Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“C’mon, it’s dumb and you know it,” I chided, heat crawling up my neck.
He hopped off his stool and rushed over, waving his arms manically when I started to take it off. “Don’t! It’s not dumb, it’s the opposite of dumb. It’s holiday cheer and rugged hockey-elf hotness.”
“I am not a hockey elf.”
“You kind of are, and I’m here for it! Leave it on for a little while…just for fun.”
I let out a resigned sigh, but I left the hat on. Sure, I looked like an idiot standing on a stool hanging paper snowflakes like a North Pole dropout, but that smile…
My gaze strayed his way as I tacked another snowflake to the ceiling, admiring his perfect ass in his snug-fitted jeans, his long legs, and trim hips.
But there was so much more here. Ivan’s puzzling contradictions were laid bare under the guise of holiday cheer. He was dressed in black and if I wasn’t mistaken, he was also wearing a hint of eyeliner…like he had when we were in high school. The dark exterior didn’t hide his sunny nature. The grown-up version of the quiet kid who’d been in a few of my classes was colorful and vibrant.
Ivan oozed joy. And fuck, it felt so good just to be near him.
“Have you always been this into the holidays?” I asked, tacking another snowflake to the ceiling.
“Most definitely. My family goes all out. I grew up with a nativity under the tree, stockings on the mantel, advent calendars, Christmas carols. A lot of our traditions were religious. My grandparents on my dad’s side are from Italy, and they’re very Catholic. They go to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, eat panettone on Christmas Day, and keep the tree up until the Epiphany.”
“Do you still do all that too?”
“My family does, but I don’t have time to partake of every tradition. Still, Christmas is in my blood. Maybe like hockey is in yours,” he offered.
“Technically, baking or business is supposed to be in my blood. Our house always smelled like cinnamon and sugar during the holidays.”
“That sounds heavenly,” Ivan gushed.
“I guess so.”
“Don’t be Scroogey, and whatever you do, don’t tell me you don’t like Christmas.”
“I like Christmas fine,” I assured him with less enthusiasm than he was hoping for, judging by his frown. “But I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t get excited about Santa Claus or presents under the fuckin’ tree.”
Ivan sighed wearily. “That’s…sad.”
“Why is that sad?” I snorted. “You aren’t really expecting Santa and his reindeer to make an appearance on Christmas Eve, are you?”
“No, but the holidays are still magical.”
“How? It’s commercial madness. Corporations want you to think it’s all about peace and goodwill, but they really just want you to buy shit you don’t need.”
Ivan glowered. “That’s a very pessimistic view.”
“It’s reality, Ive. Money makes the world go round.”
“So does hope,” he argued. “I have a lot of stress on my plate at the moment, worrying about Stacy and the baby, and the business. But this…” He extended his arm, gesturing to the box of decorations and the snowflakes hanging from clear string on the ceiling. “This gives me hope.”
“Paper snowflakes?”
“And Mariah Carey and these hats, and the tree I need to decorate, and the lights I’ll put up tomorrow, and the gifts I need to wrap. This is ‘peace and goodwill toward all’ season, and I’m going to enjoy every tinseled, glittery, peppermint candy cane bit of it,” Ivan declared vehemently. “Starting with these fabulous snowflakes.”
“And how many of these fabulous snowflakes are we putting up?”
“Hmm, two hundred…give or take a few,” he replied.
“Two hundred?” I gaped incredulously. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”
“I know that sounds like a lot of snowflakes—”
“It sounds like a blizzard,” I deadpanned.
He chuckled. “Or a winter wonderland.”
“We have that outside.”
“No, we don’t. We haven’t had any snow yet—not a single flurry. And last year we didn’t get any wintery weather until mid-December. These snowflakes set the mood. Ambience is extremely important. I want our customers to be dazzled with holiday cheer. They may walk in bleary-eyed and half-asleep, but they’ll walk out of here with a piping hot cup of caffeine and a smile. They’ll remember how nice that felt and hopefully, it will make them return the next day. Or even later that afternoon.”
I furrowed my brow thoughtfully. “All because of snowflakes.”
“Yep.”
“Does it work?”
“Sales were up twenty percent last December from the previous one, so…yes. The trick will be to do the same this year on my own.”
I stepped off my stool and dragged it under a barren section of ceiling. “Why don’t you hire another employee? Mazie’s cool, but you obviously need help.”
He hopped down to grab another stack of snowflakes and refill his apron pocket with thumbtacks. “We’ll be fine. A new hire is not part of the plan. Neither was my partner getting married and pregnant in the same year. Talk about a surprise. Stace always said she didn’t want kids…or a husband. That was supposed to be me.”