to the side.

“I don’t want to jinx it,” Elle told her. “We can celebrate in January when everything is official.”

Of course, I could be unemployed. What a party that would be.

“Besides, I don’t want to rain on Ryan and Jane’s parade,” she continued. “They just got engaged. Let them have their moment before we move on to the next thing. In fact, let’s keep my promotion between you and me for the time being.”

Elle’s mother was still looking at her funny when the ringing of a cell phone saved her from continuing the awkward conversation. While her mom answered, Elle hurried into the kitchen to load the dishes into the dishwasher.

“I need to take Midas back to Gavin and Ginger’s loft,” her mom said when she joined her. “They left him here while they showed their place to a prospective buyer. Gavin is just now putting Hazel down for a nap. Ginger has a meeting at the auditorium to prepare for The Nutcracker performance.” Her mother sighed as she glanced around the messy kitchen. “The traffic will be crazy with so many people in town for the bazaar. It could take thirty minutes to get there and back.”

“I’ll take him,” Elle offered. “We can walk. I didn’t get a chance to check out all the booths earlier.”

“Are you sure?”

Elle grabbed the dog leash from a hook by the door. “I’m not getting nearly the same number of steps here as I do in New York.”

“Make sure you avoid downtown. Midas is still persona non gratis. Bernice claims there are Most Wanted posters with the dog’s picture on it hanging in a few shop windows.”

“Midas is at the top of Santa’s naughty list, that’s for sure,” Elle said with a chuckle as she hurried out the door in search of her brother’s dog.

She found him standing as still as a statue beside the garden house where he’d cornered a squirrel. Both animals were in the middle of an intense stare down when Elle went to attach the leash.

“Come on, you nutty dog. You’ve got a perfectly good dinner waiting for you at home.”

The mention of dinner had Midas spinning in a circle, tangling them both up in the leash.

“Whoa,” Lamar said as he grabbed the dog before Midas took her down. “Sit, Midas.”

For once, the dog did as he was told, allowing Elle to step out from the confines of the leash. She smiled up at her stepfather. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“All in the line of duty. Lucky for you, I stopped by to tell your mom it’s all hands on deck tonight.”

“More flu?”

He nodded. “Coupled with the crowd in town, Hayden, Simone and I have our work cut out for us. It’s going to be a late night.”

So much for her and Hayden sneaking up to Wilmington for a dinner date away from the prying eyes of everyone in town. This day was really beginning to suck.

“Oh, by the way,” he said, interrupting her pity party. “You were right about West.”

She didn’t see that coming.

“How so?” Hopefully, her suspicions about him not working on the book weren’t what he was alluding to.

“About him dealing with a lot of baggage. He showed up at our meeting earlier this week. West is working to address the issues haunting him.”

“Oh my gosh! That’s great. Thank you for inviting him.”

He put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re the one who put him on my radar. Any credit goes to you for caring.”

Elle had a little skip to her step as she headed into town. Perhaps West would finish his book after all. Her promotion was in reach. Finally, she’d have an accomplishment worthy of the McAlister name. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Helen Keneally’s face when she returned to New York a success.

Returned to New York.

Why did the thought make her stomach drop? The answer to her question sped by in one of the sheriff department’s cruisers, headed north toward the highway. She sighed.

“Why is life so complicated?” she asked the dog.

Midas responded with a nudge to her leg and a swish of his tail.

“Oh, you’re no help. You’ve only got one thing on your mind—dinner.”

As if to agree, the dog tugged on his leash, eager to get home to his waiting bowl of kibble. Elle took her mother’s advice, circumventing the town square and following the more direct route down Water Street toward the old torpedo factory that housed Gavin’s second-floor loft. The century-old brick warehouse was on the water, blocks away from the city pier. Gavin’s loft featured panoramic views of the town and the point where the Cape Fear River met the Atlantic Ocean.

Her father bought the building long before Elle was born. The bottom floor housed the offices of McAlister Construction and Engineering. Miles and his congressional staff now used that space for his local office. Across the hall was the Tiny Dancer Ballet studio. Elle’s childhood dance teacher, Audra Greaves, still owned it, but Ginger and Donella—both professional dancers—did most of the instruction now.

When she pushed open the double doors, Midas bolted up the stairs and through the doggie door without a backward glance.

“Love you, too,” Elle called after him.

She chuckled to herself as she turned to make her way back to the inn. A movement in the dance studio caught her eye. West was inside . . . wielding a tape measure?

Elle pushed through the glass doors. “Thinking of taking up dance while you’re in town?”

If her interruption of whatever the heck he was doing surprised him, he didn’t let on. “Your sister-in-law mentioned she could use an extra party guest or two for this week’s performance. Who am I to turn down an opportunity to take part in The Nutcracker ?”

She didn’t doubt his sincerity for one minute. “Mm. You don’t want to miss a chance to cross something off your list of cheesy Christmas experiences.”

The man smiled at her. A genuine smile like the ones that made Lois and Bernice blush. Heck, it was so unexpected, it almost made Elle blush.

“What are you really doing here?” she demanded.

His grin turned wily. “Working on a project.”

Elle slammed her eyes shut while she began silently counting to ten. The man had a project to work on, dammit . His memoir!

