Chapter One
Mistletoe had caused more problems for Layla Dean in the last year than she cared to remember. Yet here she was, hanging a mistletoe ball while standing on a twelve-foot ladder that trembled like a sapling in the wind.
All this aggravation for what—to perpetuate the holiday tradition of capturing kisses underneath a ball of fake foliage and holly berries?No, thank you.
One of the distasteful little things swung on a silver gossamer ribbon from her belt loop. Its destination was the crystal ball at the chandelier’s bottom, still four feet above her head. It needed to be hung before guests arrived at Blueberry Point Lodge for the evening. Layla didn’t want to get in the way of traffic in the foyer.
Two more steps.
“Are you okay?”
Below, Darcy Stetman, owner of the inn and holder of the ladder, looked up at Layla with concern wrinkling her brow while she held the cumbersome ladder as steady as possible.
“I think so.” She laughed nervously. “I’ll be better when I’m down there again.”
“Don’t rush,” Darcy said. “We’re in no hurry.”
“If I went any slower, I’d be moving backwards.”
She gripped the metal sides with such force her knuckles ached. It wobbled even more when she looked up at the wide crystal chandelier with its spray of branches and glass leaves. Her head started to spin again. She closed her eyes against the wave of dizziness that made her stomach flutter. Layla froze to reset her balance.
Darcy continued gushing about the work Layla had done since arriving that morning.
“This is going to be magical. I can’t tell you how happy Sean and I are that you were able to fit us into your schedule.”
Layla held off replying as she secured the ribbon to the crystal knob. A double knot should do it. There.
“Okay, I’m coming down,” she called before gingerly stepping from rung to rung until she was back on solid ground. She let out a big sigh.
“Are you afraid of heights?” Darcy asked. “I wish you’d said something. I could have attached it for you.”
Darcy was at least six inches shorter than Layla. The woman would have to stand near the top rung to reach the chandelier, a dangerous feat. Something told Layla that Darcy would have chanced it. She struck Layla as a little bit of a dynamo, daring and full of energy.
“I’m fine.” Layla grinned and took another deep breath. “It’s something I’ve been trying to conquer since I’m constantly on ladders. Anyway, coming up with the plan for this place was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. This is the type of job that makes a design portfolio sparkle.” She pressed a hand to her chest. Blood pounded in her ears like the pulse cycle on her washing machine.
“I’m so happy to hear that,” Darcy said. “Sometimes the space overwhelms me a little. Before I moved here, I lived in a studio apartment.” She laughed, a husky guffaw that made Layla jump a little.
When Layla first stepped foot in the inn’s immense foyer last month, her imagination soared. The double-wide staircase alone was worthy of a romantic movie scene, all oak and polish, the hand-carved curves of the balustrades and newel posts marvels in and of themselves. Pure artistry.
Layla nodded. “I get it. One of my first jobs was the Belvidere Hotel in the Twin Cities. After that one, I taught myself to think differently about each job. Now I focus on a few square yards at a time. It’s more manageable that way.” She cringed inwardly as she name-dropped. Selling herself was never an easy task, but not because she lacked credentials. Layla liked her work to speak for itself.
Darcy’s dark eyes widened. “Well, you came highly recommended.” She smiled as she walked to the sidelight at the door and peered through the sheers. “Did you run into snow on your way up? It looks like it’s finally starting here.”
“Not much. There was a little outside of Duluth.” Layla wanted to ask who recommended her. She liked to repay favors.
“This storm popped up out of nowhere. The early ones tend to sneak up on us, don’t they? I think it’s Mother Nature’s way of keeping us on our toes.” Darcy took the project binder from the credenza and returned it to Layla. “This is amazing. You went above and beyond what I expected.”
Layla put her hand up. “That’s your copy. I have my own.”
“Seriously?” Darcy hugged it. “I’ll treasure it forever.”
They’d hunted for inspiration online together during their first meeting, then separately during the weeks before Layla finished a proposal for what she planned for Blueberry Point Lodge. Darcy was an easy-to-please client. Layla wished they were all this pleasant to work for.
“If you’re ready for a break, why don’t we finish getting your things from the car? Then I’ll have Sean park your car in the carriage house. It will save you from unburying it on Friday when you leave.Ifyou’re able to leave.”
Layla walked to the window herself, peering across the back lawn toward Lake Superior. Outside, fat flakes appeared, drifting down from the dense white sky. The incoming storm painted the water, shore, and sky a dense gray. Layla clutched the neck of her sweater against her skin. It was already so cold.
After grabbing her overnight bag, she followed Darcy upstairs, pausing on the landing to admire the panels of stained glass depicting life on the lake. She stepped closer to study the colors and design. One panel showed a schooner on the lake. Another panel, a loon.
