Chapter 3
3
“ I s that dog wearing antlers?” Haywood stared at the tan and beige mutt sitting in the doorway to Ginger’s office. The pitiful way his head drooped, eyes looking up as is asking, “What did I do to deserve this?” resonated with how Haywood felt this morning.
What had he done to deserve this aimless existence? Hopping from job to job because nothing fulfilled him. Nothing inspired joy or excitement. Nothing was a challenge. The executive positions he’d accepted since leaving Holloway Holdings last December were little more than fancy titles with few, if any, actual duties. At least the job Dayton hired him for had a definitive purpose. His findings could make or break the company. Ultimately, Dayton and his board of advisors would make that decision, but the information Haywood reported back had to be accurate.
Damn. The solitude that came with the remote beach house where he was staying gave him too much time to think. He was questioning everything about his life, each string of thoughts leading to the same existential question: Why was he here?
Having spent the weekend tossing and turning, he’d counted on burying himself in paperwork to keep the bothersome thoughts at bay. Instead, he was face to face with a sad dog decked out in felt antlers.
“You and me both, buddy.” He broke off a piece of the croissant he’d picked for breakfast with his coffee from Caffeine Beach and offered it to the dog. The mutt sniffed then gently tugged it from his fingers. “Good boy.”
His first impulse was to tell Marietta, or whoever brought the dog in, to get rid of the beast. Animals didn’t belong in furniture showrooms. But this guy was already having a rough day. No need to make it worse.
“His name is Max.” Ginger appeared out of nowhere, startling him. He dropped the croissant, fully expecting the dog to snatch it up in one bite, but he just sat there, a hopeful look lighting his expression.
“Go on, get it.” Haywood sighed. He could hike back to the coffee shop or grab something from the goody basket next to the coffeemaker in the conference room. Goodies supplied by Ginger, which meant there was a good chance of encountering something in the shape of a stocking or snowman tasting of cinnamon. God, the woman certainly had an obsession with that one spice.
“What’s on the agenda this morning?” She smoothed her hair behind one ear, the loose waves falling like silk to just below her shoulders. In green tailored slacks and a white silk blouse that draped flatteringly over the swell of her breasts, the kitschy Christmas lightbulb necklace and earrings seemed more fun than frivolous.
“Analyzing tax records,” he replied, distracted by the way the shiny ornaments peeked between strands of hair.
“I have a better idea.” She smiled, bright teeth dazzling him into a true state of befuddlement.
Giving his head a little shake to dislodge the wayward thoughts, he sipped his coffee. Weird, he thought. It still tasted like cinnamon, even though he’d ordered a black medium roast.
“Since you’re going to be here a few months, let me show you around. There are some folks in Love Beach you should meet.” She took a step closer, not quite invading his personal space but creating a cocoon of privacy around them. “It will be helpful when you make your recommendations to the company’s new owner.”
“I don’t see how?—”
“Indulge me, Mr. Holloway.” She shrugged, each glazed piece of glass reflecting the overhead lights, making it seem like stars danced around her head and shoulders. “We didn’t get off to a positive start last week, and I’d like to make it up to you. Give me a do-over. It won’t take long to tour Love Beach, and I promise to share the locals’ favorites. Some of the places on the edge of town cater more to the tourists.” Her voice dropped as is confiding with a conspirator.
For a moment, he felt like an insider. As if he belonged to some secret collaboration led by Love Beach’s own Christmas elf. “All right.”
“Great! Are you ready to leave now or do you need to check email?”
“Now is as good a time as any.”
“Great,” she repeated. “I’ll meet you at the front door in five.”
Five minutes later, Ginger and Max approached from the back of the showroom. She’d added a green cardigan to her outfit, the buttons a match to her jewelry.
“Do you have a Christmas sweater for every day of the month?” he asked.
“Two for each day. That’s why I start wearing them in November.”
He exchanged a look with Max, who seemed to echo his sentiments. The lady is a little cray-cray. Christmas cray-cray.
“Is he coming with us?” Haywood nodded toward the dog.
“Yes. He’s on loan from the Love Beach Animal Shelter. Odette Bell, a friend of mine, manages the shelter. A local benefactor donated land and funding to build a dedicated facility when the property they’d been renting was sold to developers.” Ginger shook a keyring. “I’ll drive.”
They crossed the gravel-strewn parking lot, the day brisk but sunny, stopping at a silver Toyota RAV4 with an evergreen wreath affixed to the front end.
“Why am I not surprised?” He couldn’t hold back a grin.
She shrugged and smiled back. “What can I say? I love Christmas.”
