Hilarious, Heartfelt, and...Just the beginning!
A sweet and sexy, feel-good, coming of age rom-com.
100% privacy guaranteed.
A sweet and sexy, feel-good, coming of age rom-com.
100% privacy guaranteed.
If you Love Christmas and Romance this is your book! It made me feel like I was watching an Adorable Hallmark Christmas movie with a bit more Swoon.
Harlow Hill is destined to spend the holidays lonely and alone in her Victorian mansion.
Harris Porter has plans to skip the holidays to land a huge business deal.
One little Christmas letter, and the magic of the most wonderful time of the year, might change both of their plans.
Is love an unexpected gift they’ll both receive before the season is through?
Harlow Hill loves everything about Christmas: the snow, the lights, the love, the magic. But this year, the wonder has fallen a bit short. And she definitely doesn’t want to spend another holiday in her spectacular Victorian mansion alone.
Harris Porter wants success. As far as he’s concerned, Christmas is just another day eating into his timeline and profits. The last thing he needs is to be forced into wasting his time on tedious
Christmas festivities.
With a little help from Santa Claus, a Christmas letter, and a man who’d just as well skip Christmas to make a quick buck, will Harlow find magic in the season again? Or, will she find much more?
Beautiful! This book was so heart warming. It really showed the joy and beauty of Christmas! Reading it put me in a joyful Christmas mood! Absolutely loved it! 100% recommend!
Amazon Customer
Harlow Hill had been listening to Christmas music since July. She told herself it was because of the job. Her clients started putting together holiday commercials, print advertisements, and plans for their festive – and usually over-the-top – holiday parties even before their Independence Day events were over.
But she knew, even without the big-ticket clients and events, she would still be yearning for Christmas. She would be sneaking in a holiday music session while working out, or turning the air conditioning up at The Hill – her inherited Victorian mansion on Summit Avenue – and throwing on some cozy winter pajamas, opening a bottle of eggnog, and settling in for the Hallmark Channel’s Christmas in July event.
Thank God somebody out there had the right mind to air adorable, romantic Christmas movies when the temperature outside was ninety-eight and the air so humid your glasses would fog up just moving from inside to out.
Sally, who was preparing to give her weekly project update, was just as excited about it as Harlow. Though she was usually a little less restrained and reserved in her presentation.
“Hi! Good morning! Are you ready for our update?” Sally asked as she bounded into Harlow’s office, her words a mixture of singing and shouting.
Sally, Harlow noted upon her entrance, was wearing the same winter white color of the walls and the same red accent. Only instead of concrete, her sweater was a chunky knit, and instead of red picture frames and vases, her earrings and necklace were a mixture of berry-red beads and feathers.
Harlow couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiastic young woman. Sally wasn’t unlike Harlow had been as a young marketing and advertising executive. Maybe that’s why she’d always had a soft spot for the vibrant, and ambitious brunette.
“I am absolutely ready. Come in. Who else is joining today?” Harlow gestured to the leather chesterfield sofa across from her desk, and Sally sat.
Harlow knew Sally wouldn’t need any of the staff to help in the breakdown of every excruciating and finite detail of their plans, but Sally – and Harlow too, admittedly – loved having the room filled and hearing from the team as they recounted the status of the projects they owned. All of them were competitive, but overwhelmingly supportive.
“We’ll have Ryan and Vanessa. Jacquelyn is on-site setting up for her skating event this weekend. Which, if I might add, is amazing.” Sally said, while her hazel eyes grew two sizes, letting a dreamy haze cloud across them as she looked off into the distance. “Her decision to go with A Log Cabin Christmas theme was dead-on. The evergreens she brought in are the perfect pine green, and they are adorned with these chunky amber lights, fragrant cinnamon pinecones, red robin ornaments, and the presents are wrapped in buffalo-check paper. Seriously, it’s like walking into an LL Bean catalog.”
“Oh my God, are you talking about A Log Cabin Christmas?” Vanessa asked, catching the last couple words while running through the door. Attempting to be on time once this week, and to not spill her coffee upon entry. “It is glorious and rugged perfection. It makes me want to live in a cabin and dress in plaid.”
Vanessa plopped next to Sally on the chesterfield as Ryan sauntered in, completely cool and unfazed that he was five minutes late. He took one of the wooden chairs that bordered the couch, sliding effortlessly in and offering a killer smile.
Oh the hearts he would break, Harlow thought, and the pining hearts he was creating. Sally, the ever put-together professional, had to force herself to concentrate just a bit more when Ryan walked in.
Harlow watched the three sit expectantly, and loved everything about them. All so different, but all of them beautiful, passionate, and driven.
