Chapter 4 #2
“When I see everyone coming through the gates in the morning into Winter Wonderland,” she said.
“Usually there’s a big crowd waiting at the rope drop in front of the large Christmas tree.
When enough people have gathered, we switch on the lights and you should hear the squeals of excitement!
There’s something about it that gets me every time.
The kids are so cute in their hats and gloves, their faces shining… ” She trailed off.
Nick gave her a look that made her stomach flip and the snow globe in her stomach settled down, like she stood in the center of the first December snow.
“That’s joy, Cora.”
Joy. Sure. In her experience, joy was like Santa Claus: a lovely fiction that you could package up and sell but it didn’t keep you warm at night. It didn’t love you back.
“If you say so,” she said. “What about you?”
“My favorite thing?” he asked, and she nodded. “Getting the germ of an idea for a new toy then going into my workshop and tinkering around until it comes to life in my hands.”
“You’re such a nerd about toymaking.”
“Guilty.” He held his hands up. “It’s one of my true passions.”
“True passion. Joy. You’re not like most people,” she said.
“Neither are you.”
“Why do you say that? I’m just your everyday, normal workaholic,” she said dismissively, trying to think of how to change the subject.
She felt very afraid that this man who looked at her and really saw her, who saw through the festive accessories and the Queen-of-Christmas facade, who made her skin tingle and her tummy do somersaults, would find out the terrible, awful truth.
The unforgiveable secret at the heart of her pragmatic, sales-oriented attitude.
Cora Quill hated Christmas.
She worked as many hours as she could to ensure the month of December flew by.
To make certain she didn’t have to stop and think about the desperate lie she was flogging to gullible families: that Christmas mattered, that Christmas could fix broken hearts and broken homes, that Christmas could heal a sad little girl who never got the miracle she’d so desperately needed.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts.
“There’s nothing everyday about you,” he said, cocking his head to one side and eyeing her intently. “Has no one ever told you how special you are?”
She almost wanted to believe him, but she knew better. Cora Quill wasn’t special.
She spent so much of her time focusing on metrics, but he’d glimpsed the magic inside her.
Christmas wasn’t about metrics, but he wasn’t going to convince her with words.
He’d have to show her—once he got her working in his booth at the Winter Wonderland, she’d come to see the true meaning of the season. He just knew she would.
His phone, which was lying face-up on the table between them, pinged with notifications from the True North dating app. She glanced down, and he saw her flush.
Damn.
“Oh God, are you on that dating app?” Was she teasing him? He couldn’t tell.
“Clearly. Also, reading other people’s notifications isn’t cool.”
“I’m a big reader. It’s force of habit.”
“All habits can be changed with a little effort and commitment.”
She shrugged. “It’s hard because reading was my escape as a child. It’s ingrained. Surely you have some habits that are rooted in your childhood.”
“What—?” he began to ask, but she stopped him by raising her forefinger.
“No. We’re done talking about me. Your turn. Isn’t True North the app that promises to find your soulmate? That’s a big ask for an algorithm,” she said.
“It is,” he admitted.
She leaned back in her chair, handing her half-finished bowl of chowder to the server who hovered nearby. She pulled out her compact and lipstick and reapplied it, watching him watch her over the top of her mirror. “Is that what you’re looking for? A soulmate?”
“Yes. I’d like to get married,” he said. This month, ideally. But Cora didn’t need to know that. “My family business requires that I be married to continue in my role as the CEO.”
“That’s weird.” She frowned at him. “Marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Like so many illusions we buy into, eventually reality sets in and then someone leaves. Someone always leaves.” She snapped the lid back on her lipstick and clicked her compact shut.
“So no plans to—?”
“God, no! I’m never getting married.” The fierceness of her delivery left him in no doubt she was serious.
This was the first time it occurred to him that loneliness could be at the root of the tangle in her knot in the Yearweave. Maybe she needed someone to share her life with? Not him, but someone who could make her believe in love and the innate goodness of people.
