Fabricated Christmas Read online

  Now that I have a job secure the only thing left is finding a place to rent. I didn’t take this into consideration either and the listings in the newspaper were nonexistent. I did see an advertisement for a realtor. I’m hoping I can catch them in office before they close for the weekend. I take out the newspaper again and check the address. I’ve only been in town for two days and haven’t a clue where anything is even though it’s so small. I’m used to having everything at my fingertips or paying someone to get what I want or need.

  Being on my own is refreshing and utterly terrifying after being a socialite under my father’s thumb for my whole life it feels good to break free. A motorcycle roars by and it takes me a moment to recognize my new boss and his daughter rolling past me. He doesn’t dress like any biker I’ve ever met but he sure has the attitude. Not that I have encountered any in real life. I’ve only watched them on Tv and in movies. I continue down the street glancing at the signs on the businesses as I stroll toward the fire station. I arrive in front of the red brick two story building and a couple of guys are spraying down a rescue vehicle. “Hi, can you help me with something?”

  The tall guy controlling the hose shuts the water off, shooting me a grin, popping his handsome dimples out at me. Dressed in his navy-blue tee and coveralls he tugs on one of his red suspenders. “Sure thing. What can I do for you?”

  “Can you tell me where Shamrock Reality is?”

  “I can do you one better and escort you there myself.”

  “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Not at all. Comes with the job, serve and protect and all that.”

  “I thought that’s what cops say.”

  “Well still applies.” He drops the hose. “Yo, Phil. I’ll be back. Got a pretty lady here needing directions.”

  The other man, tugs on his graying beard. “Yeah sure. Meet me at Bud’s when you’re done. I’ll finish up here. You’re buying first pitcher.”

  “You got it. Follow me.”

  He steps in stride next to me, leading me down a side street. Any other time I’d be scared the guy is guiding me somewhere private to do his worst, but this isn’t a big city. Firemen are the good guys anyway. But that doesn’t stop fifty scenarios from playing in my head. What if he drags me behind a dumpster to strangle me? Or throws me in a van to sell me to sex traffickers?

  “So the office is in an alley?” I hedge.

  He chuckles and runs a palm over his sandy brown hair that curls around his ears. “No, just a shortcut.”

  “Oh. Right.” I shake my head feeling stupid and slightly embarrassed for having such terrible thoughts.

  “So, you new around here or simply passing through Shamrock?”

  “New that’s why the realtor. I’m looking to rent or buy a place.”

  “Amy will take good care of you. Just don’t tell her you know me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I dated her daughter when I was in high school and it didn’t end well. She holds a grudge.”

  “Oh. Noted. Though I don’t know your name.”

  “Branson Wilder.”

  “Any relation to Finnick?”

  “He’s my brother. How do you know Finn?”

  “He um sort of offered me a job at his office.”

  His lips tip up into an even bigger smile.

  “What’s with that look?”

  “Nothing. Here you are. Nice to meet you…”

  “Maisy.”

  “Maisy,” he rolls my name off his tongue then smirks. “See you around.”

  “See you.”

  Branson salutes me and jogs back the way we came from. I look to the realtor office across the street only to find it closed. Shoot. Guess I will try again tomorrow or call on Monday. The Shamrock Inn is okay, but I want to be in my own space.

  I sigh and take the long way back to the Inn. It’s the only place to stay in town. I think it hasn’t been updated since the day it opened fifty years ago and that’s being kind. It’s like I moved to Mayberry or some fictional sitcom from the 1950s where the streets are lined with gorgeous flowers and the streetlamps light up as soon the sun sets. There’s not even a cigarette butt on the ground.

  Big change from New York and the constant shuffle from luncheon after luncheon and dinner party after dinner party on showcase to sit pretty and show the world I was a perfect daughter who did as Daddy told her to. That all changed when the old man tried to force me to do the unthinkable. He tried to force me to marry the son of one of his potential investors to seal a deal. I never thought my father viewed me like one of his real estate properties but that’s exactly how I felt when he tried to persuade me to marry for the better good of his company.