She’d heard friends and colleagues from other companies tell her that millennials were lazy and ruining their corporate drive. Harlow had seen first-hand that was far from true. She’d never seen individuals have so much fun and try so hard to produce results in her lifetime. They embraced the old, and she loved that they understood and drove them toward the new.
“Okay,” Harlow began, “let’s get started. It sounds like Jacquelyn is on track. Is there anything she needs from me that wasn’t in her recap email this morning? Does she need any assistance in set-up or opening?”
“She is on top of it.” Sally took the lead. “All decorations are in place. Props – like the wooden toboggan sleds and the hay bales for on-ice seating – arrived yesterday. Those should be in place by,” Sally looked at her watch, more out of habit than a need to see it was ten after nine, “now.”
Sally drew her chestnut hair over one shoulder, not realizing her nervous habit, and went on. “The food vendors are scheduled to arrive at five tomorrow morning. They are expecting a crowd. At least double what they had last year since it was such a hit. And it’s the Saturday before Thanksgiving so it’s anticipated that a lot of people won’t be working next week. Jacq calculated for that, too.”
“Perfect. Please let me know if you hear of anything from her. I know she’ll reach out to one of you before me, but I’m available.” Harlow nodded, took a sip of her coffee, and made a note that everything was on track. “Okay, Vanessa, how are you doing at the hotel?”
“Good. We are back on track after the delivery mix-up last week.”
Harlow appreciated Vanessa’s word choice. ‘Mix-up,’ to Harlow’s mind, was putting it extremely nicely. The florist sent less than half of the greenery, garland, and poinsettia order. And what they did send went to the wrong hotel – in the wrong state. Apparently, Minnesota and Michigan were easily interchangeable.
Vanessa had simply gotten on the phone, redirected the shipment, got a refund for the undelivered items, covered the charge for the delivery, worked with a local flower and garden shop, and had the rest of the delivery the following Monday.
“I’ve confirmed with Sasha – the hotel’s event planner – the room will be set up by tomorrow morning. We’re talking over-the-top blues and silvers – on and in everything. Bulbs, flowers, tassels, vases, and even the food. The caterer is prepared and we’ve confirmed the headcount. Entertainment was set up last night and they’ll arrive by three tomorrow. That’s four hours before the seven o’clock start time. And their equipment – silver.”
Vanessa looked around and saw her comment received smiles from the room. They knew it was ridiculous too, but it was just the right amount of obnoxious.
“Hors d’oeuvres will be served to the five hundred guests upon arrival – cute, dainty finger-foods. There will be holiday cocktails, beer, and wine available for beverages straight through the night. A plated dinner will be served at eight with light holiday music continuing to play in the background. At nine the dessert bar will be set up. The Bistro will provide the treats and do set up and break down. I’ve seen the spread – they look delectable. And if any of you make it, they are making extra dinner plates for emergencies, it’s roasted rack of lamb with blueberry glaze.” Vanessa moaned as she pretended to faint falling to the tufted back-rest. “There are no words.”
“Music will pick up at that point, offering a more festive beat.” Vanessa sat up and went on. “It will hopefully encourage dancing and for those in attendance to open their wallets. There is a raffle for prizes large and small. All proceeds going to Heritage House. It’s an orphanage in downtown St. Paul.”
Heartfelt ahh’s made their way out of Sally and Ryan at the generous gesture.
Vanessa agreed and went on to tell the group it was the first party thrown by two accounting firms that joined forces in October. There were good feelings all around and she couldn’t wait to celebrate with them – they’d invited her as a guest to her own party.
Ryan then lived his own bit of excitement as he recounted the details of his event taking place at the NHL hockey arena in St. Paul. It was all-man, or all-fan, appropriate.
Miniature hockey gear ornaments took over the trees that would be lit up all around the rink and near the concessions areas on every floor. Over four-hundred of them. Minnesota’s team had donated signed jerseys, posters, sticks, and pucks to the event.
“Everything is good. The only thing I might need help with is the final walk-through for the charity executives. They are hoping for a picture at the opening of everybody who came together to make the event happen. Harlow, are you available for that?”
“Friday, December 13th?” Harlow asked, mostly for Ryan’s sake, to let him dictate, but she knew their schedules inside and out.
“Nailed it. Could you be there around six?”
“Perfect.”
Ryan smiled proudly, and Sally and Vanessa nodded at themselves for an update well done. Their pride lasted until Lisa, the busiest one of them all, ran into the room.
“Did I miss it? I missed it. Shit.” Lisa asked and answered her own question, then plopped herself on the chair across from Ryan, and sank in exhaustion.
Harlow, and the rest, attempted to hide their amusement as they watched the new mom chug coffee like she would water after running a marathon through the snow. And by the look of her boots that hadn’t yet been changed into heels, she might have done just that.