She snapped her eyelids up. “Helen Keneally was here today.”

Neither her announcement nor her tone seemed to faze him. He stretched the measuring tape across the floor.

“Do you even care, West?”

“Helen’s travel exploits are of no interest to me.”

“She was here looking for you .”

A loud snap echoed off the high walls when he retracted the measuring tape.

“So I heard.”

“Wait? You knew she was here looking for you, and you didn’t even bother to show your face?”

“I figured since you are my handler, you could”—he twirled his index finger in the air— “handle it.”

Elle was sure she was going to explode. “Oh, don’t you worry. I handled it. And now both our necks are on the line.”

He deigned to look at her. His green eyes were thoughtful. “Mm. I know. Thank you for that, by the way.”

Was he serious right now?

Was this man ever serious?

It was no use. Elle didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to deal with West any more today. She spun on her heel to march out.

“Elinor.”

The shock of hearing her name come from his lips had her wheeling around swiftly. West stood in the center of the room holding something out to her. From this distance it appeared to be a small rectangle of plastic.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He tossed it to her. She caught it right before it landed on the parquet floor. It was a jump drive.

“My memoir.”

Elle was suddenly lightheaded. “Wh—what?”

“Complete and ready for Helen to let out into the world.”

No surprise, she was having trouble making sense of the man. “You could have given it to her yourself today.”

West shrugged. “She tasked you with riding my ass for it. I figured I’d give you the glory of delivering it to her.”

“I—I . . .” Words failed her.

He went back to taking measurements.

Elle was now more confused than ever. “When did you complete it?”

The man had the nerve to chuckle. “Sometime in August.”

“ Sometime in August! ” Her shout was loud in the cavernous room. “And you couldn’t be bothered to turn it in on time?”

He shook his head. “Helen would have pressed me to start working on the next book. And I wasn’t ready to write it. I’m not sure I ever will be.”

Something the publisher said earlier swam through Elle’s mind. “She mentioned you reneged on the option for a second book.”

He scoffed. “I guess you could say I did. The contract for the second book is null and void if I miss any deadlines with book one.” He shot her a wicked grin. “I simply had my agent remind her of that. She showed up today because she’s worried I’ll sell it to another publisher. I won’t. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

Holy crap .

West had been sitting on his book in order to execute some power play against Helen. Elle ought to be furious that he’d involved her in his antics. Except she was getting her promotion out of it. She fingered the jump drive in her hand.

“It must be a hell of a story to warrant Helen coming all the way to Chances Inlet,” she said.

He was quiet for a long moment. “Mm. It’s a book based on my late wife’s journals.”

Whoa!

“They are telling. Written as only someone with Keeley’s heart could write them.” His tone was almost reverent. “But I’m too close to the subject matter to do them justice. Someone else will write the book one day.”

The fine lines bracketing his eyes and his mouth were suddenly more pronounced. Elle guessed memories of the tragic way he’d lost his wife were sneaking up on him. She tried to lighten the mood.

“Don’t tell me. Rather than writing a book, you’re going to build a ballet studio somewhere instead?”

His responding laugh was rich and deep. And sexy. Her sisters-in-law had called the man dreamy when he first arrived. Witnessing this side of Everett West, Elle had to agree.

“Now there’s an idea,” he replied, keeping his secrets close to the vest as usual.

Elle leaned her shoulder against one of the pillars surrounding the room. “My father built this place for me.”

That got his attention. He shot her a curious look.

“Well, sort of. I suspect he built it more for himself than for me. After four kids, he was sick of schlepping one or the other of us to practice. The closest dance studio was in Wilmington.” She shrugged.

West’s smile held a hint of amazement. “Still a sweet thing for him to do.”

“Mm. The sad truth is, I got bored with ballet after a year.”

His eyebrows crawled up his forehead.

“I couldn’t tell him that, though. I danced for six more years because I didn’t want to disappoint him.”

Funny, Hayden was the only other person in the world who knew that fun fact.

He shook his head. “Why does that not surprise me?”

She shifted away from the pillar. Was he making fun of her again?

West shoved the tape measure into his jacket pocket and walked toward the door. “You do a lot of things you’d rather not do simply to avoid hurting other people,” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t you think it’s about time you did something just for you, Elinor?”

His cryptic words hung in the air even after he was long gone. Elle studied the jump drive in her palm. It was her ticket to success. A smarter woman would be emailing the manuscript to Madelaine and Helen immediately. Suni had been texting her all week about the fabulous holiday party Vantage had planned.

Christmas was a whole nine days away. She could fly back to New York, enjoy the party with her friends, get a jumpstart on her new position and still return to celebrate the holiday with her family.

That would mean leaving Hayden, however. They hadn’t yet worked out the logistics of their relationship. And things were good right now. Perfect even. Why waste this time in New York? She doubted she’d enjoy the party without him. And the job would still be there in January. This thing with Hayden might not be.

She shoved the jump drive into the pocket of her jeans. It was the weekend. The Vantage offices would be empty anyway. West’s memoir could wait until Monday to land in her editor’s in-box. She wandered out of the dance studio to check out the rest of the bazaar.