Hope and Hot Chocolate on Mistletoe Lane (Birch Tree Farm #3)

Chapter 1

HOLLY

November

It was the start of the Christmas season, but I couldn’t sum up any festive excitement. I stared at the calendar on my laptop screen with a sinking feeling. The tenth of November should have heralded the busiest time of year for my events company Wynter Wishes. Instead…

‘Nothing.’

‘Say something?’ my best friend Georgia asked, looking up from her laptop as she sat opposite me in our local Starbucks.

We were at our favourite table in the corner that looked out over the park, the only bit of green in our area of the city.

Gingerbread lattes were beside each of us along with a gingerbread muffin.

Neither were cheering me up like they usually would.

‘Yeah,’ I said, leaning back in my chair away from the disappointingly empty calendar.

‘My phone hasn’t rung all week. No email enquiries.

No messages on social media. And it’s November!

We’re entering peak party season. I should be busy, not worrying about how I’m going to pay my rent at the end of this month. ’

‘Shit, Holly,’ Georgia said, peering around her screen. ‘Are things that bad? It’s Grant, it has to be. You’re great.’ She scowled at the mention of my former boss Grant Rivers.

Everyone who met me and Georgia wondered if we were sisters, with our similar long blonde hair, green eyes framed by glasses (hers tortoiseshell, mine black) and our taller-than-average heights.

We’d met at university as assigned roommates, and have been inseparable ever since.

The only change now were the two rings on her left hand.

I scowled back. ‘Unless I’m just rubbish at events.

’ But deep down, I knew I wasn’t. I was excellent at organising; I loved taking my clients’ big ideas and moving mountains to bring them to fruition.

I loved walking into an event I had created and feeling a buzz in my bones when I saw people enjoying themselves.

I’d studied business at university and always wanted to set up my own company.

But I knew I needed to learn all the ropes first.

I joined an events company run by Grant Rivers who had become my mentor, encouraging me and letting me take on bigger and bigger clients.

I always said I wanted to run my own company one day and he seemed supportive but when I told him it was time for me to try, he got really aggressive and said he wouldn’t give me a reference or let me have any client testimonials.

Instead, he’d told me to leave instantly.

I was shocked by his sudden hostility and left under a cloud.

I’d managed to run a couple of events for friends but it had now been six months since I started the business, and things had stalled to a halt.

Georgia was convinced he had bad-mouthed me to clients and the industry and that’s why no one was giving me a chance.

‘My wedding was the best this city has seen in ten years,’ Georgia said, disagreeing with me.

I smiled. It had been a magical wedding. The first I’d organised myself under my new company name and I thought it was the start of big things but it had been tumbleweed since.

‘Grant was a little bitch about you moving on to bigger and better things,’ she continued. ‘I always said there was something shady about him. I mean, he came on to you then tried to pretend it never happened – unbelievable.’

I shuddered, thinking back to that day. I always wondered whether that was the beginning of the end of our good working relationship. He made me feel like I’d got it all wrong but I was certain I hadn’t.

‘He must have blacklisted you around the city. It’s the only explanation. Shall we call him? Key his car? March into his office and—’

‘Georgia,’ I interrupted her flow, which I knew would only get more outlandish if she continued.

‘I already did call him, didn’t I? He denied all knowledge.

And remember how one of my old clients wanted me to organise their Christmas party but then cancelled, saying they had too many overheads?

But then I found out my old firm was doing it instead.

Grant must have said something to make her go with him instead of me.

But if he won’t admit it or stop bad-mouthing me, then I’m screwed. With a capital S!’

We stared at each other, both deflated. If I couldn’t pay my rent, I might get kicked out of my flat. And my business might fold before it even got going. My head pounded from the pressure.

‘You could move in with me and The Husband,’ Georgia said then. Still shocked that she had agreed to marry a man when our exes before him had all been dicks frankly, she still referred to Lucas as The Husband. But he’d won us both over immediately and we couldn’t believe Georgia was now A Wife.

‘And sleep where? On your two-seater sofa?’

She flopped back in her chair. ‘City prices, one-bed apartments, ugh.’

I nodded along with her and reached for my latte, drinking the sugary warmth in the hopes it would perk me up. ‘I might have to find a job. Leave Wynter Wishes behind,’ I said, the thought making me feel a bit sick after all the effort I’d put in so far.

Before Georgia could respond, my phone buzzed on the table beside me. We both stared at it. It was an unknown number.

‘My phone is ringing,’ I said, my pulse picking up. ‘Could be someone demanding money…’

‘Or a new client! Answer it!’ Georgia cried eagerly.

I crossed my fingers for the latter and picked it up. ‘Wynter Wishes. How can I help?’

‘Holly Wynter? Is that you?’ a woman asked.

‘Yes,’ I replied cautiously. ‘Who am I speaking to?’

‘Do you remember me? It’s Willow Connor, from Birch Tree Farm. We went to Birchbrook High together?’

My pulse picked up further. I stared across the table at Georgia mouthing, ‘Who is it?’ as my mind instantly went back to the last time I was in my hometown.