NAT WAITED on the porch, shifting from foot to foot impatiently as she tried to figure out exactly what she was doing here. She'd never had a client with a present-wrapping emergency before. She didn't even know how that was possible.
But she'd still asked Jecca to take Marisol home, then she'd headed out of the Inn at lighting speed and picked up some wrapping paper and tape on the way. She'd also stopped to get Gigi's secret project, and had been relieved to find that Print Shop Holly had done a terrific job. Nat had then broken speed records getting to the Grand Lodge.
This, she had to admit, was above and beyond her usual client service.
And her friends had no compunction about saying so. Zoe and Jecca had had plenty to say about Nat's sudden spurt of enhanced work ethic. But they were wrong, as Nat wasn't doing this because she had a crush on the handsome millionaire. That was ridiculous.
Marisol had certainly thought so. She'd smiled broadly as she'd given Nat an earful about working too hard.
At least this little detour took care of the "drop-off" that was part of Gigi's secret project. Hopefully, Cyrus wouldn't ask what was in the plain brown bag that Nat was carrying.
Then the door opened and Cyrus came out. His curly black hair was still damp from the snowfall, and he looked a little wild-eyed.
He also looked completely delicious.
Okay, maybe there was a little crush.
"Hi," she mumbled, trying to sound like a seasoned professional decorator. "I have the wrapping paper in the—"
"Thank heavens you're here," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside.
"Oh," she exclaimed, as she tripped over the entry and almost fell headfirst into the foyer.
She straightened and steadied herself, trying to catch her breath. "Nice to see you too."
She was breathless, and it wasn't entirely due to her clumsiness. Cyrus Blackstone always had this effect on her.
Oh, heavens, was she still staring at him? She quickly looked away, her gaze traveling around the room. The Blackstones had made themselves at home and the foyer was lined with snow-covered boots and neatly-hung coats. Nat automatically checked the tree and garlands to make sure every one was lit up properly.
They all looked lovely, even though the lights were no longer dimmed. Someone had moved the firetruck ornaments. She suspected that was Jack. Hopefully he'd liked them.
"Everything looks under control," she said, relieved. "Do you want me to leave the wrapping paper—"
That's when she realized she was still holding his hand. She immediately let go.
"Actually," Cyrus said, leading her towards the family room. "I need a little more help than that. For one, I don't know how to wrap presents, and, for another, I have this."
She entered the living room. Gigi and Jack lay on the sofa, watching television. They waved at her, smiling.
"Hi, Christmas lady," Gigi called, her eyes immediately dropping to the bag. "The house looks amazing. I love the gnomes."
"Hello, guys," Nat said as she surreptitiously dropped the bag on the floor behind her. Gigi gave a slight nod in acknowledgement.
"Are you having fun?" Nat asked, relieved that little mission had been successfully completed.
"Hi," Jack said before stuffing his mouth with what appeared to be the Candy Cave's Choco-Nutty Caroler's Candy Assortment. "I loved the firetrucks and the gnomes too, but they aren't elves you know."
Nat smiled. "I know."
"They are a different species," Jack explained.
"I keep trying to explain that to my mom," Nat muttered.
"Nat is here to help out," Cyrus explained, pulling her into the kitchen.
"Help with what?" Gigi asked, her eyes still on the bag.
Okay, maybe this kid could use a little practice before starting spy school. She was being a tad obvious.
"With stuff," Cyrus replied pulling Nat away.
"What's going on?" Nat whispered once they were out of earshot. "Is there something wrong with the way the house is set up? I can have someone come in and—"
He frowned. "No, nothing like that. You did a fantastic job. The tree looks amazing and the wreaths appear, er, highly symbolic and significant and all that."
Nat laughed as her professional anxieties melted away. "That what I was aiming for."
"And the gnomes were a big hit."
"Or course they were," Nat said with a laugh. "I can't believe my mom was right about that." She tilted her head to the side. "But if the tree is not falling and the ornaments did not trigger sudden-onset gnomephobia, then why did you need my help?"
Cyrus gestured towards the family room. "Didn't you see?"
"I saw two tired kids watching a Christmas movie on television and having a good time."
Cyrus nodded. "Exactly."
Nat glanced back at the living room, where the kids were happily munching away. Gigi kept watch over her package and Jack yawned and settled back on the cushions. "Am I missing something?"
Cyrus gestured towards the family room. "They're eating candy. They aren't supposed to eat candy."
Nat raised a brow, smiled, and responded with good-natured sarcasm. "Oh, no. What are we going to do? And who's the criminal who bought them candy? Sweets don't walk out of Santa's Candy Cave by themselves."
Cyrus avoided her glance. "Well, I mean, they really wanted it, and the store looked so inviting. They had a fudge demonstration."
Ah, yes, the Candy Cave's irresistible fudge demonstration. Many a tourist had been waylaid by that sweet temptation.
"A little candy isn't a big deal," she said. "Did they eat dinner already?"
He glanced at the paper bags on the counter. "No, not yet. Do you mind if we eat before wrapping? I can bribe you with egg rolls."
"I'm game even without the bribe," Nat replied, keenly aware that she'd left Zoe's party without eating. "Should we set up the food?"