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience…” he said, trailing off to entice her to tell him more.
“My parents. They got married because my mom was pregnant with me.” Cora reached for her cocktail glass and took a sip.
His eyes were drawn to the perfect image of her lips now pressed to the rim of the glass, when he finally managed to tear his eyes away, she stared blankly over his shoulder. Was she looking into her past?
“And … it didn’t work out?” he asked to break her painful reverie.
“Famously. They despise each other. My father managed to marry again with no better result second time around. Watching them grow to hate each other has convinced me to stay single. I’m way happier than they are.”
The woman who was basically a stranger to joy was … happy? He didn’t believe it for a second.
“What is it that makes you happy?” he asked.
This was what he’d been hoping to uncover tonight.
Everyone was a product of their childhood.
Those early memories shaped every adult he knew.
His had been bathed in Christmas magic and the joy of giving.
His delight in making toys that brought pleasure to children on Christmas morning was a direct result of how his parents had raised him in love and warmth and harmony with all the souls on Earth. Perhaps she hadn’t been fortunate.
“Happiness to me is security. No loud arguments. My own home. My own space. Being able to afford to eat dinner every night,” she said.
She shook her head and twisted the stem of her cocktail glass between anxious fingers. “I never talk this much about myself or my past. What is it about you, Nick? Have you put a spell on me or something?”
“This might shock you, but many people find me naturally charming and easy to talk to,” he replied.
“Well, I’ve shared more than I meant to. I think this is my cue to leave.”
She waved at the server and made the motion for the check. “Will you bring the mock-up by my office tomorrow? I need it before my 10 am meeting with the board. I’m going to get marketing all over this.”
“Yes, I’ll have Buddy bring it by. You’ll need to install the app on your phone if you’re going to demonstrate how to use it,” Nick said, letting her change the subject.
He had a lot to think about, and he didn’t want to push her too hard before she was ready.
He was more determined than ever to find a way to get her on the Nice List but as of this moment he wasn’t sure exactly how to achieve it.
“Can you send it to me?”
He did, and she checked to make sure it would work on her phone. “If you run into any problems give me a call. I’ll walk you through it.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” she said, taking the check when the server put it down and slipping her credit card inside.
“Thanks for all your hard work. You’ll make sure I get the prototype for The Today Show?” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to seeing you on December first for our kickoff,” she said.
“Send me all the details. I’ll need to set up my booth on November thirtieth.”
“You’ll get an email with all the info. Since you’re the featured retailer, you’ll have priority over the other vendors. As you … requested”—he didn’t miss the subtle inflection—“I’ll reach out to the other vendors and see if they are available.”
“Good. We need to have as many different options in the toy market as we can. That’s what sparks—”
“If you say joy—”
“Creativity. Though you do seem obsessed with joy…”
“No, you are. You’re the one who keeps bringing it up.”
“Am I, though?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Yes. Thanks for this, Nick. I’m so impressed with the WonderHaus.”
“Makes you think maybe you shouldn’t have fired me?”
“No. I think it was those lean years that made you hungry. Today you hit it out of the park because of that,” she said, signing the check and then standing up. “I’ll see you soon.”
As she fluffed her hair, a whiff of peppermint floated toward him.
His eyes drifted down to her lips, still shiny with bright red lipstick.
She pursed them, her eyes on him as she did so.
Her wink took him by surprise but before he could recover, she turned and walked out of Frosty Jack’s, those long legs of hers making her hips sway with each step.
The dating app pinged again, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from Cora’s retreating form.
When she finally disappeared from sight, he dropped his head in his hands and let out an enormous sigh.
He needed a Mrs. Claus, like, tomorrow. A woman on the Naughty List was the absolute last person who should have him awkwardly adjusting his jeans to hide just how much he’d like to have those red, red lips pressed against every inch of his body.