Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
MARISSA
The Old Mill District was Bend’s premier shopping area.
It was one of Marissa’s favorite spots to escape and spend an afternoon looking at the elaborate window displays.
Not that she could afford anything inside the fancy shops, but it was fun to daydream.
Plus, it served as a good inspiration for Yes, Cheese.
An afternoon wandering through the Old Mill District always spurred new ideas for arranging boards and little bonuses to tuck into her food presentations, like hand-painted chocolate mushrooms or pretty pastel mint candies with pearlized sprinkles.
During the holiday season, the historic industrial zone turned into a high-end shopping destination, reminding Marissa of a perfectly curated social media feed.
Blue and white snowflake lights and shimmery bundles of golden orbs hung from storefront windows.
A Christmas tree adorned with hundreds of vintage lights sat in the center of the square.
There were Victorian carolers decked out in Dickens-style costumes, serenading shoppers.
The air smelled of woodsmoke from outdoor fireplaces and pizza hot from the oven.
Marissa ignored shopkeepers’ offers for special discounts and a troupe of dancing reindeer on her way to the ice sculpture gallery.
The temporary art installation was commissioned by the city each year.
This year, the ice carving wasn’t one piece but rather a collection.
The artist had reimagined the North Pole.
Cottages with shingled rooflines, an entire elfin village, and Santa’s workshop had been constructed entirely from giant sheets of ice.
Given that most nights, temps in the high desert would linger in the low twenties long into spring, the whimsical ice showpiece was likely to hang around for a while.
William was waiting for her with one hand propped against a four-foot-tall ice candy cane. “It’s about time you showed up, Snow Princess.”
Marissa exhaled slowly, the firm knot in her chest loosening its grip a bit. At least he was back to playful mode. “Any luck?” she asked, not bothering to conceal the impatience in her tone. William might think this was all fun and games, but she had a singular goal: win.
“No. You made me swear on my life that I wouldn’t search without you.” He threw his hands up. “I like my life, so I’m keeping my promise. What about you? You would wait for me, too, right?”
“Of course,” Marissa lied. “Let’s get to it.” She walked around the ice village, hoping the clue would jump out at her. It didn’t. “Were there any other instructions?” she asked William after they’d given every ice castle a careful look.
“No.” William sounded mystified.
Twelve-to-fourteen-foot ice statues stood like pieces on a board game. Each had notes about the artist’s process and vision, but nothing resembled a Passport to the Holidays clue.
Marissa sighed, her breath puffing out in front of her like a billow of smoke. “You would think the next clue would be easy to spot. I mean, ice is clear, so there aren’t many places to hide a clue here.” She scanned the frosty village with its turrets and carved cobblestone pathways.
They must have the wrong place. There was no sign of Olivia or any other contestants. It was just her and William.
Damn.
They were already behind and had struck out.
“Should we look again? Maybe we missed something?” William suggested.
At that moment, a group of racers wearing T-shirts over their parkas with their team name Hoppy Holidays appeared from the opposite side of the ice village.
They stopped when they noticed William studying the sculpture.
“Hey, man, that’s a dead end. We wasted a bunch of time and came up with nothing. ”
“Thanks.” William gave the Hoppy Holidays team member a fist bump. “Appreciate the help.”
“No problem. We’re calling it a night and hitting the pub for pints.” The guy pointed to the frothy beer steins on his T-shirt. “Good luck.”
“So, I guess we’re back to square one,” William said to Marissa after the team continued. “That was nice of them.”
“Was it?” Marissa was skeptical. Maybe she was a cynic, but no part of her would offer free advice to their competition. They were in a race for fifty thousand dollars, not coupons for free scoops of peppermint ice cream or a complimentary ten-minute massage.
William looked confused. “Yeah, why?”
“What if they’re intentionally trying to throw us off? Maybe they already found the clue and don’t want anyone else to figure it out. That’s what I would do. I think we need to give the entire sculpture, each little ice building, another look.”
“You are ice-cold, Snow Princess.” William’s mouth hung slightly open. “Here I thought you were an innocent grazing table food designer—or is it stylist?”
He waited for Marissa to answer. When she didn’t, he continued. “Little did I know that you’re cutthroat. You’re serious about winning this, aren’t you?”
“I thought I made that perfectly clear. Yes. We are winning this. I need that fifty thousand.”
“Twenty-five,” William corrected her. “And probably more like fifteen or sixteen after taxes.”
Taxes. Splitting the winnings sucked. But fifteen or sixteen thousand would still easily give her enough cash for first and last months’ rent, plus enough left over to get her through early spring.
That was if she was careful about her spending and could bring in more clients for Yes, Cheese.
Yes, she could do this! She could expand and grow the business, build it into something solid, something with real, lasting potential.
She was scrappy and resourceful. She had gotten by on much less and could already picture landing gigs for summer weddings under the stars and fall barn parties with pretty, autumnal pumpkins and gourds.
“Whatever. I have a gut feeling about this. Let’s take another look.
A close look.” Marissa didn’t wait for him to respond.
She flipped on her flashlight app and scanned the first A-frame ice cottage.
It made sense that the organizers wouldn’t make the clue too obvious.
That wouldn’t be much fun, and a lot of money was on the line.
She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for, but the other team’s casual assistance had triggered her instincts.
“You’re the boss, but what am I looking for?” William asked, crouching down in the snow to get a better look at a tiny elf-sized door.
“I don’t know, but we’ll know when we see it.”
She searched the next house and then three more.
William had moved on to a collection of candy canes. “This seems like a waste of time. I doubt that team was trying to throw us off. It’s the holidays. They were probably just in the festive spirit.”
“Spoken like a Graff,” Marissa mumbled under her breath, not aware his hearing was so sharp.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He sounded hurt.
