Christmas on Main Collection

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

ALLEGRA

Taking deep breaths through my clenched jaw, I slide into the driver's seat of my car and slam the door.

What the hell has happened to my life?

A few hours ago, I was getting ready to sell the store for a huge profit and looking forward to spending some time with my Christmas tree farmer gentleman friend. Now, my sister says she doesn’t want to sell, and my gentleman friend? He’s not a farmer. He’s a billionaire.

Son of a nutcracker, nothing makes sense.

There’s only one person who can help me sort through this, and I really hate to bother them. But with unshed tears burning the backs of my eyes and threatening to clog my throat, I’m desperate to make some sense of my suddenly tumultuous life.

Sniffling, I pick up my phone and pull up a number I’ve probably called a million times.

My boss Samantha answers my video call on the second ring. “Allegra, I didn’t think I’d hear from you until after the holidays. Is everything okay?”

“No.” And with that single word, my voice—and resistance—breaks.

Samantha listens closely while I fill her in on everything that’s happened since I saw her at Thanksgiving. She asks a few clarifying questions but otherwise remains silent while I spill my guts and my heart.

“And now I feel like I don’t know anything. I don’t know Aurora. I don’t know Van. I don’t even know when—or if—I’ll be able to get back to my life in Los Angeles.”

“Assuming you want to come back to your life in Los Angeles.”

“What?” I blink rapidly. “Why would you think I wouldn’t want to come back?”

“Of course, you always have a job with me for as long as you want it.” She gives me a light smile. “But we both know you’re too good to spend the rest of your life as my assistant.”

“Well…”

“And while I’m sure you could build a full, successful career of your own as a consultant in mergers and acquisitions, is that really where your heart is?”

My heart. “I’m pretty sure my heart is stupid.”

“It can seem like that. But in my experience, it isn’t so much that our hearts are stupid but that our brains don’t quite speak the same language as them.”

I give a watery laugh. “I guess I need to pick up a translation guide. Maybe then I can talk some sense into it.”

“Are we still talking about your store?”

Trust Samantha to cut to the chase and see right through me. “I can’t believe Van lied to me.”

“I hate to say this, but he didn’t exactly straight-out lie.”

“Well, no. But he also didn’t tell me the full truth.” I reach into my glove compartment to find an old fast food napkin to blot my tear-stained cheeks. “There I was spilling my guts to him and giving him a front-row seat to my life, and he wasn’t giving me the full picture of his.”

“That’s fair, but let me ask a question. Was his job the only thing he didn’t share with you?”

My hand freezes with the napkin as I’m about to blow my nose. “What do you mean?”

“Did he share other parts of his life with you? Like, did he tell you about his favorite music or what treat he craves most? Did he tell you about his childhood and family?”

I nod slowly as I work my way through the list, having an answer to the affirmative in each of those cases. “Yeah, he did.”

“In my experience, those are the things that really matter. Work is important—especially when it’s a job you love. But at the end of the day, what matters most in a relationship is everything that happens outside of the office. If you want my advice, give him a chance to explain. I’m sure there’s more to the story.”

I’m still considering Samantha’s words long after we hang up. I don’t know how much time has passed, but the sun has long since set though Van’s strings of Christmas lights are back on, shining over the lot.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I watch the man himself pace back and forth in front of his camper. Every so often, he looks over at my car.

He’s waiting for and looking out for me while still giving me my space as requested. Despite my irritation, warmth floods my veins and wraps around my heart. Samantha is right. I should give him a chance to explain his silence.

While I may not know what our future holds, I do know my heart will never forgive my brain if I don’t at least give him a chance.

Checking the mirror to ensure I’m no longer covered in rivers of mascara, I touch up my lipstick and step back out of the car. Van stops his pacing when he sees me walk toward him.

He studies my face closely. “Are you okay?”

Apparently, I didn’t do as good of a job hiding the evidence of my crying session as I thought. “I’m okay.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I…” Van pulls the beanie off of his head and runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ve lived a privileged life. My dad’s business, which is now also my business, made sure of that. Everywhere I’ve gone, people have looked at me and seen dollar signs. Then you came along…”

“Then I came along and had no problem sassing you.”

“Exactly.” His lips curve into a half-grin. “You didn’t see our company’s real estate portfolio or my net worth. You saw me.”