“I’ll give you the update. Everybody is executing perfectly.” Harlow sent appreciative and proud looks toward the group then continued, “We are on track and it seems it’s going to be a very Merry Christmas.”
“Thank God. What is Christmas again?” Lisa joked as she looked up, pretending to be confused, then added, “I’ll meet up with each of you in our one-on-ones to make sure there isn’t anything else you need from me, or last-minute details you’d like my help with.”
“Sounds great, Lis.” Ryan said, the first to get up and walk out with a wave, then he answered a phone call from one of his clients he greeted by name.
“Lisa, you’re stunning. Even in your frazzled, no-sleep, new baby world. It’s making you sparkle like a fresh, fluffy snow,” Sally said as she followed Ryan out and tapped Vanessa on the shoulder, a sign that told her she should follow suit.
Vanessa stood, reached over to squeeze Lisa’s hand, winked, and followed Sally. The women walked out organizing a trip to a coffee shop for their next meeting. And they’d need it seeing as they’d be putting in a long couple of weeks, and many days with hours that would reach well into double digits.
Harlow looked at Lisa and smiled sympathetically but with as much joy she knew Lisa’s new baby brought into the world.
“How is sweet baby Layla?” Harlow asked.
“She’s great. The most precious, unsleeping human on the planet.”
“What if you just took a couple more weeks off. I promise we will be fine here.” Harlow didn’t have the heart to tell Lisa that when she was gone things trudged forward, but barely.
It was hard losing the one person who knew everybody’s schedule; scheduled all the meetings, job interviews, client interviews; had relationships with the event planners from the hotels, local, and national caterers; knew where to get the best deals, and understood the ins and outs of tailoring your mood and correspondence to appeal to the right people for the right occasions.
“Not a chance. I need a break. Even if it is so I can sleep at my desk. But if it gets to that point, I promise I’ll book one of the mother rooms. Might as well hook myself up to the pump if I’m going to be still for more than ten minutes,” Lisa said, pointing to her boobs like they were feeding objects rather than an appreciated and appealing part of her body.
“Okay, but if it gets to be too much, you tell me. Before we get too into work, what can I bring for Thanksgiving?” Harlow asked, excited about the holiday that was now only six days away.
“Yourself and your favorite bottle of wine. Nothing more, nothing less. You know how Mom and Steve get. They rule the kitchen and no outsider must enter.”
Lisa and Harlow both understood the term ‘outsider’ was affectionately used for any person who wasn’t her mom or her doting husband, which included family.
“Understood.” Harlow saluted.
“Did you call them?” Lisa asked, changing the subject, knowing Harlow’s family had been on her mind.
Harlow thought of them constantly, but more so around the holidays. Lisa knew the Hills came from money. She’d known since she and Harlow were childhood friends going to the same elementary and high schools. But as people do, they had drifted apart during college and the first couple of years back in St. Paul. It wasn’t until Lisa had applied for the Executive Event Coordinator job that they had reconnected. They’d hit it off again immediately and filled a void in each other’s lives they hadn’t realized was missing.
When they rekindled their old friendship, Harlow had confided in Lisa that the money was still there, but the once-close family had begun to jet-set around the world and hopping around to live in different states. Vincent, Harlow’s brother, had moved his wife, Catherine, to New York to open a branch of their marketing and advertising company there. And Harriett, her sister, had done the same but had taken her skills to Nashville. Her parents, Walter and Vivienne, had since retired and liked to spend the holidays in France, Italy, or any other picturesque European country.
This year, Harlow had waffled and wavered on reaching out to them to see if they’d all come home for Christmas to spend it together like they used to.
“I haven’t.” Harlow’s head dropped, showing disappointment in herself and readied for a stern talking-to from Lisa.
Lisa got up and sat on the coffee table so she could sit and reach across Harlow’s desk to take her hand.
“I promise it won’t be hard. Just a quick call. Or even a text. Just send a quick feeler out there to get everybody’s schedules?”
“It’s not the schedules I’m worried about. And calling or texting isn’t the hard part. It’s the answer that I might get in response. I’m afraid to hear they won’t be able to make it. Or, that they offer I go to them – which would be really nice – but it’s not home.” Harlow shook her head.
“I know. I understand,” Lisa said, letting out a sigh for her friend. She understood, because even though her parents and extended family were always around and she had them for all holidays and special occasions, she couldn’t imagine how sad she would be if one day she didn’t have that. “But promise me you’ll keep thinking about it. Your family is wonderful. I bet they just don’t realize how much you all would love it. How much you all need it.”
“I promise. Lis, you are amazing. And you do actually ‘sparkle like freshly fallen snow.’”
The women laughed at Sally’s description from the meeting, but only out of appreciation. And, if Harlow wasn’t mistaken in her friend’s glow, it was the truth.
