Chapter 6
Beck
I'd had several meetings with Malcolm, Callum, and Rowan to tour the property and discuss the plans for the brewery. They were looking for advice and possibly an investor.
It was an interesting project. I generally didn't get involved in family-run businesses because they didn't always heed my advice. But I had ties to Malcolm and wanted him to succeed.
I'd finally worn Clara down. She'd agreed to meet me in her Christmas shop when she closed at five today. I wasn't sure why Judy had insisted that Clara give me a tour when Malcolm could do it. But at the same time, it was a good excuse to see Clara.
I knew I should stay away from her. That nothing could happen between us again. But I couldn't resist seeing her one more time.
For some reason, her reluctance to meet with me only made me want to push harder. That wasn't something I wanted to examine too closely.
I hadn't visited Christmas Town yet, wanting to reserve that for Clara. I wanted to determine whether the area could sustain a brewery. Would people want to drive out of town to visit, or would their customer base be the local hikers and inn guests?
I loved this part of my research. It allowed me to sample the restaurants and shops and get to know the locals. Plus, I'd get to see Clara again, which was an added bonus.
I had a feeling I got to her, and that only made me want her more.
At ten minutes before our meeting time, I parked on the curb near her shop, taking in the holiday decorations and the quaint feel of the town.
I could see why people visited or even stayed at the Mistletoe Inn in town; the place was like its own world.
I was positive it felt more like that when it was off-season.
If you wanted to feel the magic of the holiday season, you merely needed to visit Christmas Town for a few hours.
I intended to walk around town, maybe grab a coffee, but now that I was here, I wanted to see Clara's shop.
If I could enter undetected, I could watch her work.
My heart rate picked up as I walked toward her store and pushed open the door.
A bell tinkled overhead indicating my arrival, but Clara was standing next to a customer, facing away from me.
It allowed me to walk in undetected. I perused the displays of trees. Each one seemed to have a different theme. I kept an eye on Clara. All I could hear from this distance was a murmuring of voices. There were a few other people, including a mother and her young child, shopping.
I was sure it was the busiest time of year for her. At dinner, someone had said she'd taken the shop over from her grandmother. I wondered if that was something Clara wanted to do, or was it more of an obligation? What would she be doing if she wasn't running this store?
Would she want to leave the area and work for someone else? I enjoyed my freedom. I chose the projects I worked on and traveled whenever and wherever I chose. I loved the freedom. And I could see how being tied to one store would be stifling. I wondered if she felt that way or if she was content.
Her family was great so I couldn't blame her if she wanted to stay nearby. The entire family worked together on the property except for Clara. I wondered if that was something she wanted, or had she felt like there was no place for her?
I was coming up with more questions than I could answer. And I had a feeling she wouldn't want to share those details with me yet. I was only a one-night stand. You didn't usually get to know them at a later date.
I was in over my head, in a situation that I'd never encountered before. It felt a little bit like a land mine. I wanted to keep the balance between Clara and her brothers, but any misstep and it could blow up in my face.
For some reason, I was excited to get closer to the heat, to push the boundaries of this situation. That was crazy, because I didn't want to ruin my friendship with Malcolm or violate his trust. And I most certainly had done that by sleeping with Clara.
Clara said a few more words to the customer, and then they walked away. She lifted her gaze to meet mine, but she didn't smile.
If anything, I swore she sighed. Was she upset that I was here? Maybe she preferred never seeing me again, not wanting to relive that night.
But as she walked toward me, her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her eyes danced around, avoiding mine. I stood in place, refusing to look away.
"You're early."
I glanced at my phone. "Five minutes."
"The shop's not closed yet."
I flashed her an easy smile. "I wanted to take a look around." I had a feeling if she wasn't working, she would have growled in frustration at me. That only made me smile wider. This thing with Clara was entertaining, and there was nowhere else I wanted to be.
"Fine," she said as she headed toward another customer.
I continued to peruse the space while keeping an ear open for her interactions. She was polite, offering to help them search for whatever they needed. She was obviously knowledgeable about the ornaments and her stock.
I wondered if selling ornaments was something she wanted to do. She was professional but I wouldn't say that she was passionate about what she was selling.
She checked out the last customer, and I finished my tour of the store. There was a backroom with long tables, and I wondered if she hosted classes in that space. If not, that would be a good opportunity for another stream of income. It was hard to turn off the business side of my brain.
I moved to the front of the store where Clara was counting the money in the till and inputting the numbers on her laptop.
"Would you mind locking the door? I'm just finishing up here. Then I'll need to walk the cash to the bank."
I flipped the sign from Open to Closed and turned the deadbolt. "All done."
"Thank you," she said absentmindedly, her brow furrowed in concentration.
I leaned against the counter, waiting for her to be done. She counted the money a second time and put it into a sleeve. "Are you ready to get out of here?"
"You're not giving me a tour of the store?" I asked as she moved out from behind the counter.
"Didn't you already do one?" she said dryly.
"I like how you have it set up with the different themes. Do your customers tend to buy one, to the exclusion of others?"
"When they check out, they've mentioned that they wouldn't have thought to do a theme. So they seem to like it. It's one of the things that makes us different."
She grabbed her coat and pulled her purse over her shoulder.
I unlocked the door and held it open for her. "Have you studied other ornament shops?"
She buttoned her jacket as she stepped outside.