“In fairness, I saw a Christmas tree farmer.”

“Well, that is one of my personas.” Sighing, he shoves his hat into his back pocket and takes another step toward me. “After my mom died, Dad and I took a step back from the business. We’re still involved. We share the work. But we aren’t both there for the day-to-day.” His gaze lifts to mine, and my heart aches at the sadness I see in his eyes. “We realized there was more to life than spreadsheets and bottom lines.”

“So you became a Christmas tree farmer?”

“A part-time Christmas tree farmer.” He swallows hard. “The farm still belongs to my mom’s parents. She grew up on it and said it was her favorite place in the world. My grandparents… They aren’t as young as they used to be, so I help them out.”

He helps them out personally when a man like him is more than capable of hiring someone else to do it thousands—if not millions—of times over.

“I help them out because it makes me feel closer to my mom.” He lifts his shoulders. “So when you met and got to know that version of me, I felt like you were seeing the best version of me. The version of me you were most likely to like.”

A tear slides down my cheek and—with a groan—Van folds me into his arms. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m not,” I protest, even as another tear falls. I swear, I’ve cried more today than in the past ten years combined. Taking a breath, I pull back to look at his face. “For the record, I do like the version of you I’ve gotten to know. And… And I’m looking forward to getting to know all of the other versions as well.”

His face bursts into a full smile and he presses his lips to mine. It’s a firm but sweet kiss filled with hope and promise.

When we pull apart to breathe, Van slides his hands down to take my hand. “I know we still have a lot to talk about. Can I persuade you to join me in the camper?”

“Ha.” I shake my head, thinking about how much time we’ve spent not talking in that same place. “You really want to talk?”

“I swear. There will just be talking for now.” He squeezes my hands. “Okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

He keeps a firm grip on my hands and guides me into the camper. He settles me on the sofa bench and steps away.

My brows knit together. “Where are you going?”

“Just a moment.” He holds up a finger. “I need to grab something.”

“What the…” But I’m left speaking to his back as he steps out of the camper.

While I wait for him to return, I turn my gaze around it. I wonder if he’ll still want to come live in this camper every holiday season for the rest of our lives. If he does, we might need to make a few upgrades. The water pressure here is atrocious and… And I’m getting ahead of myself.

The door creaks open, and I start to ask if I should close my eyes but stop when Aurora steps inside.

“Oh.” My voice falls flat. “It’s you.”

Pressing her lips together, she turns to walk back out. The door slams in her face and the lock clicks.

“Hey!” She grabs the handle and gives it a shake. “Open the door.”

“Yeah.” I jump to my feet. “Let us out.”

“No.” My eyes widen at Van’s clipped reply.

“Come on.” Aurora gives the handle another shake.

“It’s for your own good,” Paz says.

My jaw falls open. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Seriously.” I can practically see Van holding the door closed on the other side. “You ladies talk or just sit there. But we’re not opening this door until you two finally get on the same page.”

Aurora gapes. “But?—”

“It’s Christmas for fuck’s sake,” Paz says.

“And you’re sisters,” Van adds. “Sisters should be getting along–or at least speaking to each other–at Christmas.”

I roll my eyes. “Says the guy who’s an only child.”

“Right? Like either of them get it.” Aurora shakes her head.

We share a look, and I release a breath.

“I guess we should talk,” Aurora says. “Since we’re both here.”

“I guess.” I motion for her to join me as I sit back down. “So. Talk.”

A few seconds pass before Aurora does. “I don’t want to sell the store. And I think deep down you don’t want to either.”

I start to protest, but she’s still going.

“Let’s start with why I don’t want to sell. You’ve always known what you wanted in your life.” She hesitates a moment. “I’ve never had that. I’ve been drifting and for the first time since graduating I’ve found something I’m good at.”

My heart aches for my sister. I can only imagine what it’s been like to go to school and have every teacher say, “Oh, you’re Allegra’s sister.” It can’t have been easy.

“You are good at what you do,” I say, desperately wanting her to believe in her talent. “You’re so creative. So imaginative. I can see how this place has been good for you. But…” I moisten my lips. “This wasn’t in my plan. This wasn’t our plan. The one we made together from the start.”

“You know as well as anyone that plans change.” I open my mouth to protest but her next words give me pause. “And you have to adapt with them. Isn’t that what you’re always saying?”

