Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
I hate Christmas—always have, always will. From the gaudy trees to the over-the-top decorations and the traditions everyone clings to like they’re sacred.
Particularly my family.
They own Mistletoe Town—a Hallmark movie come to life and a place most people only dream about. Thanks to an unexpected inheritance from my great-grandfather, it’s my personal nightmare.
I’m stuck running this Christmas-obsessed town with an avalanche of memories I’ve spent thirteen years trying to forget.
But it’s not just the town I abandoned… it’s her.
And no matter how much I play the Scrooge, I’m about to find out some ghosts from the past can’t be ignored—or outrun.
Especially now that she’s my sweet new employee, baking spirits merry and bright.
If I want to stay off the naughty list, I have to learn how to play nice.
And let go of the past.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
NICHOLAS
“What the hell do you mean by I’ve inherited Mistletoe Town?” I argued with my grandfather’s estate attorney.
I was completely thrown off guard by the unexpected reading of his will.
“Exactly what I just said, Mr. Saint Clair. The town is now yours. You own it.”
I sat there dumbfounded, utterly confused by the turn of events. The last time I stepped foot in that godforsaken Christmas town was when I left everyone in it thirteen years ago. I never looked back.
“You can’t be serious, Alfred.”
“Quite the contrary, sir.”
“Well, I’m urging you to reconsider.”
“It’s not personal.” He shook his head. “He’s just looking out for the future of his legacy.”
“Not personal, my ass! It couldn’t get any more personal than what he’s demanding of me.”
I took a deep breath and cracked my neck, feeling the throbbing strain from my pulsating jugular vein. This man knew how to push every one of my buttons and did it without hesitation. Even from the grave. Now he was pushing me to the brink of insanity, and I was just supposed to sit back and obey like a lapdog.
Inhaling another deep, solid breath, I snapped, “And what if I don’t want it?”
He shrugged as if what he had just informed me of didn’t turn my life upside down.
I muttered under my breath, “I can’t believe this.”
“Mr. Saint Clair,” he stressed, sliding the documents over to me. “It’s what your grandfather wanted.”
“No,” I snapped again. “What my grandfather wanted was to control me, and since he couldn’t do it while he was alive, he’s now demanding it when he’s dead.”
I couldn’t believe he thought I’d just bend at his will like he was simply asking me to take a meeting with a client and not alter the course of my entire future in such a drastic way.
The audacity of my grandfather knew no bounds.
He’d always been relentless in his pursuit, determined to make whatever he thought was right happen, no matter what or who it affected. The sad part was we were one and the same. I was exactly like him. For the first time in my life, I had no idea what the outcome would be, and I hated that more than anything.
“We all know what you’re capable of, Mr. Saint Clair,” he coaxed, pulling me away from my reckless thoughts.
“You think he’s doing this to you when, in reality, he’s doing this for you.”
“You’re being unreasonable and need to consider the possibilities.”
I contemplated his statement for a moment before quickly realizing this wasn’t a debate between my grandfather and me but an ambush from beyond the grave.
I narrowed my eyes at him, taken aback by what he meant.
Alfred nodded to the folder in front of me. “There’s a letter in there from your grandfather.” With that, he abruptly stood and walked toward my office door. “I’ll be outside once you’re ready, and then we can go over all the logistics. However, we don’t have a lot of time. You’re due in Mistletoe Town this afternoon to begin this year’s festivities and meet your new employees.”
“I can’t pick up and go like that,” I bit. “I have deadlines to meet with my clients and their homes.”
I was a general contractor with a thriving business. We focused on new builds and some remodels. I made a name for myself without the help of my family, and it wasn’t something I was going to give up without one hell of a fight. I had no interest in taking this on, whether he demanded it of me or not.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but you’ll have to figure it out. Like I said, you’re due in town this afternoon.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“Then you’re going to be responsible for all the children and their families not getting the Christmas experience your family has lived up to for decades. You want that guilt hanging over your head?”
“What the hell?” I stared at him in disbelief. “What am I, Santa, now?”
“Yes, sir.” He adamantly nodded. “The town is now your responsibility. Without you, it won’t run.”
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone who has no idea how to run that town to begin with. Especially just a few days before Christmas. This is ridiculous! You’re telling me my grandfather expects me to drop everything I’ve worked so hard for, for what? A town I hate and a holiday I can’t stand.”
“Yes… Mr. Saint Clair, we’re all aware of your distaste for a joyful time, but it’s what your grandfather wanted.”
“And my family? My parents? My siblings? What do they all have to say about this?”
“They agree.”
I jerked back, more confused than I was before. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“As I said…” He gestured to the envelope in my hand. “You’re due in Mistletoe Town this afternoon.”