Chapter 2

Chapter Two

It turned out that Everett West, the veteran war reporter everyone adored, was an asshole. And a cantankerous one, to boot. She’d only known the man for seven hours, and Elle was already questioning whether the lifestyles columnist job was worth it. He’d shown up at the airport five minutes before they were supposed to board, looking like he was channeling Ernest Hemingway, dressed in a khaki fishing vest, a flannel shirt, and thick-soled Timberland boots. The ridiculous boots let out a shrill squeak whenever he crossed the tigerwood floors of her mother’s inn.

Any attempts by Elle at conversation were rebuffed throughout the flight. Mr. West was more concerned with keeping the ice fresh in his glass of Scotch—when he wasn’t dozing off. Elle had to work to contain her pique that he didn’t bother to work on his manuscript while they were en route. The first-class seats courtesy of Vantage certainly afforded him enough elbow room to type.

“Thank you for including me at dinner this evening,” he said to Elle’s mother.

It was the longest sentence she’d heard the man utter all day.

“The pleasure is all ours,” her mom replied. “Tomorrow, Elle will show you around town, and you can choose from any number of restaurants for dinner. Of course, you’re welcome to use the kitchen whenever you’d like. I’m sure eating out for every meal can get tedious.”

Elle opened her mouth to say that Mr. West wouldn’t be dining out. She fully intended to act as his personal Uber Eats for the next five weeks. Anything to keep him on track to finish his book.

Except he was a regular chatterbox now. “You’d be surprised at the meals I’ve had to endure while out in the field, Mrs. Hollister.”

It was still weird for Elle to hear her mother called by a different last name. Donald McAlister, Elle’s father, died suddenly four years ago, rocking the McAlister family—and Chances Inlet—to its core. A year later, Lamar Hollister arrived to serve as the town’s new sheriff. He claimed it was love at first sight for him. Elle’s mom took a bit more persuading—the man was five years younger, after all. In the end, Lamar prevailed and the two had just celebrated their first anniversary as husband and wife.

Elle’s mom stood to clear the dinner plates. “Oh, please, call me Patricia. I hope you saved room for dessert. My daughter-in-law sent over a wonderful lemon cake. It’s one of the most popular recipes from her new cookbook.”

“I’ve endured a few of those MREs in my day, West,” Lamar tossed out.

The hint of challenge in his voice surprised Elle. The sheriff was normally very diplomatic and careful with his words. Mr. West leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the arms and steepling his fingers above his chest as he seemed to size up Lamar.

Elle’s eyes darted back and forth between them. It was a bit uncanny how alike they looked. Both were about the same height—just over six feet if she had to guess—with the same well-maintained physiques. They were lucky to still have full heads of thick hair, graying attractively at the temples. Where Lamar’s hazel eyes were curious and welcoming, however, Mr. West’s green ones were wary and forbidding. And his nose looked as though it had seen the business end of more than one fist.

“You served.” The words came out of Mr. West’s mouth more as a proclamation than a question.

Lamar held up three fingers. “Three tours.”

“Afghanistan?”

The sheriff nodded. A pained expression passed over Mr. West’s face so quickly, Elle would have missed it if she wasn’t so intent on tracking the obvious posturing between the two men. There was a subtext here that she was having trouble decoding. She knew from her many conversations with her best friend that the scars veterans brought home weren’t always physical ones. Was Mr. West dealing with some sort of internal trauma left over from his time embedded with combat troops?

She’d barely had time to rush through the first four chapters of his memoir before the flight today. No way did she want to look like a groupie by having him catch her reading it on the plane. So far, the book had been about his life before becoming an international correspondent. The writing was excellent and his upbringing challenging. Elle got the nagging feeling she was missing something, though.

“A number of veterans live in Chances Inlet,” Lamar continued, his words sounding like a warning to Elle’s ears.

Mr. West picked up his whiskey glass and sloshed its contents around. “I’m sure there are. Small towns like yours are always proud to support their country, with many fine young men and women stepping up to serve. Thank you for doing so.” He saluted Lamar with his glass. “I’m not here as a war correspondent, though,” he offered as reassurance. “I’ve never had the pleasure of spending the holidays in a quaint town such as this. I look forward to checking out all the cutesy activities I always see in those Christmas movies. I’m sure there has to be a gingerbread house-making contest somewhere in Chances Inlet.”

Elle choked on her gasp. “Oh, we don’t have any of that here,” she managed to say. “Besides, you’re going to be very busy finishing your book, remember?”

Both men focused their attention on her. Lamar arched an eyebrow ever so slightly. Mr. West, on the other hand, regarded her with bemused arrogance. He didn’t like the idea of having a babysitter while he worked, that was for sure. Not that she could blame him. But here they were, and Elle was determined he would finish his book on time.

