Victoria shivered as she walked the short distance to Legend’s Sporting Goods. The quicker she started the acquisition process, the better. Her previous acquisitions had closed without the slightest hiccup, but she suspected this would be different. Why hadn’t she declined this one? Being back in her hometown was tough enough. Having to deal with this particular store owner would be torture.
Her gaze fell to the acquisition papers in her hand. Luke Dawson. She hadn’t seen or spoken to her ex-fiancé in twelve years. A different agent, a stranger in Brookhollow, may have had an easier time. Leaving town for a career in New York, abandoning the star quarterback and homecoming king two weeks before their wedding, hadn’t exactly put her on Brookhollow’s favorite people list. She bit her lip. Could she really be successful in a place she’d always considered a roadblock to her ambition?
She had to focus on what mattered: securing this purchase and getting out of Brookhollow before Christmas. Pausing in front of the store, she checked her reflection in the window, running a hand over her blond, shoulder-length hair. She forced several, slow deep breaths. It had been twelve years, how bad could this reunion be? She reached for the door handle.
“The store is closed for renovations,” a deep voice said to her right, several feet above her.
“Oh, well, I have a meeting with—” Victoria turned and took in the man on the ladder she’d walked right past without seeing “—Luke?” She placed a hand over her eyes to shield them from the low, setting sun glaring off the roof of Ginger Snaps, the bakery next door. She could barely make out his face in the blinding light, but the voice was unmistakable. “How long have you just been watching me from up there?”
“Long enough to enjoy that painful parking job.” He turned back to his work, placing a string of lights along the roof.
She glanced toward the rental car, parked on a slight angle in the space that now looked much larger than it had when she was trying to park in it. Squaring her shoulders, she moved closer. “Renovations? Didn’t you receive the letter from Clarke and Johnston Acquisitions earlier this week?”
“The one claiming you’d be here at noon today?” Luke asked.
Victoria struggled to maintain her composure. This wasn’t exactly how she’d pictured this meeting. In truth, she’d had no idea what to expect, but she hated that she’d given him the upper hand by being late. “Traffic was a lot slower than I’d predicted.” And she’d left the city three hours later then planned. “Anyway, the letter also stated that my firm will be placing an offer on Legend’s within the week.”
“I’m not interested in selling the store.” The sound of the nail gun reverberating off the awning made her wince.
“Either way, we should still discuss my client’s interest in obtaining it.”
He ignored her as he continued to work. An older couple she didn’t recognize stepped out of the bakery and shot her suspicious looks as they passed.
Victoria shivered as big, wet snowflakes began to fall from the darkening sky. “Do you think we could go inside?” She danced from one foot to the other, her feet chilled in her two-inch leather boots. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“Well, maybe you should have gotten here earlier.” He paused to look at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Luke,” she said, tilting her head to the side.
He waved her away. “Go on inside, the door’s open. I’ll be right with you.”
“Fine.” She pushed open the door. A small bell chimed as she entered Legend’s and looked around. Nothing had changed inside and an unwelcome sense of familiarity washed over her.
The same wooden shelves lined the wall behind the counter, displaying rows of trophies, marking the town’s many achievements in baseball, football and soccer. The New York Giant’s number-eighteen football jersey that belonged to Mr. Jameson, the previous store owner, still hung on the wall above. The front window was decorated the same way it had been year after year, with red-and-white lights bordering a cardboard cutout of a Santa sleigh driven by the Brookhollow High Cougars mascot and pulled by the football players. Pictures of the various high school teams framed the storefront.
She scanned the photos, and one in the
corner—of the 1996 junior boys soccer
victory—caught her eye. In the top-row center stood Luke, grinning from ear to ear in his Crimson Cleats uniform, division trophy held high above his head. A knot formed in her stomach as she wondered if the Dawsons had heard of her visit and if she’d run into his family. Despite how close the two families had been in the past, his mother and sisters had been quite clear about how they felt about Victoria ever since the day she left town. Ever since she’d said goodbye to Luke and returned her engagement ring.
She turned away from the photos and moved farther into the store, stepping over boxes of sporting goods. Everything from hockey sticks to baseball gloves littered the floor. Judging by the scattered goods, Luke had run out of room to store his stock. That didn’t bode well for the acquisition. More stock and upgrades meant she’d need more money to buy out the store.
Toward the back she paused in front of Mr. Jameson’s personal display of sports memorabilia, an extensive and impressive array of autographed footballs and jerseys. He’d also collected rare baseball trading cards, secured behind glass frames. Victoria ran a finger along the edge of the shelf and a puff of dust rose in the air. She shook her head. These items were worth a lot and they’d meant something to Mr. Jameson. If he knew how Luke was caring for them, he’d be rolling over in his grave.
She moved away from the collection and continued toward the stockroom, giving the swinging door a push.
“Hey.”
At the sound of a voice above her head Victoria started and her hand flew to her chest. A boy stood precariously on the top rung of a tall ladder, balancing a large box over his head. “I’m just waiting for…Luke.” She watched, horrified, as the kid scurried down.
“He said he’ll be back in about ten minutes. Mrs. Norris asked him to hang Christmas lights in her store window.” He moved the ladder to the corner of the stockroom.
“Yeah, I saw him stringing lights on the roof.”
The boy smiled at that, and she immediately got the joke. Ginger Norris was known for her add-on projects. Left alone, the older woman could find things for Luke to do all evening.
As he picked up a box, Victoria held the door for him and he carried it past her into the store. He set his load down in an aisle and turned to her. “You’re Victoria Mason, aren’t you?”
She hesitated as she looked at the young man. His face wasn’t familiar, but then again he would have been a baby or not yet born, when she’d left Brookhollow. She nodded.
“I heard you were coming to town. Are you home for Christmas?” He opened a box and began stocking a shelf with baseball mitts. Stopping to examine one, he shoved his hand in it, punching the leather a few times with his other hand.
Great, even this kid had heard the rumors. Asking her mother to keep a secret was futile, and gossip in this place spread faster than wildfire. She wondered what people were saying about her. After all this time, she hated that she still cared about the opinions of her former neighbors.
She shook her head. “No, I’m only here for a few days.” Her holiday plans never included Brookhollow. Every year she insisted her parents visit her in New York over the Thanksgiving weekend instead. She and her mother shopped, and her father took in a sporting event. Thanksgiving dinner was usually Chinese takeout while watching the replay of the Macy’s parade. Regrettably, that was their only real time together each year as her busy travel schedule and last-minute acquisition trips made taking planned holiday time nearly impossible. Christmas was spent on the ski slopes in Vermont with her New York friends, where she