  Shamrock Inn opened its doors in 1965. The building sits on the last street before the suburbs begin next to a gas station. Not like a corner store. This is a full-service pump station. They even sell homemade fudge and rock candy at the register.

  I enter the lobby and Vina is working the desk tonight. She checked me in when I first arrived here. “Hey, girl. Love that dress.” She smiles, pushing her thick black glasses up the slope of her nose and closes her book.

  “So, what do people do for fun around here on a Friday night?”

  “Bingo at the rec center. The drive-in movie theater normally but they won’t have another showing until they start their ten nights of Christmas in December. Some go to the diner or hit up Bud’s for a drink.”

  That’s the second time I’ve heard Bud’s mentioned. “What kind of place is it?”

  “Loud, but um do you own any jeans? You’ll stick out like a sore thumb in the dress. At the bar tell Josie I sent you. That’s my sister-in-law. She’ll watch out for you.”

  I start to tell her I’m a big girl, but I think Vina is only being sweet. These small-town people sure are talkative and friendly. “Thanks,” I mutter and head upstairs to my room. I fish the key out of my clutch. It’s a real key attached to a black shamrock key chain. No plastic key card or passcode. I twist the knob and it sticks some. I have to push in on it a little with my shoulder. Who knew something so basic could excitement me? Kicking off my peep toe heels I unzip my dress, dropping it to the ugly, brown, worn utility carpet covering the floor. While the place is outdated, they do keep it clean. Well decent enough that my skin doesn’t crawl when I get under the sheets.

  I go to the closet where my rolling luggage is stored. I wheel it out and sit it up on the small table by the window that overlooks the parking lot. Digging through my clothes, I find what I’m looking for. My skinny jeans and a black top that hangs off the shoulders.

  I sweep my blonde hair up into a ponytail and freshen my makeup. That fireman from earlier was pretty dang hot. I’m not looking to hook up, but I’m not against a little shameless flirting either. I touch up my makeup, add a second coat of mascara, and pop my lips, massaging the ruby red matte lipstick into my skin.

  Perfect.

  I return to the closet and debate on shoes. My gaze zeroes in on my black stilettos, but Bud’s doesn’t sound like the kind of place a woman wears heels to, so I settle on my black ballerina flats. I should probably walk, since I intend to drink but this town doesn’t strike me as the type to have a cab or Uber or any of those services. Three drinks max then I’ll switch to water.

  3

  —Finnick—

  I stand at the end of the driveway with Auden as we wait for her mother to pick her up. “Hey, Dad?” she asks, finally looking away from the game she’s playing on her phone. A phone she only has so that she can contact me at any time when she’s with her mother, otherwise I wouldn’t have let her have it.

  “What?”

  “How come you’re not married?”

  “I was, to your mother.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I know that, but she’s married to someone else now. How come you’re not?”

  I shrug. “Just haven’t found someone I see that with yet.”

  “That woman you hired today is pret
ty.” I look down at her, eyes narrowing as she grins up at me.

  I see what she’s doing.

  “She’s way prettier than that other lady that came into your work earlier. She had on way too much eye makeup.” She’s got that right. “I bet she’d want kids. I’m tired of waiting for a sister.” I keep my mouth shut. I know what Auden is trying to do here. Not gonna work. She’s been spending too much time with my mother instead of her own. It’s a damn shame, but it’s the way things are. Kenya doesn’t have custody of her other kid, so when she does get her time with that one, it’s usually on an opposite weekend of Auden’s visits. I try my damnedest not to speak ill of Kenya to our daughter, but its damn hard sometimes.

  “Hey look, there’s your mom.” I quickly change the subject once I see Kenya’s Mustang turn down the street. It used to be mine, but I gave it to her in the divorce, it was one of the only things she asked for. I hated to see it go, though I wanted to be rid of her more than I loved the car. I never drove it anyway.

  “Hey. Sorry I’m late. My doctor’s appointment ran over,” she calls out through the passenger window. I bend down, giving Auden a hug goodbye.

  “Bye, Dad.”

  “Sunday, at four. Don’t be late.” I glance at Kenya.

  She waves me off. “Don’t worry, I know. Later.”

