NAT FROZE as the screeching sounds of the punk band's version of "Twelve Days of Christmas" faded into the background.
Cyrus Blackstone? Here in Holiday Lake being serenaded by the town's answer to the Sex Pistols and looking twice as handsome as he did in his pictures?
But, of course he was in Holiday Lake. He was picking up Chinese food with Leah, along, it seemed, with most of the town.
And Marisol, Jecca and Zoe were right behind him, spying on Leah, and gossiping their little hearts out, no doubt. She sighed. How embarrassing.
"Mr. Blackstone," Nat said loud enough to alert the women behind him. "How are you?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zoe's eyes widen. Zoe elbowed Jecca in the ribs and pointed at Cyrus.
"I'm very well," Cyrus answered with a smile. "What a happy coincidence meeting you here."
His tone indicated that he did not think it was a coincidence at all.
Nat swallowed hard. "Yes, yes it is."
Oh, why was she so bad at pretending? Her palms felt sweaty and she was sure her face was flushed.
His dark hair was perfectly combed and although there was a bit of stubble on his chin, he still looked every inch the distinguished executive. He certainly did not look like a single parent who had just left the hideous hellscape that was Mall of America on the day before Christmas.
The hellscape she had sent him into.
"So glad to see you made it to Holiday Lake," Nat said, still too loudly. "How are the kids?"
Zoe and Jecca tapped Marisol on the shoulder and led her away.
Cyrus looked over his shoulder and smiled.
"The kids are having a blast," he said, pointing at the crowd. "They're rocking away with the carolers."
Zoe scanned the crowd, identifying a little boy banging away at imaginary drums and a girl singing the chorus with enthusiasm.
Gigi had her father's looks, with dark hair and strong features hinting at an iron will. Jack, blond with freckles, didn't look like Cyrus, but judging by the way the kid was banging on his imaginary drums, he seemed to have the same laser focus.
Banging...Oh, good heavens, she'd forgotten that tonight was Santa's Calling's debut performance. The band was a new addition to the Holiday Lake entertainment line-up, and it was decidedly untraditional.
The locals understood, of course, and the recurring tourists would be in on the joke. They would appreciate the change from the town's usual Old King Wenceslas and Holly and Ivy repertoire.
But a new visitor looking for a traditional family Christmas would not necessarily appreciate a holiday version of Pink Floyd's Another Brick in The Wall.
"They look like they like the song," she said, as the children screamed in joy. "It's very, er, festive."
Cyrus laughed. "That it is. You have to appreciate how they adapted the lyrics to match the theme. We don't need no decorations is very ironic under the circumstances."
At least he seemed to be taking it in stride. A lesser man would have been going out of his mind at this point, but Cyrus seemed to be made of sterner stuff. And he clearly loved his kids.
Nat smiled. "Since you did, in fact, need decorations?"
"Since I went to great lengths to obtain them, yes." He glanced back at the spot where Nat's friends were standing. "I understand I've been working you to the bone."
Nat held back a grimace. Oh, mercy, what had Cyrus overheard? Knowing Zoe and Jecca, probably something inappropriate.
When the girls got to gossiping, there was no stopping them. Add Marisol Quinn to the mix and you got a veritable gossip hurricane.
Yet Cyrus seemed to find it humorous, not offensive.
"The kids got the Fire Department shirts?" Nat exclaimed, trying to change the topic. "That's fantastic."
"Yes," Cyrus agreed, still smiling. "Jack is over the moon. Drums and firetrucks are his favorite things."
He finished that sentence with a few bars of the famous Sound of Music song. Nat noted with some relief that Cyrus was not perfect. He couldn't sing.
"Then he'll love the Christmas tree," she said. "It has plenty of both."
"I'm sure it does." Cyrus replied. "I hear you've been hard at work at our little last-minute project."
Nat winced. "Ah, yes." She glanced in the direction where her friends had been. "I imagine you may have heard quite a lot. That fire-engine comment I made was actually an attempt to change the subject."
Cyrus chuckled. "Well, points for trying."
"Apparently," she replied, laughing.
"Well, again from what I overheard, I should apologize for making you work the day before Christmas."
Nat stopped laughing and struggled to contain a scowl. Why would Cyrus apologize to her? She'd taken the job willingly and was being generously compensated. Oh, she was going to have a stern talk with her mother.
"But I'm not going to apologize," Cyrus said. "It would be insincere. If you hadn't agreed to this job, I wouldn't be in Holiday Lake greeting a firefighter Santa Claus and listening to punk-rock carols with my kids."
She couldn't help but laugh. Of course, he wasn't apologizing. He wasn't the type.
She grinned. "Just to clarify, these are good things, right?"
Cyrus glanced at his son, who was now doing the Pink Floyd drum solo. A crowd had gathered around him and was cheering him on. The lead singer looked like she was trying hard not to laugh.
"Yes," Cyrus said. "Wonderful things."
That was a relief, and not just because he was a client and unhappy clients were bad for business. She really wanted to give Cyrus and his children a perfect Merry Christmas.
And that was all she wanted, right? She treated all her clients this way, right?
"That's good to hear," she answered. "And there are no hard feelings as to the assignment—"
"I should hope not," Cyrus answered. "After all, you paid me back for the imposition, didn't you?"
"Ah, I was concerned you wouldn't notice. How was the mall?"
