Chapter 1
Nix
"Are you still at work?" My best friend Torey called for the third time since Mt. Holiday Bakery closed.
I rolled my eyes at the phone. "You called the phone line at the bakery and I answered, so yeah, I'm still here. And before you go in on me, I've just finished up all the cookies, brownies and muffins for tomorrow. When they're cool, I'll pack them up so they'll be ready for delivery first thing."
Running my bakery in Holiday Grove was already a twenty-four-seven job, but Christmas season doubled the workload.
Committee meetings crowded the calendar—Christmas Festival, New Year's, and even Valentine's Day planning sessions.
Each one required my baked goods to fuel the decision-making.
Then there were the numerous parties around town clamoring for my treats.
"That's why I'm calling Nix. You should really head home. Now." The thread of worry that made my friend's voice wobble gave me pause.
"Why? What's going on Torey?"
She laughed sharply. "Let me guess, you've cranked up Adele while you baked for the past four hours, ignoring all of your news and social media notifications?"
"Maybe?" It was how I preferred to bake, especially after hours. "There's nothing like singing badly at the top of your lungs to make the goods taste better."
"Right, but that also means that you miss out on important information like the incoming storm, Nix!" She was using her maternal voice that I usually loved, but not today.
"It's not supposed to hit until later tonight, so I'll be home with plenty of time to spare. Promise Mom."
"That was the weather report from this morning. It's already snowing Nix. Snowing and piling up." Her emphasis brought me up short and I rushed to the back door and shoved it open.
"Wow!" My eyes widened at the thick blanket of white covering everything in sight. "You undersold it, Torey."
She sighed. "Serves you right. Pack up and go home. I'll walk over in the morning and finish prepping everything for delivery."
I glanced at the cardboard boxes decorated with the green Mt. Holiday logo, stacked neatly against the wall. "I'm almost done."
"Good. That means it won't take me long to do it before I get started on the bread. In the morning."
"Yeah, yeah," I switched her to speakerphone while removing my apron. "I heard you loud and clear."
"Excellent. Call me when you get home so I know you made it safe. Unless you want to come over and we can hit up Holiday Tap, stumble home tipsy in the snow?"
"Thanks, but I'm good." The last thing I wanted was to get tipsy around handsy tourists.
Sadly, the only other romantic options were the boys—now men—I'd grown up with here in town.
"You go and have a drink for me. There's a stew in my slow cooker that's calling out for that amazing potato bread you gave me. "
"Flattery will get you everywhere sweetheart."
"Okay, I'm leaving as soon as I finish loading up the dishes."
"Now, Nix! I'll do it in the morning. Unless, of course, you want to get stuck in town and sleep at the bakery?"
Ugh, she was right. "Nope. I'm leaving now," I promised as I gathered the day's leftovers for the Holiday Shelter that helped at-risk women, children and the unhoused. "Locking the door as we speak, which would be a lot easier with both hands."
Torey laughed. "Call me when you're home safe, okay?"
"Yep," I promised and tucked the phone into my pocket.
The drive through town never failed to lift my spirits, especially this time of year.
With Christmas just a week away, Holiday Grove had transformed into a wonderland of lights and decorations, each property adding its own festive signature to the display.
Our town was famous for its over-the-top celebrations, and it showed.
The week ahead would overflow with festivities, including a cookie bake-off where I'd judge alongside two festival-goers, and a tree decorating competition in the park. The Holiday Grove Carolers would make their rounds too, though I lived too far out for a personal serenade.
"Hey Sonya!" I greeted the shelter's director, a petite blonde with a pixie cut, who jumped up to help with the bags.
"Nix! I thought for sure you'd have gone home by now."
I shrugged, brushing snow from my coat. "Got caught up in work and missed the weather turning. Thank goodness Torey called to knock some sense into me. But I couldn't leave without dropping these off."
"Thank you so much! Everyone looks forward to this, especially the kids."
"No thanks needed. Making the kids smile and ensuring nothing goes to waste—it's perfect for everyone.
" Only Torey knew I deliberately made extra batches for the shelter during each shift.
Local ingredients and sustainable practices didn't mean I couldn't help those who needed it most. "There's a lemon bar in there just for you.
" Someone who worked as hard as Sonya deserved a treat.
"Thanks. See you tomorrow if this snow lets up."
After setting down the boxes, I hurried back to my double-parked car. The snowfall had intensified, forcing me to drive with extra caution. The last thing I needed was for the fire department to rescue me from a ditch. Slow down, I reminded myself whenever my foot grew heavy on the gas.
The Lancaster Development sign loomed ahead, wiping the smile from my face. "Stupid rich billionaire," I muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. I couldn't hate a man I'd never met, but his vision for our town? That I could despise with every fiber of my being.
He'd built skyscrapers and resorts worldwide, reshaping landscapes while his wealth multiplied.
Now his sights were set on Holiday Grove, specifically our beloved Silver Bell Mountains.
His proposed resort wouldn't just be an eyesore—it would rob the town of its iconic mountain view, something unforgivable in my book.
I'd pleaded our case to the mayor, who’d dismissed the town's petition against the project as shortsighted.
The only thing left to do was appeal to the heartless billionaire himself, which I’d also attempted, but he was always conveniently too busy, or out of town.
He couldn’t hide forever though.
Sooner or later he would have to show his face around here, and when he did, I planned to tell him exactly what I thought of him.