Jo McNally

It Started At Christmas…


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leg at the sky.”

      Mel smirked, and Amanda knew what she was thinking. Clearly, someone hadn’t been to Vegas lately. Not all casinos were gaudy and gauche. On a more selfish note, Amanda wondered if they’d hired a decorator yet.

      “The Gallant Lake Resort?” Mel said. “That’s where we’re staying. It seems nice.” The sprawling four-story stone-and-timber hotel hugged the shoreline of the lake. The decor might be kitschy and straight out of the sixties, but the place was clean and the views were wonderful.

      “Yeah, the family that used to own it always took good care of the place. But they could never afford to remodel. Still, there’s no need to tear it down.”

      Amanda looked out the window at Main Street, dotted with puddles from last night’s rain. She saw several boarded-up storefronts. “Wouldn’t a casino bring in more jobs and tourists?”

      Cathy shrugged. “But at what cost? That resort’s history is a part of us. Old Blue Eyes himself used to sing there! The whole Rat Pack did. Streisand sang for the governor’s birthday party once. People would come up here from the city and boy, would they spend money!” Cathy brushed some dust off the windowsill with the corner of her apron. “The old resorts are being torn down all over the Catskills, and we don’t want to lose ours.” She perched on the edge of a nearby table. Mel smiled, as if enjoying the small-town lack of pretense. “We think if it was spruced up and advertised more, it would bring vacationers back to Gallant Lake again. Maybe the old ski resort would reopen. And the golf course. Business would pick up for everyone.”

      “But wouldn’t a nice new casino do the same thing?” Amanda couldn’t stand to be in a casino herself, with people pressing in from everywhere. Just thinking about it made her palms sweat. But if it would bring business to the obviously struggling town…

      “Ha! The operative word is nice. Mr. Hotshot wants to build some ugly ten-story high-rise on our beautiful lake. Main Street will be nothing more than a thoroughfare from the highway to his casino. That won’t help my business. He’s buying up houses just to turn them into parking lots. Parking lots!” Cathy laughed and winked. “Of course, we stopped him from turning one of them into a parking lot. We had his big old house declared a landmark and now he’s stuck with it! That boy picked the wrong little town to mess with.”

      Cathy was still cackling when she walked away. Mel gave a low whistle. “Whoever that guy is, I hope he doesn’t buy his coffee here. I’m pretty sure Cathy would spit in it.”

      Amanda giggled, then reached over to squeeze her cousin’s hand.

      “Thanks for coming with me this weekend, Mel. Whatever happens with the job interview tomorrow, it’ll be easier to handle the fallout with you here.” She was pretty sure she knew exactly what was going to happen. She was going to be sent packing. Her stomach clenched. It would be exactly what she deserved.

      “You’ll do great, kid,” Mel said. “No matter who he’s expecting, he liked the plans you sent, and he’s going to like you, too.”

      Her cousin had no idea how close Amanda was to giving up and going home to her mother’s house in Nowheresville, Kansas, with her tail tucked between her legs—a failure.

      “I hope so. If I can get a showcase job like this, it might be enough to start my own solo business.” It would also save her from slinking back home in disgrace after once again trusting the wrong guy. “We should get back to the resort.”

      “Yeah, I want to look at that purse you found at the antiques shop. I still say that little key was for a really fancy chastity belt.”

      Amanda smiled. Despite her budget woes, she’d found something she couldn’t resist buying. She’d fallen in love with the vintage beaded evening bag from the 1920s. To her delight, she’d discovered a tiny ornate key tucked inside. She and Mel had made up some hysterical possibilities for what that key might unlock.

      They grabbed their bags and headed to the rental car parked across the street. Mel was giving another lecture on how Amanda was worrying too much about things. Amanda did her best to tune it out because discussing her worry didn’t make her worry any less.

      Mel grabbed Amanda’s arm with a cry as she stepped off the sidewalk. An enormous black SUV sped by, too close to the curb. It hit a puddle, and before Amanda could react, she was drenched. The jerk barely slowed down before speeding off around the corner.

      “Son of a bitch!” Amanda jumped back and turned to Mel, who, of course, was perfectly dry. She was also doubled over with laughter.

      Amanda looked down. Her pink sweater clung to her, and water dripped off her fingertips. She wanted to be mad. She was mad. But when she looked up and found Mel still giggling, wiping tears from her eyes, Amanda couldn’t help but join her. If there was an edge of hysteria to her laughter, who could blame her?

      They were still laughing when they got back to the resort. Mel insisted that they walk right through the lobby with all their packages, despite Amanda’s soggy footprints.

      “Cathy said they’re tearing the place down anyway, so what difference does it make?”

      “Nathan, are you kidding me?” Blake Randall pressed harder on the gas and sent his SUV roaring up the country road approaching Gallant Lake. “You took our nephew to school a week early so you could take your girls on vacation without him? Who the hell does that to a ten-year-old kid?”

      Blake floored it past farms, double-wides and large Victorian homes. His hands gripped the wheel so tight he was surprised it didn’t snap.

      “I’ve had Zachary all summer, Blake,” his brother whined over the speakerphone. “Michaela wanted some time with our family.”

      “He is your damned family!” He and Nathan were the only family Zach had left. Their father wouldn’t even acknowledge the boy’s existence, so that left him and Nathan to give Zach a sense of family. Even if it was a thoroughly dysfunctional one.

      “You know what I mean.” He could hear Nathan taking a deep breath. His older brother always did that when he was trying to find the balls to challenge Blake. “Look, you’re his guardian. We took him for the summer, but it wasn’t a permanent thing.”

      “But you already have a family.” Nathan was a father. A questionable one, perhaps, but still. At least he wasn’t as clueless about kids as Blake was. “Why can’t you add one more?”

      “Not happening, Blake. Tiffany named you in her will. Not me.”

      “Only because she and Michaela hated each other.” Tiffany used to refer to Nathan’s wife as Butt Stick. Blake’s lips twitched at the memory of him and his sister laughing over that name.

      “And yet you think Michaela should raise Tiffany’s kid. What sense does that make?”

      Nathan had a point. Blake had qualms about Michaela raising her own children. As if Blake was some kind of expert.

      “He shouldn’t be at Beakman Academy by himself, a week ahead of the other kids.”

      “The upperclassmen are there this week,” Nathan sighed. “The headmaster said he’d be fine.”

      Blake slowed to pass a farm tractor driving up the road. Was that thing even legal? He stepped on the gas after he passed it, going too fast for being this close to the village. Sheriff Adams must have been busy somewhere else because Blake didn’t see any flashing lights. Benefits of a one-cop town.

      “So Zach’s at school with a bunch of kids four grades ahead of him? That’s perfect, genius. What could possibly go wrong?”

      “Jesus, Blake, I’m not an idiot. He’s not in the dorm—he’s staying with the headmaster and his family for the week. Feel free to drive over and get him if you don’t