Bright Lights, Big Christmas

“One of our clients paid a lot of money recently to have her do a paid promotion for their new coffee brand.”

With his fingertip he scrolled through Ashley’s feed, pausing at a backlit photo of the girl sipping from a mug of coffee, with a Siamese cat resting in her lap. She was dreamily looking out a window through a gauzy curtain.

Morning Musings with my #KoolBeansRoasters coffee and my bff #SillyBillyCat. Two things I can’t do without—my #KoolBeansRoasters coffee and my Billy. Link in bio to get a 20% discount and enter to win a KoolBeans giveaway.



“She got paid for that?” Kerry asked.

“Major bucks. And our client was deliriously happy. Look at the number of likes and comments. The account netted like two thousand new followers and the discount got them a nice sales bump.”

“Huh.”

“If she actually mentions Tolliver Tree Farms on Instagram it could be huge,” Patrick said. “Ashley and Shaun won’t promote just any product. They’re pretty picky.”

Kerry was pondering the possibilities when Patrick’s cell phone rang. His easy smile tensed. “Gretchen. Wonder what she’s mad at me about now?”

He tapped Connect on the phone.

“Hi. What’s up?”

His face softened as he listened. “Okay. Yeah. Glad you caught me. I’ll come right up.”

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Austin wants me to come up and read him a bedtime story. Gotta go.”

“See ya,” Kerry said. “And thanks, by the way, for the intel about Ashley.”

“Happy to help,” Patrick murmured. He leaned in and kissed her, very lightly, on the lips. “Hope something comes of it.”





chapter 19





When her phone started ringing the next morning, Kerry groped around on her bunk, then finally found it on the floor, on top of the mound of clothes she’d dumped the night before.

She blinked a few times when she saw the caller ID, and then the time. It was barely seven.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Is your brother around?”

She glanced over at Murphy’s bunk, where Queenie was sleeping. She walked to the door in her stocking feet, opened it, and peeked out. The CLOSED sign was still hanging where she’d left it the night before.

Shivering, she returned to her bunk and pulled the blankets up to her chin. “I don’t see him. Why don’t you call his phone instead of mine?”

“I did, but you know how he is. Half the time he doesn’t even know where his phone is, the other half, he only picks up if he feels like it.”

Kerry recalled Claudia’s parting words the previous evening. Clearly, Murphy had spent the night out.

“Guess he must have gone out for coffee. Or to deliver a tree.”

“At this time of the morning?”

“Mom, it’s New York. The city that never sleeps. Anything I can help you with?”

She sensed a note of hesitation in her mother’s voice. “No. Nothing important. Your dad had a question for him. Something about a piece of equipment.”

“I’ll tell Murphy to call you as soon as he gets back,” Kerry promised.

“Fine. How’s it going with you two? Are you getting along okay?”

“Sometimes yes, sometimes no. You know Murphy. He can be really prickly … And so closed off. I can never tell what he’s thinking.”

“Takes after his daddy,” Birdie said. “But give him time. He’s a good man, Kerry. Other than that, how’s business?”

“I thought it was going pretty well, but Murphy says we’re way behind on his usual sales numbers.”

“You’ll catch up.”

“How’s Dad?” Kerry asked.

There was a long pause.

“Mom? Are you there?”

Birdie sighed. “Fine. Cranky as ever.”

As if on cue, Kerry heard her father’s voice, querulous, demanding …

“Bird? Are you fixing my breakfast? You know I can’t take my pills until I eat…”

“You heard the man,” Birdie said. “Gotta go. Tell Murphy to call me when he gets back.”



* * *



Kerry stayed in bed for another fifteen minutes, her thoughts drifting to the night before, and Patrick’s parting kiss. What did it mean? In the South, people, even strangers, routinely hugged and kissed when they met, and when they parted ways. But this was New York City.

Finally, she dragged herself out of bed. Despite the space heater, it was still chilly enough that she could see her breath in the air. She longed for a hot shower, but there was no way she could impose on the Kaplans this early on a Sunday morning.

Kerry pulled on her jacket and snapped a leash to Queenie’s collar before walking her outside to the park to do her business. Finally, she filled the dog’s bowl with water and food and directed her to her moving blanket beneath the worktable outside. She heard church bells ringing from St. Egbert’s on the next corner. The sun shone down. The sidewalk was alive with people walking dogs or pushing babies in strollers. A man dressed in tights and a sleeveless T-shirt jogged past, and Kerry shivered on his behalf. Delivery trucks rolled down the street, and two teenagers whizzed past on electric scooters. The door of a diner opened and she caught the aroma of frying bacon and what? Dill pickles? It struck Kerry that this corner of the West Village really was a little village, full of life and the sounds and smells of a big city, and after only a week it felt a lot like home.

She pulled out the custom purple-and-white wreath and finished attaching the last few bits of mistletoe. Just as she was finishing tying the bow, a sleek black sedan pulled up to the curb and Susannah, the redheaded customer, jumped out of the back seat.

Kerry held the wreath up so she could inspect it. “It’s perfect,” the woman gushed. “Better than I could have hoped. The trees are wonderful too. Your brother even put them in the stands for me. My apartment smells like an alpine forest. Heavenly.” She handed a wad of bills to Kerry.

“But … but … you already paid me,” Kerry babbled.

“That was before I saw the finished product. And, take a piece of advice from someone who’s been in business for herself for a very long time. Never argue with a customer who wants to pay you what you’re worth. Too many women undervalue themselves.”

Susannah jumped back into the sedan and it rolled away. Kerry unfolded the bills. There were five twenty-dollar bills. Not a bad start for the morning.

In the next hour, she sold three more trees, all to customers who either promised to return to pick up their purchase after returning from brunch, or who wanted their trees delivered.

Still no sign of Murphy. She should have been annoyed, but then, she decided, why shouldn’t he have a night off? Especially when it involved a sleepover with the glamorous Claudia.

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