“Yeah, but…” Panic pulses through me. “I have a career. I have a job I love and a boss who needs me.”

“Does your boss need you or have you just gotten comfortable?”

I start to respond once and then twice, but I can’t. My baby sister has just asked the mother of all questions. The one that really gets to the heart of what’s holding me back from leaping forward with this store permanently.

“And what about Van?” Aurora asks.

Van, my heart skips a beat at his name even as I shake my head. I might be crazy about him, but I don’t even know if he lives here year-round or if he splits his time.

Besides… “I can’t plan my whole life around a guy I just met. A man whose identity I didn’t even really know until half an hour ago.”

“What, is he Bruce Wayne or something? Does he have a secret Bat Cave and drive around the city fighting crime?”

“I mean kind of.” I grin as her eyes go wide. “Not the Bat Cave or crime-fighting part. Just the billionaire part.”

“Seriously? How much money are we talking?”

I give a short laugh. “Aurora!”

“Hey, Van?” Aurora shouts through the door. “You’re a billionaire and you live in a camper? What happened? Is your Montecito mansion being fumigated or something?”

There’s a pause before his muffled voice responds. “I don’t live in a camper. Not all the time. But this isn’t about me.”

“Yeah,” Paz adds. “Focus. For fuck’s sake.”

“Does he have a place in Montecito?” Aurora whispers excitedly.

“Yeah, but he’s right.” I take a deep breath and release it slowly. “This isn’t about him or where he lives. Or even the fact that I’m crazy about him. I… I… I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“You were right.” I rub my suddenly clammy hands on my pants. “I am comfortable with my job. I’m freaking awesome at it. But what if we do this and we fail? Brick and mortars are a dime a dozen.”

“Not our place. Our place is special.”

“What? Because it’s Christmas all year round?”

“That and it has us. Both of us.” Aurora meets my gaze. “And if we work together, nothing can stop us.”

I wish I had her optimism. I wish I had her belief.

I wish I had all the answers. I narrow my eyes. “Are you sure this isn’t just about the guy? Because I’ll be so pissed if I give up my career only to find out?—”

“I’m not going to bail on you,” she insists. “And I’m not going to bail on Paz. I know we just met, but… I’m crazy about him.”

“You’re in love?”

Aurora glances at the door and nods.

I sigh. “How did we end up here? Two sisters who couldn’t be more different, but we’ve found our place, and our hearts have found their matches.”

“Maybe Aunt Doris knew something we didn’t. Maybe this was her plan all along.”

I arch an eyebrow. “So you’re saying Aunt Doris not only gave us her store but our men?”

“She’s the ultimate matchmaker.” Aurora gestures to the sky. “We see you, Aunt Doris.”

“The meddling…” I shake my head. “I guess there’s just one thing left to do. Well two.”

“What’s that?”

“We tell the buyers to go suck it and then… We tell our men they’d better get used to having us around.”

Because even though all of this—the business and our romances—wasn’t in the plan, even though it’s terrifying, it’s beyond exciting.

I throw my arms around Aurora. She’s right. We’re in this together. And no matter what, we’re going to succeed. Because we have each other.

Of course, it took Christmas to make me see that.

Once I release Aurora from my grip, she jumps to her feet and pounds on the door. “Open the door, Tree King. We’re friends again.”

“Yeah.” I join her and call out to Paz. “Come get your sunshine.”

The lock flips and the door creaks open. Aurora bounds out of it and Van slowly enters, his jaw clenched nervously.

“Do you hate me?”

“No.” I fold my arms across my chest and feign a serious expression. “But I do have a few questions before we continue with tonight’s regularly scheduled programming.”

“Go on.”

“First…” I tilt my head to the side. “Tree King?”

He chuckles and moves closer. “It’s an inside joke.”

“How did you and my sister come to have inside jokes?”

“How did you and Paz?”

“That’s fair.” I nod, conceding the point. “Next question: Can we install a better shower head in here?”

“Baby”—he wraps his arm around me—“you can put your mark all over this place—and all of my places—if you like.”

“I may hold you to that.” I lean into him. “One more question.”

“Shoot.”

“How does a billionaire look so damn good in a flannel and jeans?”

“I look even better out of them.” He wiggles his eyebrows and a moment later, he proves just how true those words are.