  I step back as they drive off, and I scratch my head. Was Kenya just acting like a normal human being? Normally she glares at me or argues about every little fucking thing. Then I remember she’s pregnant. That always makes her somewhat agreeable.

  “Finn.” I glance over my shoulder as I start walking to my house to see it’s my brother cutting across my lawn.

  “Hey, Bran, what’s up?”

  “Heading to the bar, you coming?”

  “Yeah, let me get changed.” Inside my house I pass through the living room and make a left going down the hallway under the stairs to the master suite. Auden has the upstairs to herself except for my home gym I set up in one of the spare bedrooms. When I purchased the two-story modern farmhouse, I thought Kenya and I would have at least two more kids. Now the place seems a bit too large for just Auden and me, though I can’t bring myself to downsize. I guess part of me keeps holding out thinking one day I will find someone to share all this with. I trade my suit for jeans, preparing myself for another Friday night doing the same shit I always do. Have a few beers and shoot a couple games of pool with my brother.

  Hard rock belts from the jukebox of Bud’s. Some new shit that makes my ears want to bleed. Place is the only bar in town. It’s usually just us locals but when summer rolls around so do the tourists who camp at the lake and rent out the summer cabins and homes. We get even more traffic around Christmas from tourists going north to Santa Claus, Indiana. Another month or so and this place will be so damn packed with the Christmas loving crazies the fire marshal will be doing head counts.

  Tonight it’s only the usual locals and the new chick in town. My new hire. My brother seems to have taken a liking to her. The moment we arrived he went straight for her. I didn’t know they knew one another. It shouldn’t get under my skin that he’s chatting her up and no doubt making a play, but it does. Branson and I have always been a bit competitive so this shouldn’t be any different.

  Jaw muscle ticking, I glare at Branson and Maisy. I suck in a deep breath and exhale. Taking another gulp of beer, I start feeling pissed. Why the fuck am I getting jealous? I don’t know her. I shouldn’t care that my brother is leaning way too fucking close to her for my liking. Gets me even more pissed off when she laughs at whatever the hell he’s whispering in her ear.

  Her infectious giggle rings out over the music. I shake my head and take another hard pull off my beer bottle. I signal Bud to get me another.

  “Finnick,” a sultry voice purrs into my ear as hands with fake red fingernails roam over my shoulders.

  “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, twisting in my seat to glare at Amanda. Her black hair curls over her shoulders hugging her big tits as they spill out the top of her tank top. “What’d I say?”

  She pouts, making her look like she’s constipated. “Oh, stop that, you know you want to come back to my place and fuck my brains out.”

  I grimace at the thought of my dick going anywhere near her again. We had our run. I got what I needed, and she did too. Bud slides my beer across the bar and grabs my empty and tosses it in the bin behind the bar.

  “Come on, Finny pooh.”

  “Don’t fucking call me that.” I gently push her away from me, not giving a fuck that she loses her balance almost crashing to the floor before righting herself. “Stay the hell away from me.” I vacate my stool at the opposite end of the bar before she can do anything else and storm towards my newest hire. “Save me,” I grumble into Maisy’s ear as I drop down to the empty stool next to her.

  Her brows shoot up. “Why am I saving you? Didn’t I save you earlier from some psycho?”

  “Same crazy chick.” I peel at the corners of the label on my beer. Condensation drips down the bottle.

  Maisy’s head whips around, gaze settling on Amanda glaring at her and she laughs. She shrugs once she turns back around. “Not my problem. That’s all you, boss man.”

  “Come on. Don’t feed me to the viper. I can’t shake the crazy bitch. She won’t leave me alone.”

  “What? Are you going to tell me you’ve got a magic dick or something?”

  “Maybe. Fuck, I just need her to get gone. I don’t care how you do it.”

  “You’ll owe me.”

  “What will it cost me?” I almost groan. I don’t want to owe her shit, but she’s right. I do owe her for saving my ass twice now. And hell, to be honest. Owing this gorgeous creature wouldn’t be too terrible.

  “The realtor office was closed when I went by…I’m looking for a place to rent. I’d prefer to buy but will settle with renting until something better comes along. You know of any places around for me?”