Cyrus glanced at his mesmerized kids and scratched his head. "I don't know. Maybe we should we wait until the movie is done."
Nat smiled. The confident executive who had commandeered her services on Christmas Eve without a second thought was unsure around his children. It was kind of endearing.
"Then let's start serving," she said. "And they can pause the movie, if they want. They should be going to bed after dinner, no?"
She reached up and opened one of the cabinets, looking for serving dishes.
Cyrus nodded. "I hope so. Otherwise, we'll never get the gifts wrapped."
"You hope?" Nat asked, looking up. "Can't you just tell them to go to bed?"
Cyrus grimaced. "Leah is usually in charge of that. I know I should rely less on her, but—" He sighed. "It's not easy. I work long hours and that gets in the way. This trip was supposed to be a bonding experience, but I don't know if that's going to work."
Nat turned back towards the cabinet, hiding a smile.
Holiday Lake would have something to say about that. Her hometown's Christmas obsession sometimes drove her nuts, but even she had to admit that it was excellent for family bonding.
And a family present-wrapping session sounded like the perfect way to start.
Cyrus had said that the kids had bought their presents, so the Christmas surprise aspect was already ruined. One way to still make it special was to give the kids a wrapping party. Sure, the presents would look terrible, but that didn't matter. It would be a fun for the kids.
And it would be a memory. Memories were better than presents.
"I understand," Nat said, taking out two round dishes and a plate for the egg rolls. "I just had an argument with my mother—oh, never mind. You don't want to hear about that."
Why was she even mentioning Marisol? Oh, talking to this man was way too easy.
"The one who thinks you work too hard?" Cyrus asked.
Nat straightened and placed the plates on the counter. "Well, yes. I'm also too uptight and I schedule everything."
"Nothing wrong with working hard," Cyrus said, looking around. "Or being organized. I don't suppose your uptight, organized mind knows where the silverware is?"
"Probably next to the sink." Nat walked over, opened a drawer, and took out some cutlery. "And my mom can't criticize my work ethic. She works harder than I do. At least, she used to."
Cyrus brought over some napkins. "Is she also a decorator?"
"No, she has an antiques store called Odds and Elves. She specializes in Christmas-themed antiques."
Cyrus' lips curved into a smile. "I could have guessed that."
"Don't laugh," Nat countered, chuckling in spite of herself. "She's very respected in the industry. Two years ago, she found a rare grape-shaped kugel worth five thousand dollars. It was on cable news."
Cyrus laughed. "What's a kugel and why would one be worth thousands of dollars?"
Nat opened the first container. The intoxicating smell of orange chicken wafted through the kitchen and her stomach practically growled. "It's a ball-shaped ornament made of thick glass. They were made in Germany in the eighteen hundreds."
"And they're worth that much?"
"Don't sound so skeptical. You're a businessman and you know how these things work."
Cyrus grabbed a fork, stabbed a piece of chicken, and stuffed it in his mouth. Guess she wasn't the only one who was hungry.
"These are Christmas ornaments we are talking about, not tulip bulbs," Cyrus replied, grabbing another piece of chicken.
At this rate, they would be out of food by the time she finished serving.
She took the dish and placed it out of arms' reach. "They are extremely rare. You can go for years without seeing a good kugel come up for sale."
"And your mother hunts down these elusive unicorn ornaments?"
She swatted his hand as he reached for another piece of chicken.
"She loves it," she said, grabbing another container. "She travels all over the country looking for them. Last year she did a road trip through Germany with Noah's dad. They drove around for days searching the antique markets and looking at trees."
"Trees?"
"Noah's dad owns Northstar Tree Farms. He's really into tree species."
Cyrus frowned. "Noah as in Leah's Noah? He owns a Christmas tree farm?"
Nat's eyes narrowed. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing," he answered, taking a step back. "It's just—"
"It's one of the most successful Christmas tree farms in the country. Joel's trees have been placed in Rockefeller Center two times, or maybe it's been three." She grabbed a dish. "The point is it has been so many times, I've lost count."
Cyrus started laughing.
"I do not think this is a laughing matter," Nat said, as she spooned lo mein into the dish.
"Oh, I know you don't," Cyrus said, grabbing a porcelain train. "I soon figured out that Christmas is serious business around here."
She saw him reach for a Styrofoam container. "I guess I can't deny that. But you take your business seriously too, don't you?"
"Sure do," he said.
"And, having a real estate business in Manhattan is a bit like having a Christmas business in Holiday Lake. It's the local specialty."
"I never thought about it that way."
He opened the container, revealing a tempting pile of golden egg rolls. He offered them to her with a grin.
"We should wait," she said.
He grinned. "Let's not." He grabbed one of the crispy cylinders and waved it enticingly. "Carpe egg roll, as they say."
She accepted the egg roll with a smile. It was warm, spicy, and delicious.
An awkward silence descended. It felt oddly intimate to be sharing food with Cyrus. Sure, she'd done taste-testings with clients before, but this felt different, and it wasn't just because it was egg rolls and not Christmas cookies.
