He didn’t have magical memories of the Snow Ball like Cami did. It wasn’t some sort of fairytale event he looked forward to. But tonight, the Snow Ball was going to be different. He looked inside the inner pocket on his tuxedo. The ring was still there.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be nervous. He had fought in war. Won an election. He was in charge of this town. He faced down crisis and disasters, but nothing made him want to run like the idea of asking Cami to marry him. Again.

He wanted her to have the ring when she woke up on Christmas morning, but he knew he might not make it that long. It had been on the tip of his tongue so many times. It was ready to fly out of his mouth. He wanted her to marry him. He always had.

It was one of those dreams he had never let go of, even though he had convinced himself he had. He just needed her back in his life to realize it.

“Mayor, looking good. Looking sharp in that tux.” One of the sound technicians walked past him as he strolled into the shop.

He stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t believe it. The place had been transformed into a Christmas palace. He stared at the ceiling. There was an enormous chandelier hanging from the center, where the historic one used to swing.

“Surprised?”

He turned when he heard Cami’s voice.

“How? Where did you find it?”

“Actually, I went to your grandmother’s to get that recipe. And it turns out, if you ask her anything from about fifty years ago, she’s sharp as a tack.”

He laughed. “Grandmother knew where to find the chandelier?”

She nodded. “And she has so much information about the history of this town. Someone should write a book about her.”

“Or a song.” He winked.

“Or a song.” Cami smiled.

“I can’t believe what you’ve done in here.”

“It wasn’t me. It was the decorating committee, and my little elves.”

“Well, your little elves are talented. This is going to be a Snow Ball, no one will ever forget.”

“I need to run upstairs and put on my dress. Can you watch everything for me while I’m there?”

“Of course, baby. Anything you need.”

“Twenty minutes. Ok thirty minutes topped.”

He chuckled. “You’re going to dress for a ball in thirty minutes?”

“I’m going to try.” She reached up on her toes and kissed him gently. “I can’t wait for the night to begin.”

Fuck. Yeah, he wasn’t going to make it to Christmas morning. That ring would be on her finger before midnight.

“I’ve got everything down here. Go get ready.”

Cami ran to the opposite end of the room and disappeared through the French doors and took the back entrance to her apartment.

Evan surveyed the activity going on. The stage was set on the far end of the room. They didn’t need to add a dancefloor. There were Christmas trees and lights everywhere. This was one time he hoped the Post did show up and take a million pictures. This was the kind of publicity the town could use.

“Hey, excuse me.” Someone tapped Evan on the shoulder. He turned around to face a guy with graying hair that needed to be cut. It was shaggy on the top and around his ears.

“Yes?”

“I’m looking for Cami Addison. I can’t seem to find her and she’s not answering her cell.”

“Are you dropping something off? I can help.” He didn’t have a fucking clue where anything went, but he’d figure it out.

“Yeah. A contract.”

Evan scratched the back of his head. Cami wasn’t authorized to sign contracts on behalf of the town. “What’s it for?” he asked.

The guy sighed. “It’s between Cami and me. Do you know where I can find her?”

Evan didn’t like the way this was going. “What is it you need? Cami’s not available right now?”

“Hey, man. I didn’t fly all the way from Nashville and then rent a car to drive out to the middle of nowhere to talk to one of her minions.”

“Did you say Nashville?”

“Yeah. I’m Cami’s manager.”

He thought he saw red and black splotches flashing around the guy’s face. “Cami doesn’t have a manager anymore,” he stated. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength to keep from slugging the guy.

“I’m Peter Handle. I’ve been Cami’s manager for almost ten years. I need to talk to her about this contract. It has an expiration date on it, or else I wouldn’t be here. It’s Christmas Eve. You’ve got to realize this is a pretty big deal. Don’t you?”

It was as if he had cut a hole beneath Evan’s ribs and let the air out in painful breaths. It seeped out, searing him. Why the fuck was this happening again? Cami had a manager? And a contract? Was she going to tell him she was headed back to Nashville?

No. Fucking no. He wasn’t going through this again. She’d broken his heart before. And he wasn’t doing this. If she wanted to leave, then why should he stop her? Why should he have to convince her that there was no other place like Harpers Point?

He strolled out of the ballroom and out the door. Peter shouted at him to stop, but he kept going. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t pause. He kept walking. He wouldn’t be the one to be left behind this time.