Once Max was situated in the back and seat belts were fastened, Ginger turned left on the two-lane blacktop road. The furniture factory was a few miles outside of town, so she used the time for a brief overview of Love Beach and the surrounding area.
“Like many small coastal towns, most of the revenue is generated by vacationers and tourists. Seventy percent of businesses and services cater to that clientele. Hotels, bed and breakfasts, restaurants, bars, specialty shop, art galleries, that sort of thing. Outdoor recreation is a biggie, and there’s been an increase in amenities like boating, fishing, paddleboarding, surfing, kayaking, windsurfing, and paragliding. There’s a new campground opening up south of town next spring.”
“That’s an impressive array of options for visitors.”
“Keyword visitors. ” She waited for a semi hauling timber to pass before turning left. “Residents patronize the local businesses, but living here is much different than vacationing here. Tourists come for the sunshine and beaches. Residents choose to live here not only for the moderate climate and coastal lifestyle, but for the small-town values—creating a strong, ethical community, looking out for our neighbors, leaving Love Beach better than we found it.”
“That sounds like something you’d read on a bumper sticker.”
Her laughter was hearty and spontaneous. “You can buy them at City Hall and several shops around town.”
Cruising along Cove Cliff Road, Haywood took in the panoramic view of Passion Cove and Love Point Pier. He wondered if someone from the Hallmark Channel had been in charge of naming local destinations because it seemed like the set of a cheesy movie where everything revolved around romance and seduction and falling in love.
Maybe he should audition for leading man. Then he might stand at chance at finding someone who cared about him for who he was, not his family name or standing in society. Ginger, with her gaudy holiday attire and over the top enthusiasm for all things Christmas, fit right in with the Love Beach extremism.
“Are you married?”
Ginger jerked the wheel, startled by his question. She recentered the vehicle between the lines marking the lane before answering.
“No. Never married. No kids.”
“By choice?” The door was open now, no going back, so he figured he would satisfy his curiosity. Ginger seemed oblivious to her feminine appeal, and in a small town like this, she must be a huge temptation to the single guys. She should have been snatched up a long time ago.
“If you haven’t guessed, I lean toward idealism. Christmas, for me, is just as sappy and sweet as portrayed in any Hollywood movie or greeting card. I feel the same way about relationships. Soulmates, true love, and all that.”
“Waiting for Mr. Right, huh?”
“What about you?”
“Never married. No children.”
There was a long pause and then she asked, “Did you ever come close?”
Aha . Someone had been checking him out online.
“My fiancée cheated on me. With my older brother. Now they’re married.”
“Your family didn’t have an issue with that?”
The offense in her tone, on his behalf, triggered a blast of fire in his chest. Something hard and jagged-edged softened, and for the first time in months, he could breathe. Figuratively. Mentally. Emotionally. He’d walked out Christmas Eve and cut all ties with his family, so in truth, he didn’t know how his parents or sisters felt about Margo and Johnston getting married.
“I haven’t spoken to my family in almost a year.” There. He finally admitted the truth out loud, and the sky had not fallen.
“That’s sad. Especially during the holidays.” She cocked her head a tiny bit, considering. “Real life isn’t like a movie or storybook. I wish it were.”
“Is everyone in your family a Christmas fanatic like you?” he teased, still intrigued but wanting to lighten the mood.
“It’s just me.” She slowed as they approached the center of town, mindful of pedestrians as she scouted out a parking spot. Even on a Monday morning, there was sidewalk traffic. Love Beach might be a small town, but it was bustling.
“The only fanatic?”
“No, the only Folly.” She nosed into a vertical space and twisted the key. “My grandfather raised me after my parents died in a car accident. He passed away during my second year of college. It’s been ten years, but I miss him every day. Especially during Christmas.”
“Was he a fanatic, too?”
Her smile was soft and pained, the combination of memories and grief twisted into a single strand. “I still have several of his ugly Christmas sweaters. I donated more than a hundred to the thrift store after he died. They also got a good portion of his decoration collection. I kept our favorites.”
Haywood couldn’t ignore the sting of envy when he compared their legacies. She’d lost a beloved grandfather who taught her to embrace the joy and true meaning of Christmas. What did he have? A legacy that valued outward appearances and imposed oppressive expectations that weighed down dreams and goals.
“Ready?” She held Max’s leash in one hand, keys in the other, ready to exit the SUV.
When he arrived in Love Beach, Dayton’s assignment felt like another distraction. Something to keep him busy until he made a decision about what to do with the rest of his life. Should he return to Charleston and fall back into line…or was something bigger and better, beyond all his expectations, out there waiting for him.
It was time to find out.