Verwandte Artikel zu The Christmas Wager

The Christmas Wager - Softcover

Cassidy, Holly

 
9780593544051: The Christmas Wager
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593544056 ISBN 13: 9780593544051
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

A delightful enemies-to-lovers holiday rom com set in the quaint mountain town of Maple Falls, Colorado, about a city girl and a small-town boy who compete in the town’s annual holiday games in order to win the right price for a charming, local Christmas shop, perfect for fans of The Hating Game and The Twelve Dates of Christmas.

One rivalry. Eight days until Christmas. Let the holiday games begin.

When L.A.-based real estate developer Bella Ross arrives in the sleepy mountain town of Maple Falls, she has one mission: to acquire the local failing Christmas shop, Always Noelle, securing the promotion of her dreams. Nothing can get in her way. Except the shop owner’s stubborn grandson, Jesse Harrison.

Both refuse to budge, until an unlikely wager is struck: Bella and Jesse will compete in the Maple Falls Holiday Games, an annual tradition of eccentric feats of strength and skills. Winner decides the selling price. They’ll give each other a run for their money, but as the competition heats up, Bella and Jesse’s icy feelings toward each other begin to thaw. It’ll take a Christmas miracle for them to admit there’s a spark, but what if it’s just another game?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Holly Cassidy is the pen name for internationally bestselling author Hannah Mary McKinnon. Her suspense novels include The Neighbors, Her Secret Son, Sister Dear, You Will Remember Me, Never Coming Home, and The Revenge List publishing May 2023. McKinnon was born in England, grew up in Switzerland, and now lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and three sons. The Christmas Wager is her first novel writing as Holly Cassidy.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter 1
Bella

"Bella, what did you do?" Luisa groaned as she leaned across her desk toward me, her voice so low I almost couldn't hear. Her knack for the dramatic made me grin. In the time we'd worked and lived together, I'd got used to my best friend being a little over-the-top. Somehow she always expected the worst and was more shocked than surprised when whatever life-altering catastrophe she'd envisioned didn't materialize.

"I didn't do anything," I said, before hesitating a little. "I don't think so, anyway."

Maybe Luisa's instincts were spot-on, and I had messed up because at Dillon & Prescott, being summoned to my boss's office at 8:32 a.m. on a Friday was rarely good news. Valerie Johansen probably hadn't had her second cup of coffee yet, which meant she'd be more direct, our internal code for "blunt," than usual. Although whether that was possible had often been subject to intense debate.

"Are you sure?" Luisa didn't need to whisper, considering Valerie's envy-inducing, freshly remodeled corner office was one floor above ours. As mid-level minions-something I'd been working hard to fix-Luisa and I had a cubicle that was dead center of the building, devoid of most natural light. Even though Dillon & Prescott designed and built exclusive mansions and commercial structures, this floor of the national headquarters in Los Angeles left a lot more planning to be desired. Considering we were always among the first to arrive and last to leave, it was a wonder we didn't need three pairs of sunglasses when we stepped into the California sun.

Luisa nibbled the tip of her pen, her full, glossy lips in a semi-pout and hazel eyes flashing with concern. "I wonder what you did to make her mad."

"Nothing, honest, but if there was anything, I'm sure I can handle it."

I tried hard not to appear flustered as I got up, which didn't work because in my haste I knocked over my pen cup, sending my ruler, scissors, and pencils flying. A few of our colleagues turned their heads in our direction, including Miles Serpico, whom I'd ignored as much as humanly possible for the last few months. He craned his neck, no doubt trying to eavesdrop on our conversation and gather any bit of information he could use to get ahead. I shot him a piercing stare, wishing there was some truth in the saying if looks could kill.

I turned back to Luisa and lowered my voice. "I handed in the quarterly reports before they were due, and put the brochure for the McClellan building together, exactly how Valerie asked."

"Did you though?" Luisa joined me in giving Miles another glare. She didn't care for him either. "You added more about the amenities and swapped out the fitness studio photos."

"Yeah, because they were better."

"Agreed, but maybe she didn't approve of the initiative."

"I guess I'll find out."