  “If you’re looking for a place, where are you staying right now?”

  “The Inn.”

  What the fuck? That place is a damn shit hole. “I’ll call around tomorrow. Find you something.” I have a place, but I already have her working for me. I don’t want her living on my land too. That would be inappropriate. When I bought my house, it came with a mother-in-law apartment attached over the garage. I use it for poker night and hosting fight night. Sure I could easily offer it up for Maisy to rent, but this town…I don’t need the headache that’d come from the gossip. I try to set a good example for my kid, but maybe it’s time I put myself out there for real and start considering serious prospects for a woman in my life.

  “Another shot?” Branson looks to Maisy, and I cut my eyes at him. “Or not.” He shoves away from the bar and stomps toward the pool tables. I hate to shut little bro down. I know he needs to get laid, only tonight Maisy is mine. I need her to keep Amanda’s stalker ass the fuck away from me.

  “Okaaayyyy…” Maisy draws the word out, staring after him, and it boils my blood. I don’t know what the hell my deal is. I know nothing about her but everything inside me is screaming she’s mine.

  “Fuck. Here comes crazy.” I let out a groan as Amanda traipses toward us.

  Maisy pushes away from the bar, abandoning her stool, to place an arm around my shoulder. Leaning in close, her lips nearly brush the shell of my ear. “Hey, boss man. You promised to give me a ride on your Harley.”

  “Finn,” Amanda snaps.

  We both turn toward her. I lick my lips wondering how the hell to get away from crazy pants without starting a fight.

  “You ready to go?” Maisy questions, ignoring psycho bitch, tugging on my hand.

  I knock back the rest of my beer and toss a twenty on the bar.

  “Finnick Wilder, if you leave here with this out of town skank, we’re through.”

  “Can I get that in writing?” I chuckle, going to my feet. I latch an arm around Maisy’s waist.

  She gazes up at
me mouthing the words, “kiss me.”

  Shit. I glance back at Amanda while sensing everyone in the bar watching our scene go down. I know I have to drive the message home that there will never be anything between us, but lip locking with my new hire doesn’t seem like the best idea and not in front of the whole damn town.

  Amanda taps her foot and shoots me a murderous look. Jesus. I can’t handle another minute of her crazy.

  Screw it. If I cause a scene so be it. Won’t be the first time I’ve been the topic of gossip. Kenya had my name in the mouths of everyone in town for years until they got shot of something else to whisper about. I dip my head, bringing my mouth down on Maisy’s. I close my eyes and press my lips against her plush red ones, tasting her fruity cocktail. The flavor of peaches and strawberries explodes on my tongue. Hell. I didn’t mean to slip her the tongue but fuck me can she kiss. Mouth so damn sweet and tempting. She tastes like mine. Which is insanity.

  “I hate you, Finn,” Amanda screeches before rushing to the bathroom.

  Maisy pulls back wearing a sexy as sin smirk. “You’re welcome. Don’t forget, you owe me, big guy. Sooner rather than later.”

  “Yeah. Yeah,” I grunt feeling relieved and like the world’s biggest asshole for having to take things this far, but that kiss was hella nice and unexpected. I escort Maisy out the bar, hoping that’s the last either of us see of Amanda. “You good to drive?”

  “Yup. I’m tip top, boss man.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Then what should I call you?”

  “Call me Wilder .”

  “All right, Wilder. I’ll see you Monday but if you happen to find a rental for me before then, call me at the Inn. Room thirteen.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “You better.” She starts down the street, stumbling in the direction of the Inn, and I shake my head.

  I look around the parking lot, did she walk here? “Where’s your car?”

  “I can walk a straight line,” she says, throwing a small wave up, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. Like hell I’m letting her walk there alone. Shamrock is safe enough, but it’s still late at night. She’s a new woman in town who appears to be single, and I’m not a complete asshole despite what everyone might think. Besides, maybe I’m not ready for this whatever it is to end. I don’t want to admit it because it’s been a damn long time since I’ve felt this pull to someone new, but I like her. She’s feisty and sexy. I decide what the hell. I’ve got nothing to lose. “Maisy?”