“Well, maybe it was raspberry jelly,” he laughed. “Who’s to say?”
“No one warned me there were so many rules and requirements,” I told him, unfolding the four-page contest regulations from my notebook. “I’m starting to think I’ve gotten in over my head.”
The contest was in just three days and already I felt behind the eight ball.
“You know, there is such a thing as too much preparation.” Charles pulled the pencil from my hand. “Maybe I can help.”
I reached for the pencil but he held it away from me, teasing. “I don’t see how flirting is going to help me beat a guy wearing a film-accurate Storm Trooper uniform made of gingerbread.”
Charles stopped short. “Wait, really?”
I shrugged. “That’s the rumor.”
“But what does that have to do with the town or the holidays?” he scoffed.
“I don’t know. But it would be pretty impressive.”
“No.” He tossed my pencil at the countertop. “Unacceptable. The Thanksgiving Throwdown is about the season and celebrating Maplewood Creek. We can’t let some hokey pop-culture pandering take the top prize.”
“We?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re really bothered by this, huh?”
“Damn right,” he said, face scrunched in a determined grimace. “You’re going to win this thing. And you’re going to do it the Maplewood Creek way.”
“Yeah?” I said, skeptically amused by his sudden enthusiasm. “And how am I going to do that?”
A plan formed behind his brown eyes. “What you need is a little inspiration.”
I should have known better than to trust that smirk, but when Charles canceled his ski day to coax me out on a field trip, I couldn’t say no to another afternoon in his company.
“So, you want to tell me where we’re going?” I asked from the passenger seat of his Land Rover, while we bypassed the road to town and instead headed to the other side of the valley.
“If I did, you’d probably try to jump out of the car.” Charles shot a mischievous glance my way.
“You know, that doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. What could you possibly have planned that would make me want to do a tuck-and-roll?” I said, searching the snow-covered scenery for any hint of what he had in store for me.
“Trust me, you’ll love it. It’s just the thing you need to get a new perspective on your project.”
There was nothing but trees and sloping rock faces all around us until a sign crept out of the ground:
Maplewood Creek Executive Airfield
I glanced over at Charles. “I’m not sure we have time to fly to Bavaria and back before I have to start dinner service.”
He smiled to himself. “Don’t worry. I was thinking something a little closer by.”
Through a gate and inside the chain-link fence, Charles drove us past several hangars before driving right onto the tarmac.
“You can’t be serious.”
Looming in front of us on two skids was a blue and white helicopter.
“I never joke about flying.”
Charles jumped out of the Land Rover and walked right up to the pilot standing beside the aerial death machine. He left me sitting in theSUVwhile they shook hands and chatted, walking around the aircraft like he was on a car lot. My eyes immediately went to the center console, but he’d taken the keys with him.
Ugh. This man was seriously annoying sometimes.
So, I took a deep breath and plastered on my best unbothered expression before I hopped out of the Rover and threw the door shut behind me. A gust of wind blew across the tarmac, whipping my hair around my face. It was a clear day, if a little blustery. Not a cloud in the sky.