As I gathered my notepad and pen, I gave the desk I'd worked at for nearly three years a lingering glance in case I never saw it again. Maybe I'd picked up Luisa's habit of projecting potential disaster, but employees from our floor who were ordered upstairs on such short notice generally didn't return. The thought filled me with fear. I loved my job, had worked so hard to heave myself a rung or two up the corporate ladder one late night at a time. I didn't want to slide back down because I'd made an impulsive decision.

"If anyone from security shows up to pack my stuff, will you message me?" I whispered. When Luisa gave me a nod and wished me good luck, I returned the gestures with what felt like a grimace before dashing for the stairs.

My pulse quickened when I pushed the heavy gray metal door open. Two seconds after slamming shut behind me with a solid clunk, it opened again. When I turned, Miles stood at the bottom step, one of the typical snide grins he usually sent my way plastered across his face. He was a handsome guy. Tall, square jaw, great head of hair, but he was pompous and ruthless. Something I'd learned the hard way.

"Trouble in paradise?" he said.

Instead of a reply, I gave him his third withering look of the day, which wasn't even a record, and continued upward, telling myself to keep calm and not let him get to me. Considering our history, it was easier said than done, and getting more difficult with each passing day.

Another flight of stairs later, and it was as if I'd arrived in a different world. Up here, instead of the splotchy coffee-stained, faded green carpet from my office, the floors were thick planks of polished oak. The kind where you fretted over leaving dusty prints in your wake, no matter how many times you'd wiped your shoes.

A sleek Christmas tree stood in one corner, covered with gold baubles and fancy crystal candy canes. This sophisticated Fraser fir looked nothing like the fake, sad, secondhand one on our level, which Luisa insisted we yank from the broom closet every December and decorate with yards of popcorn garland to hide the missing branches.
 
She'd gone all out with her side of our cubicle this year, too, with red tinsel and sparkly silver star ornaments, a giant plaid stocking, and a set of white pom-pom string lights. Last week, she'd added a motion-activated foot-high Santa, who wiggled his hips and sang "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" every time we moved until the batteries mysteriously disappeared. In contrast, my desk, which was the kind of run-down, chipped brown laminate relic from the '70s everyone had on our floor, was almost bare.

Unlike Luisa, I didn't care for the holidays. Not since my dad walked out on Mom and me three weeks before Christmas when I was ten. Things had never been the same between us since. Or between me and Mom. I couldn't wait to get the whole season over with for another year.

I pressed on. The scent of freshly brewed coffee from expensive chrome machines filled the air while I hurried past gleaming wooden desks and an array of conference rooms complete with bespoke oval tables, designer leather chairs, and sweeping views of the city. Only a couple of the rooms were already occupied. Unlike the staff downstairs, who always reminded me of manic bees buzzing around a huge hive, the employees on this level were permitted to arrive by a leisurely 10:00 a.m., oozing a serene professionalism. They waltzed into the foyer wearing expensive suits and starched shift dresses, and I felt self-conscious in my Target and H&M combos.

I only glimpsed this upper floor a handful of times a year, whenever I'd drop off reports for Valerie or attend the rare meeting, and each time I'd dream of being transferred up here on a permanent basis. It would certainly wipe the perma-smirk off Miles's face, although I refused to imagine his victorious sneer if Valerie fired me today.

It was no secret that I was ambitious and driven. I wouldn't celebrate my thirtieth birthday until the summer, but I'd set my sights on a high-flying career before graduating from high school in the tiny town of Bart's Hollow in Ontario, Canada. I'd escaped one of the most frigid places on earth as soon as I could, trying to leave behind the memories of my father's abandonment and the arguments with my mother that ensued thereafter, heading to Toronto to study business and work for a few years, and then on to L.A. I'd applied for jobs in California well before I'd received my U.S. passport, an uncomplicated task thanks to Dad originally hailing from Seattle, and the offer from Dillon & Prescott had been too good to refuse.

I hadn't been home in almost four years. Truth was, Bart's Hollow hadn't felt like home for ages before then, and I still didn't like small towns where everyone knew everybody's business and insisted on mixing in. Dad had always raved about the West Coast, and I'd dreamed of living in L.A. since I'd watched the...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2023
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593544056
ISBN 13 
9780593544051
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
352
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
GPSR Kontakt
gpsr@libri.de

Europaallee 1
Bad Hersfeld
36244
Deutschland

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