a dozen, so we need a fresh angle to get TV coverage. Starlight Desert is a family-owned, homegrown mall. That’s our hook. How better to illustrate that than to have Marshall McCann be Santa Claus and his two sons Santa’s elves?” She grinned like Christmas morning. “You are nuts,” Chase said faintly.
“You and Fletcher would lead the kids to Marshall’s lap and take their photos. I know TV would eat that up. Chase? Your mouth’s hanging open.”
“You want my father to be Santa Claus? I can’t imagine anyone less jolly. And Fletcher in green tights and pointy slippers with bells?” He burst out laughing.
“He could wear a blazer and a tie if he wants.”
“Business Elf, right. I’d love to see that.”
“Don’t laugh too hard. You’ll be in green tights and bells, yourself, Chase.”
“I don’t see either of them agreeing to that.”
“It would just be for the opening weekend. We’d promote it on Facebook and Twitter.”
“The mall is on Facebook?”
“I created a persona—Bright Star. She’s a personal shopper who posts deals from our shops along with general shopping tips and tidbits.”
“Very smart.”
“So what do you say?” she said, her big eyes drilling him. “You can talk them into it, Chase. It’s important. They’ll have fun, too. And the store owners will love it.”
“I don’t know. I’d have to talk to Fletcher.”
“So call him.” She whipped out her cell phone.
“Jeez, you’re relentless, you know that?” He waved her away and pulled out his own phone. Sylvie had somehow made the most ridiculous idea sound vital to the mall’s survival.
He did like her. He surely did.
“Fletcher, listen. I’ve got a proposition for you,” he said when his brother answered.
“Uh-oh. First, I’m supposed to remind you about the big dinner tomorrow night. Nadia’s afraid you’ll forget.”
“I’ll be there, no worries. Listen, I’ve got Sylvie here with me and we’re talking about Christmas at the mall and—”
“Sylvie’s there? Yeah?”
“She is. And—”
“Put her on, would you?” Fletcher interrupted, his tone abruptly determined, as if he had a job to do.
“Okay….” What the hell? “He wants to speak to you,” he told Sylvie, shrugging as he handed her the phone.
Sylvie looked as puzzled as he felt. “Hi, Fletcher,” she said hesitantly. “I’m fine. How about yourself…? So far, so good. I’d say I’m giving him just as hard a time as he’s giving me.” She shot Chase a look. “Would I want to what…? Oh, I’d be intruding…. If you think so, I’d be happy to… All right. Sounds delicious. Sixish it is.”
Sylvie shut the phone looking bewildered. “Fletcher invited me to your homecoming supper. Nadia’s making pierogies.”
“So that’s my favorite. Hmm.”
“He said it’s been too long since I’ve been at the McCann table.” She frowned. “What’s this about, Chase?”
Uh-oh. Had their talk convinced Fletcher to fire up that torch for Sylvie again? “Your name came up when we were talking about the mall and he mentioned he hadn’t seen you in a while.”
“And…?” She held his gaze. “I can see in your face there’s more to it.”
“And…well, I sort of jerked his chain about being into you.”
“You what?” Her eyes went wide.
“From years back.”
“You knew about that?” Her cheeks colored.
“He let it slip once, yeah. Yesterday, he told me you turned him down, though.”
“It sounds like you two had quite the heart-to-heart. The whole McCann family seems to be entirely too interested in my love life. First you think I’m moving to Seattle to marry Steve and then you goad Fletcher into asking me out.”
“I was just joking around.”
“I’m not amused.”
“I don’t blame you, but my intentions were innocent, I swear. I wanted him to get a life. I told him to move on, find someone else.”
“He’s not going to ask me out, is he?”
“I can’t imagine he would, but I’ll make sure.”
“And how exactly will you do that?” She planted her hands on her hips, irritated as hell at him, he could tell.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll play it by ear. Trust me. He won’t ask you out.”
“Whatever you do, don’t make this worse. I don’t need another embarrassing moment with your brother.”
Chase was dying to ask what had happened back then, but he didn’t dare when she was this riled at him.
“I’ll be subtle.”
“Before tomorrow night at dinner?” she demanded.
“I swear.” He crossed his heart.
He was startled to realize he was glad that Sylvie didn’t want to date Fletcher. Which was completely nuts. It wasn’t like Chase was going to swoop in on her now.
Would she even want that? She’d felt something, he knew. He’d noticed the flicker in her eye, the softening of her body when they were close, a huskiness in her voice when the vibe zinged between them.
But Sylvie had discipline and restraint and had practiced self-denial since she was eight, calculating the best candy value instead of gobbling up whatever looked good. So even if she did want him, she wouldn’t act on it.
“Good, then. I haven’t been to supper at your house in a long time. Four years, I guess.”
“You used to come for holidays. I remember the first one. Thanksgiving, I think, with your grandparents?”
“Yeah. The year I moved in with them.”
“You sat so straight in your chair.” Her eyes had been wide with wonder at all the utensils, china and crystal. “Your grandma showed you what fork to use and how to scoop your soup.”
“And you shot a rubber band at me!”
“I wanted to see what you’d do. You gasped. It was perfect. Why’d you stop coming anyway?”
“When