Cyrus seemed nervous too. He finished his food and wiped his fingers with an unsteady motion.
"So, Christmas Queen? That's an interesting marketing gimmick."
Nat swallowed quickly. "Oh, it's just my name. We have a lot of Christmas names in this town. I had three Chrises and two Noelles in my graduating class, and I just saw a Holly at the Inn and another one at the print shop—"
She paused mid-sentence with a silent curse. She'd just dropped a huge clue about Gigi's secret project. Maybe Cyrus hadn't noticed?
"But Quinn isn't a Christmas name," he said, seemingly oblivious to her slip of the tongue.
"But Natividad definitely is," she explained. "It's another word for Christmas in Spanish. My mom thought it was perfect."
Cyrus stared off into the distance. "You your name is..."
"Natividad Quinn," she sighed. "Literally 'Christmas Queen.' Needless to say, I've used Nat my entire life, starting in preschool. Even in a town with a lot of holiday-themed names, 'Christmas Queen' is a bit much."
She certainly hadn't used it in Minneapolis where a Christmas-themed name would have been a bit too much.
His lips curved into a smile. "But when you started your business, you decided to own it."
"Yes," she conceded. "I'd been teased about it all my life. I figured it was time."
She remembered it clearly. She'd come back from Mexico after breaking up with Ethan, sat at her computer surrounded by packed boxes and register her Christmas Queen website with shaking hands. She had reclaimed who she was and it had felt like a huge step.
"I understand," Cyrus said. "I had my share of Achy-Breaky Heart jokes growing up. Good for you."
"Thank you," Nat said, oddly touched by his approval.
No one had ever understood why she'd chosen her hated childhood nickname for her business name. Marisol had felt that something like "Holiday Dreams" or "Yule Love It" would have been better.
But Nat had stuck by Christmas Queen. It fit. It was hers.
And now Cyrus Blackstone was practically beaming with approval about it.
And it felt rather good. Good enough that she couldn't stop smiling, which was kind of embarrassing.
"We should start heating some of this up," she said, covering the lo mein dish with a paper towel and heading for the microwave.
"So did you ever consider doing anything not Christmas related?" Cyrus asked.
"Every single day of my life." She put the dish into the appliance and programmed it. "It may be hard to believe, but I actually worked as a commercial decorator in Minneapolis for a couple of years. Modern hotels and offices with lots of glass and quartz surfacing."
And she'd been pretty good at it too.
"That is hard to believe," Cyrus replied. "Somehow, I can't picture you doing corporate greige."
"Picture it," Nat replied. "I rocked the corporate color palette."
"What made you change course?"
"Zoe took over the inn and asked me to give it a little update. It was an extremely small update, but it was enough to put me on the map. People started calling me and asking for advice."
Commercial design, it turned out, was not so different from Christmas decorating. Just substitute Santa Claus for the hotel chain's brand and voilà.
"So you moved back to town?"
The microwave beeped. "Yep, I did a movie for Noah and the rest is history."
"And now you dream of sunny vacations and margaritas?"
Nat stared at the blinking light of the microwave, suddenly feeling a deep longing for a frozen drink with a little umbrella and a maraschino cherry.
"Like I said." She grabbed some pot holders and used them to move the hot dish to the counter. "Every single day of my life. How about you? Did you ever consider doing anything besides real estate?"
She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. Why was she reminding him of his work? The whole point of his trip was to get out of the corporate mindset.
She never did this with her clients, especially the type-A ones. As soon as you mentioned work, they reverted to their bossy office selves and it was hard to pull them back.
It could ruin a vacation. She knew that.
So why had she done it?
He frowned, as if surprised by the question. "Not really. It was a family business and I was good at it..."
His voice trailed off, then he laughed. "I guess we have that in common."
Indeed, and that was why she'd brought up work. It was one thing they had in common, work and the resulting conflict.
It was disturbingly easy to talk to Cyrus.
"It feels nice to do something you're good at," Nat said, placing the hot dish on the counter. "There's nothing wrong with that."
"True," Cyrus said. "I wish people would understand—" He ran his fingers through his hair as he glanced back at the kids in the living room.
"Family has a hard time understanding sometimes," Nat said, feeling the tension emanating from him.
He sighed. "Especially children. I'm genuinely surprised this is working out."
Nat gave a theatrical gasp. "I am offended by that statement. Of course it was going to work out. You hired—"
"The Queen of Christmas," he said with a smile. "I know."
Nat winked. "I always get my man."
She immediately regretted the boast. It sounded odd, almost like a double entendre, and Cyrus's eyes went wide with surprise. He had definitely doubled the entendre, so to speak. But she hadn't meant it that way.
Or had she?
She held her breath, waiting for his response.
He leaned forward, a smile crossing his face. "If that is—"
"Daddy," Jack shouted. "I'm hungry."
"Where's the food?" Gigi added.
Nat tensed, fists clenched, as she tried to hide her disappointment.
Cyrus stepped back with a sigh. "We're almost done."
"You have been at it forever," Gigi said, entering the kitchen. "What are you talking about?"
Cyrus and Nat exchanged a glance
"Egg rolls," they said in unison.