Cyrus laughed. "Loud and sugary."
"It usually is," Nat replied. "But you got the presents?"
Cyrus nodded. "Lots of presents, mountains of presents, avalanches of presents. I hope you found a big tree. I'm going to need the space."
Nat's lips curved into a smile. She didn't think he would be disappointed about that.
A cold breeze made her shiver, reminding her that she was outside in the cold and the conversation had dragged on. She stuck her hands in her coat pocket, trying to think of a way to extend the chat even further.
"I love the Mall of America wrapping paper," she said. "They do a different theme every year."
The words sounded silly, even to her own ears. Why was she babbling on about wrapping paper? Was she that desperate to retain Cyrus's attention? As conversational gambits went, this was unimpressive.
But it was surprisingly effective. Cyrus's face fell in response.
Nat tensed. Oh, surely he hadn't forgotten—
"You did get the presents wrapped, right?" she asked, eyes wide.
Cyrus grimaced. "Well, if you mean wrapping beyond the packaging..."
"Daddy!"
Gigi and Jack were running towards them.
"Look," Jack exclaimed waving a post card. "I got a free song."
"A what?" Cyrus asked.
"Santa's Calling gives their listeners a free song download," Nat explained.
Cyrus made a face. "Please tell me it's not a punk-rock Christmas carol. I don't think I can take any more loud music."
"It's the band's name." Jack said. "Santa's Calling."
"Oh, that's not loud," Cyrus said sarcastically while smiling at his son. "Not loud at all."
"You can wear earplugs." Jack said. "Leah wears them when I play."
Gigi looked around. "Where is Leah anyway?"
"She was getting the food." Cyrus said. "But she met someone."
Gigi's eyes sparkled. "The mystery boyfriend?"
Nat laughed. The Blackstone super-sleuth had figured it out.
Gigi turned, as if noticing Nat for the first time.
Cyrus stepped in. "This is Nat Quinn—"
"The Christmas Queen," Jack exclaimed.
Gigi's eyes went wide. "Did you get—" She glanced at her father.
Nat smiled and gave her a big wink. "I took care of everything."
Gigi looked relieved.
Her father, however, looked thoroughly confused.
"I have the feeling I'm missing something," he said.
Gigi and Nat laughed.
"I'm missing the food," Jack said. "Where is it?"
"Somewhere over there," Cyrus said. "Let's look for Leah."
"Don't forget the mystery boyfriend," Gigi said.
"How could I?" Cyrus said. "Well, see you in a bit, Ms. Quinn."
"Have fun," Nat replied, watching them walk off with a relieved sigh.
Not that they weren't an adorable family, on their way to pick up Chinese food with Jack still banging away at his invisible drums. They were cute, particularly Gigi who was so concerned about their secret project.
"That was him?" a voice hissed behind her.
Nat turned to glare at Jecca and Zoe, who were staring at the Blackstones.
"Yes," Nat replied, "and he heard everything you were talking about."
"He's better looking in person," Zoe said. "And the kids are adorable. I was watching them rock out and they were precious."
"And loud," Jecca said. "They were very loud."
"Loud is the point, Jecca," Zoe said.
"Spoken like a true heavy-metal groupie," Jecca noted.
"I'm a proud headbanger, girl," Zoe replied. "And someday I will find my dream Christmas-themed Metallica tribute band and I'll hire them to play the plaza. You'll see. The dream lives on."
"Speaking of dreams," Jecca replied, "your client is extremely dishy, Nat. Anything going on there?"
"Just significant embarrassment," Nat said. "Since he overheard my mom complaining about my last-minute work assignment."
"Ah, that," Zoe sighed. "She thinks you're working too hard."
Nat frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Maybe she should be a bit more discreet about her concerns."
"She's projecting," Jecca said.
"Projecting what?" Nat asked.
"Her own breakup with Joel," Zoe replied. "Something about working too hard and not being around for Christmas."
"He runs a Christmas tree farm," Nat exclaimed. "Of course he's busy around the holidays."
"Come to think of it," Jecca said. "Where is he? I usually see him every morning getting coffee."
"And he's usually a regular at my early-bird dinner," Zoe said. "I thought maybe he was having dinner at home with his son. The Schmidts practically established the town's traditional Christmas Eve Chinese dinner."
Nat frowned. "Isn't Joel vegan or something?"
"Pescetarian," Zoe said. "Trust me. He's on my restaurant watch list."
"Oh," Jecca breathed. "You have one of those too?"
Oh, boy. Time to get this conversation back on track before it degenerated into a discussion of restaurant-manager minutia.
"So Joel is busy with something," she said. "And that somehow led to my mom breaking up with him?"
"With something," Zoe said. "Or with someone."
Jecca nodded. "Noah has been picking up food at my deli section. Hummus sandwich with chips. One."
Nat frowned. "But that doesn't mean Joel is seeing someone else. Maybe he just doesn't like your sandwiches."
Jecca gave her a pitying look. "Everyone likes my sandwiches."
"There's someone else," Zoe said. "Someone he met through work."
Nat shook her head. "I feel like we're bungee jumping into conclusions here."
"Only one way to know for sure," Jecca said.
"You have to talk to your mom," Zoe concluded.
Nat nodded glumly. That wasn't a conversation she wanted to have.