She moved on to Santa’s workshop. “This might be a joke to you. You have your trust fund and your family’s money, but winning Passport to the Holidays will be life-changing for me.
If that other team already found the clue and realized that teams like us are doing a quick look and giving up, it’s a brilliant strategy to offer up some free help under the guise of the holiday spirit when in reality, they want to win the sled of cash as much as I do. ”
“I want to win this, too.” William’s tone was serious. He stood up and met Marissa’s gaze head-on, the usual spark in his eyes replaced with something steadier and more intent. “Being a Graff has nothing to do with it.”
“Why?” She shot him a challenging look. “For bragging rights? To prove something to your parents?”
He let out a dry laugh and looked away. “Sure, something like that.”
Marissa could tell that she had offended him yet again. A small pang of guilt stirred, but she pushed it aside. This was about winning. She wasn’t here to make friends or play nice with the competition.
She went back to searching, undeterred by William. The cold returned to her fingertips and toes. Her nose started to drip, and her teeth began to chatter. This had to be right. It was the only thing that made sense.
William scanned the other side of the wintry village without saying another word. She had definitely offended him.
Oh well.
Hopefully, the message would sink in. This wasn’t a joke. If he couldn’t take this seriously, she had no problem leaving him behind.
“Hey, Marissa, come here.” He finally broke the silence, calling from behind the ice cottage. “I think I found something.”
Her pulse picked up as she hurried over to see what he had discovered.
“Shine that right here.” William pressed his finger on one of the scalloped shingles. “Is that writing?”
She leaned closer to see. Their shoulders touched. Marissa felt a jolt of heat run through her body. William’s lips were mere inches from hers. She could see his breath puffing out in cold, smoky waves and smell the hint of spicy cardamom lingering from his latte.
She had to resist leaning even closer.
God, what was wrong with her?
William Graff was her sworn enemy and potentially the only obstacle between her and a sled of cold, hard cash.
“What is it?” She squinted, crouching next to him.
“Right here. Do you see the candy cane etched in the shingle? It’s very subtle.” William reached for her free hand. He grasped her glove and pulled her hand to the spot on the roofline.
Marissa’s body betrayed her. Her breath caught in her throat.
She could feel her heartbeat in her chest. Their skin wasn’t even touching through their gloves, but just being this close to William felt dangerous.
Like he could easily remove every ounce of self-control she had with one brush of his lips.
Focus.
“You’re right,” Marissa replied. Did her voice sound wobbly? Or was it just her imagination?
“Can you make out what it says?” His breath was warm on her neck. His other hand slipped down around her waist.
Marissa couldn’t force herself to move away. “Uh, um, yeah. It’s another clue.” She inhaled and tried to concentrate on the words carved into the ice. “Pub paparazzi.”
“Pub paparazzi,” William repeated softly in her ear, making her entire body feel like it might give way.
They stood frozen for a second. Marissa could feel the beat of his heart against her back. It was fast and strong. She didn’t trust herself to breathe.
“That’s it, yeah?” William said. His voice was guttural, like it resonated deep in his throat. Every word that emerged sounded rich and velvety.
They were entering dangerous territory.
She finally leaned back, pulled away from him, and tried to regain her composure. “What does it mean? Could that be why the team mentioned heading to the pub?”
“Good question.” He cleared his throat and frowned. Had he felt the palpable energy between them, too? “And good call. I guess you were right.”
“Here’s the thing you should know about me: I’m always right,” Marissa teased, hoping her tone sounded light. She was still trying to calm the throbbing feeling in her stomach.
“‘Pub’ is another wide-open clue,” William said. “How many pubs does Bend have?”
“A lot.”
“And ‘paparazzi.’ Do we need to take pictures at each of them?”
“Oh, that’s a good thought. Do we enter this find on the app? Maybe once we do that, it will give us another hint.”
William was already on it. He leaned in again.
Marissa willed her body not to betray her. She suddenly felt a teenager with wildly fluctuating hormones again.
“Okay, yeah. We have our first points.” He gave her a high five, breaking the tension. “And it looks like we got bonus points for being among the top ten teams.”
“Really?” That was a huge relief. Marissa had been so sure they were at the back of the pack. “Does it say anything about pubs or paparazzi?”
He nodded. “Listen to this. ‘The Bend Ale Trail has it all. A holiday pint. A tasting bite. A photo op. A special stamp. Take the map, and don’t forget that you might get wet on this route.’”
“What?” Marissa made a face.
“We know the Ale Trail.”
“Sure, but are we supposed to go to every pub on the route?” Marissa scrunched her forehead, trying to decide if the clue would be that easy to crack.
The Bend Ale Trail was popular with locals and tourists.
The Chamber of Commerce offered free maps for craft beer lovers to follow and find large and small breweries throughout the high desert.
It was similar to Passport to the Holidays.
Beer lovers followed the map from brewery to brewery for tastings, tours, and special merch.
But there were at least a dozen stops on the map. How could they possibly hit each one?
“Good question.” William reviewed the clue. “It doesn’t say. That’s it. We need to log this clue by the end of day Tuesday, so I guess it’s good that we found the first clue tonight.”
“But ‘get wet’?” Marissa was stumped. “Could it have something to do with the Deschutes? I mean, it’s certainly not white rafting season.”
“What if it’s that?” William snapped his fingers together like he’d cracked the code. “Deschutes Brewery? It’s on the river.”
“Maybe.” She twisted her head from side to side. “That feels too easy again. Doesn’t it?”
“There’s one way to find out.” William glanced at his watch. “They’re open for another hour. Should we try? If we’re wrong, we can meet up again tomorrow.”
“Sure.” Marissa nodded. “That sounds good.”
She couldn’t believe that she meant it. Was she looking forward to spending more time with William Graff?