Her future rested on it.

“Look who I found.” Patricia entered the dining room carrying a tray of neatly sliced lemon cake. She was followed by an elegant young blonde woman wearing a gorgeous smile and the Stella McCartney boots Elle had coveted online for weeks.

“Oh, wow. You’re Everett West,” the woman gushed as both men stood from the table. “My parents used to watch you on the network news every night.”

Mr. West coughed out a laugh, but his smile seemed genuine. Not that Elle would know, because he had not deigned to toss one her way.

“In the flesh.” He offered her his hand.

The other woman blushed as she held it with both of hers and pumped it up and down. “I’m sorry. That sounded ridiculous. I didn’t mean any offense.”

“None taken,” Mr. West said. “I realize network newscasters are dinosaurs. Your generation would rather get your news in bits and pieces from social media.”

Elle felt his side-eye directed her way as he spoke the words.

“This is Olivia Turner,” Elle’s mom explained. “Livi is heading up the restoration of the Seaward House on Bald Head Island. It’s being converted into a premiere, all-inclusive destination wedding venue.”

Livi held up her hands. “Just the decorating portion of the restoration. Art is my jam. Math, not so much.”

“Livi, this is my daughter, Elinor. You two should have a lot in common since you both live in New York City. Elle and Mr. West will also be here throughout the holiday season. They are working on his book.”

Mr. West made a noise that sounded a lot like a snort at her mom’s suggestion that Elle would be working on his book. Elle ignored him.

“I love your boots,” she said instead.

Livi looked down at them proudly. “Aren’t they great? They’re dupes. One-third the price.”

“No way!”

The other woman nodded. “I can give you the link if you want.”

“Oh my gosh, yes, please.”

Livi returned her grin, and Elle felt herself relaxing for the first time today. The woman would be a refreshing antidote to Mr. West’s surliness these next few weeks, that was for sure.

“Anybody home?”

Her eased demeanor was short-lived, however. The familiar voice had her body tensing again while waves of embarrassment crashed through her belly. She willed her cheeks not to flush as Hayden Lovell strode into the dining room. Dressed in worn denim jeans and a fisherman’s sweater, he looked totally unaffected by her presence, damn him.

But then why should he be? I was the one who threw myself at him after drowning my breakup heartache in Long Island iced tea. I was the one who made a total fool of myself and wrecked the one true relationship in my life.

“Just in time for dessert,” her mom was saying. “You’ve met Livi. Allow me to introduce Everett West.”

“Sir.” Hayden gave the other man a brusque nod.

“And of course you know Elle. These two were thick as thieves growing up,” her mother explained for the benefit of her two guests.

“Really?” Livi said, her tone a bit incredulous.

Yes, girl. He was my best friend for twenty-three years. Until I screwed it up.

For his part, Hayden’s expression was inscrutable. “Hey, Elle,” he said. “Good to see you.” The fact that his words lacked any real enthusiasm stung.

“What have you got there?” Lamar gestured to a piece of paper Hayden held.

“Oh.” He handed it over to Livi. “They were handing these out in town. It’s a schedule of all the events Chances Inlet has planned for the next few weeks. I thought Livi might be interested.”

“Ooo!” Livi exclaimed. “A gingerbread house-making contest. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Elle’s stomach dropped to the floor.

“You don’t say?” Mr. West practically growled beside her.

“Hayden and Elle won that competition a few times, if I’m not mistaken,” Lamar said.

Elle shot the troublemaker a pleading look, but he was already tucking into his piece of cake.

“Is that so?” Livi asked. She turned and aimed a dazzling smile up at Hayden. “You are very talented at building things. I’m not surprised.”

Hey! Two people were creating those gingerbread houses! I contributed!

Mr. West reached for the sheet of paper. “May I?”

It was all Elle could do to keep from grabbing and ripping it up.

Of course he took his time perusing the damn thing. “A Turkey Trot 5k on Thanksgiving. Children’s holiday readings at the bookstore on Friday. An ugly sweater party and holiday cocktail-making contest at Pier Pressure,” he read out loud. “The annual tree lighting. A holiday flotilla and concert.” He nodded at Livi. “A gingerbread house-making contest. A magnolia wreath demonstration and exhibition. A craft bazaar. A snowman-in-the-sand contest?—”

“We don’t have one of those!” Elle snatched the paper from Mr. West.

“Actually, we do. It’s new this year,” Lamar said.

To her humiliation, there it was in black and white.

“Oh, wow. I’ll bet you’d be skilled at that, too, Hayden,” Livi cooed. “I can offer some great advice for the aesthetics. We should enter together.”

Why the heck was Elle’s chest suddenly tight?