"When I first inherited the shop, I researched similar businesses to see if there was anything else I could do to bring in customers.
Gran had mentioned that sales had continued to decline over the years.
How many ornaments do you need? Once you buy them, aren't you done for years? That seems to be an issue."
I fell in step with her. "This is usually something I research and provide options for business owners."
"I didn't find much. Most stores sell Christmas ornaments year-round. I could branch out to lawn ornaments, but the local Christmas tree farms tend to offer those."
"What about classes in that backroom?"
She paused. "I've thought about it, but I'm not an artist."
"What if you rented the room out to artists? You'd get more people in the shop when they arrive for the class. I find that events like that can regenerate a stale business."
She raised a brow. "Are you saying my business is stale?"
"You said yourself that business has been steadily declining."
She let out a breath. "It's a nice idea. I'd love to bring in another stream of income."
"Most local artists don't want to lease a storefront. It's expensive and rarely profitable. Renting a room is cheaper, and they'd only spend the money when they are hosting a class. Not all the time."
She smiled. "I'm impressed."
"That I gave you a business idea? I can't seem to turn that part of my brain off."
"I'm not sure the business itself is the issue. I've just been bored lately." She sighed, and then said, "Let's grab something warm to drink."
She stopped at the entrance to Coffee Dreams, and I opened the door. The shop itself had comfortable-looking leather chairs, a fire burning in the fireplace, and holiday decorations throughout. One person was at the counter, so we got in line.
"What are you getting?"
A small smile played on her lips. "A gingerbread latte. My favorite."
I'd have to remember that. Although why I'd need to know my friend's sister's preferred latte was unclear. When it was our turn, she ordered, and then I asked for a coffee. I tapped my card before she could get hers out.
As we moved to the end of the counter to wait for our drinks, she said, "I didn't intend for you to buy me a coffee."
"I pay when I'm out with a woman."
She shook her head. "I'm showing you around town. Like I promised my mom."
I touched my hand to my chest. "Ouch. I feel like the guy who can't get a prom date, so his mom talks to your mom to arrange it."
She laughed. "Somehow I doubt you were ever that guy."
I waggled my brows. "I could have been a dork in school."
She grinned. "I'd have to see evidence of that."
I tipped my head to the side as if I was thinking about it.
I wasn't one of those kids who wanted to collect signatures on a yearbook to prove their popularity, not that my parents would have ordered me one.
It wasn't a necessary expense, and I'd stopped asking for things like that when I was younger.
"I don't have a yearbook, so you'll have to take my word for it. "
"I'm sure Malcolm has some incriminating pictures from college." She bumped her shoulder against my arm.
I shuddered. "No one needs to see pictures from college."
"At least I know where to get material if I need it," she quipped.
"You're as bad as your brother you know that?" I murmured.
She laughed, and my heart seemingly skipped a beat while I watched the pure delight on her face. That was a sound I hadn't heard the other night.
"Beck." The barista set two cups on the counter.
We approached, reached for the cups, and added sleeves. Then carried our drinks outside.
On the sidewalk, she asked, "What are you interested in seeing?"
She was more serious than she had been inside. I wondered if she was trying to create distance between us.
"I want to see everything."
She sighed heavily as if it was a burden. "Let's start here, and we'll walk both sides of the street."
We started walking, and I asked her the one thing that had bugged me since I realized who she was, "Why don't you work at the inn?"
Her expression shuddered. "I don't see what that has to do with the tour."
I wanted to see the town, but I was more interested in her and what made her tick. "I want to get to know you and this town. You run a shop here."
"I'm friends with the other shop owners. We rally together whenever there's a problem. But it's not a regular town. It's more of a destination, a fantasy. A few of the shop owners live in town, because it's convenient.”
"I've heard of a few of these over the year, but this is the biggest one I've seen. In Tennessee, there's a hotel with a few shops but not an entire town."
Her lips quirked. "So you're saying it's special."
"You already know that."
She sipped her latte. "I guess so, but it's nice to hear."
"So why did you choose your grandmother's shop over the inn?"
She was quiet for so long; I didn't think she was going to answer.
"It was never a choice. Not really. I assumed I'd work at the inn or on the property in some capacity.
My parents always talked about keeping it in the family and creating this legacy for our children.
But when I moved home, it was clear there wasn't a place for me.
" She shrugged. "Then my grandmother died, and someone had to take over her shop. "
"Did they?"
"It was that or sell. No one wanted to see it closed."
"But why did you have to take it over?"
"I was closest to my grandmother. We had a special bond. I think because I was the only girl and the youngest. I never quite fit in, and Gran saw that."
"You never considered what you might want to do?"
She frowned. "I just assumed I'd be part of the business. I hadn't considered that it wasn't big enough for the six of us, and I don't have another skill that would provide value like Rowan with his brewery or Boone with his woodworking."
"How do you feel about that?"
She laughed softly. "How am I supposed to feel?"
We continued to walk slowly down the sidewalk, not looking at anything, but I was aware of other people walking with their shopping bags, the holiday music playing from the outside speakers, and the elaborate window displays. "I don't think there's a set thing you're supposed to feel."
She shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't thought much about it."
She either wasn't being honest with me or herself. There was no way she didn't feel something about there not being a place for her in the family business. I could see how she might feel hurt or even left out.
I was even more intrigued by her than I was before. I was getting bits and pieces of her but not the whole picture.