Hayden cleared his throat softly. “If I can fit it into my work schedule, then sure. That would be fun.”

Livi beamed as if he’d just told her chocolate cake had no calories.

“My editor has given me an all-expenses-paid trip to a picturesque small town for the holidays. I plan on participating in all these events while I’m here,” Mr. West announced.

“Your editor paid for you to get out of New York City so you can get some work done,” Elle snapped as she tossed the paper onto the table. “You won’t have time for any of this.”

She didn’t need the shocked silence in the room to tell her she’d gone too far. Way too far. Since when had she become so bitchy?

“Elinor,” her mother chastised her, deservedly so.

Mr. West held up his hand. “My jailer has spoken. I’d better get my tail back in the chair.” He inclined his head toward Livi. “Ms. Turner, it was a pleasure meeting you. You as well, Deputy. Patricia, thank you again for a delicious meal. However, it seems I didn’t work hard enough to deserve my dessert this evening.”

Elle sighed as she fought to keep her eyes from rolling.

“If you could point me in the direction of the study you offered that I may use?” he added.

“I’ll show you,” Elle said. She had no desire to face her mother right now. Or to watch Livi Turner fawn all over Hayden.

“I’ll wrap up the cake and leave it in the kitchen for you in case you want it later,” her mother called as Elle led him down the hall to the small study at the other side of the inn.

A banker’s lamp glowed softly on the desk. Floor-to-ceiling oak shelves lined one wall of the room. Another wall featured wide, mullioned windows overlooking the inn’s lawn. Two leather chairs situated in front of the desk filled the rest of the space.

Elle loved this room at this time of year because her mother filled it with mementos and decorations personal to their family. All of them held memories of early McAlister Christmases. She tried not to flinch when Mr. West made a beeline for the carved Russian Santa on the desk. It was one-of-a-kind and a stunning focal point in the room. It was also her favorite.

“My parents got that on the Alaskan cruise they took for their fifteenth wedding anniversary,” she said softly.

He didn’t respond, seemingly transfixed as he gently ran his fingertips over the carving.

Elle sighed. “Look, Mr. West?—”

“Can we dispense with the mister?” He placed the Santa back on the desk before spinning around and glaring at her.

“Um, okay, Everett?—”

“It’s West to you,” he barked. “And let’s get a few things straight here, Gidget. I’ve never missed a deadline. Ever. So you can untangle your panties and take your foot off my neck. I have no idea why Helen thought I needed some nepo baby to mind me, but you work for me, not the other way around.”

Nepo baby?

“I have some emails to answer, so you can go scroll on your phone somewhere else. I won’t need you for the rest of the night. Tomorrow, I’ll have some emails for you to finalize and send out.”

Elle opened and closed her mouth. She owed him an apology. He was right to be angry with her. She had behaved totally inappropriately back there.

Not that he made it any easier. They’d both been thrown into an awkward situation that neither wanted. Her role in all of this was to help him finish his book. She couldn’t pull the words out of him no matter how much she wanted to help. They were his words. But she could make things easier for him. And she would. Starting right now.

“Yes, sir. If there’s anything you need, I’ll be around.”

He reached for the bottle of Scotch on the sideboard. “Nope. I have everything I need right here.”

Great. Just great.

As if the night couldn’t get any worse, she almost plowed into Livi and Hayden at the end of the hall. He pulled the inn’s front door open and was about to usher her through. Elle owed this man an apology, too. Anything that would take them back to the way they were before. She hadn’t realized until tonight how painfully she missed her best friend. How much she needed him in her life. Especially if she was going to survive the next few weeks with West.

“Oh, you’re headed out?” She directed the question at Livi.

The other woman practically bounced on her toes. “We are. Hayden is going to show me the nightlife in town.”

Elle snorted. “That should take all of five minutes.”

Livi looked at Hayden adoringly. “I hope not.”

Despite her throat tightening painfully again, Elle managed to push out words. “Have fun.”

She meant it, too. Livi seemed decent enough. And Hayden’s happiness had always been important to her. They looked good together.

“Night.” Livi practically floated out of the inn.

With a heavy sigh, Elle headed for the stairs.

“Belle?”

Her heart skipped a beat at the nickname only Hayden used for her. He’d anointed her with it during her Beauty and the Beast days. She forced a smile before she turned around to face him. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

His eyes showed so much genuine concern that she nearly wept with joy. Maybe she hadn’t damaged their relationship as badly as she imagined. Perhaps there was a chance their friendship could be resurrected.

“Yeah. Just trying to get this new work arrangement sorted out, that’s all.”

He stared at her for several long heartbeats. “I hope you get it all figured out soon. Night, Belle.”

“Night,” she whispered before hurrying up the stairs.