A Savannah Christmas Wish. Nan Dixon

      Daniel tapped the file against his leg. Pop was...energetic. Tireless. Smart. They’d celebrated his fifty-fifth birthday last month, and Pop had kept them up until morning. Then he’d swung a hammer with the crew the next day.

      “Are you ready to talk about the Carleton House bid?” his mother asked.

      He held up the file. “Got it right here.”

      She poured sweet tea and they sat at the heavy wood kitchen table.

      “With Fitzgerald House complete, your father can’t wait to start on Carleton House.” His mother leaned closer. “Abby needs to stop feeding him.”

      “Like that will happen.” He took a swig of his drink. “Abby brought sandwiches to the carriage house today.” And Bess brought the lemonade and her attitude.

      Pop came down the back stairs, rubbing his neck. “Who’s stealing my pie?”

      “Mom hasn’t offered me a piece.” Daniel pushed the file over to him. “I finished reviewing the Carleton House bid. That’s a lot of money.”

      “I know.” Pop nodded. “That’s why I wanted your eyes on it.”

      Mom was on her feet. “Do you want something to drink?”

      “Tea’s fine.” Pop gave Mom a hug. “Thanks.”

      Mom cut the pie and poured another glass. Then she grabbed her laptop and Pop opened the folder.

      “It looked like you missed the wrought-iron bids. I added them in.” Daniel took a bite of pie. The sharp lemon had his mouth watering. “You make the best pie.”

      “Aren’t you sweet?” Mom smiled. “Did you send me a new bid file?”

      “This morning before I headed out.”

      Pop mumbled and pulled out the subcontractors’ bids. He grabbed a pen and ticked off amounts. “Gol darn it, I missed the wrought iron.”

      “I double-checked all the other sub bids.” Daniel had triple-checked everything. Mistakes weren’t acceptable. “It looks good now.”

      He finished his pie, pushing his plate away.

      “We’ve got another problem,” his mother said. “Carleton House will deplete our cash.”

      Daniel frowned.

      “I’ve run forecasts on our current projects.” Mom flipped around her laptop. “Once we add in Carleton House, our credit line won’t cover our operating expenses.”

      They looked at the graph. Pop ran his hands through his white hair, making it stand up. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

      Mom raised an eyebrow. “I’m not just a pretty face.”

      “Don’t I know it?” Pop kissed her on the forehead. “You’re the best risk I ever took.”

      “I took the risk, falling in love with an upstart contractor.” She linked her hands with her husband’s.

      Equal doses of happiness and envy shot through Daniel. His parents were a team.

      “We have time to get a bigger line in place,” Mom said.

      Pop tipped his head. “The bank pushed back last year when we renewed the credit line.”

      “What about the State Street apartments?” Daniel tapped his finger against the table. “Real estate markets are coming back. We could turn the apartments into condos.”

      They kicked around ideas while his mother ran numbers. “If we sell three units by November, this will work.”

      Three months. Daniel nodded. That sounded plausible.

      “I’m glad we hadn’t decided on the rent increases.” Mom shut her laptop. “I’ll look up the renewal dates and contact the tenants.”

      She looked at Daniel. “Bess.”

      Daniel cringed. Bess had just told her sister how much she loved her apartment.

      “Why don’t you warn her?” Pop suggested.

      Heat filled his face. There were plenty of reasons he didn’t want to talk to Bess, but none he could tell his parents. He checked the schedule on his phone. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything critical that would prevent him from breaking the news. “Sure. I’ll talk to her.”

      Daniel rubbed the bump on his nose, compliments of Bess. How she would take the news was anyone’s guess.

      * * *

      DAMN DANIEL. BESS anchored the final lotus plant in the pond with more oomph than necessary. Water and mud splashed her face. He knew exactly when she’d be able to get into the gardens.

      Sugar wouldn’t sweeten Daniel’s in control, I’ll tell you when I’m ready disposition.

      Something nudged her hand. She flicked her fingers and a flash of orange and yellow darted away.

      “How does it look?” Bess asked her assistant.

      “Fantastic,” Molly said. “This is the best pond we’ve ever put together.”

      Bess slogged her way out of the middle, her feet squishing inside her waders. Halfway up the hill, she pulled them off and tipped out the water. “So much for staying dry.”

      “Now I know what you’d look like as a brunette.” Molly laughed. “Gorgeous.”

      “Right.” Bess pulled on her ponytail. Mud caked her hair. “How did I get so dirty?”

      Bess grabbed her water and glugged down a quart. She didn’t know if she was hot from the weather or from dealing with Daniel Forester. Or maybe it was seeing Daniel with his shirt off. She rubbed her temples. His body deserved to be sculpted. Better yet, frozen and put on display—then he couldn’t open his mouth and irritate her.

      “I could use a short downpour to wash off the mud,” Molly said.

      “We’ll have to make do.” Bess opened the hose nozzle, pointed it at her legs, and mud streamed off. “I hope this pond wins Suzie the neighborhood landscaping wars.”

      Suzie and her neighbor kept trying to outdo each other. At least the war helped business.

      “If the wars stop, we won’t have much work.” Molly picked at dried mud on her hands and held them under the hose. “We need the business. There’s nothing on next week’s schedule.”

      “It is almost Labor Day.”

      The work on King’s Gardens had slowed. Bess had transplanting and propagation work scheduled next week, but there weren’t any consults or installations on the calendar. The owner’s son, fresh out of college, had some consults, but not her.

      “It’s slower than it’s ever been,” Molly said.

      “I wish Cade would take the advertising suggestions I’ve made.” Bess knew she could run a landscaping business better than her boss.

      Molly sat up. “You know what I wish?”

      Bess raised her eyebrows. “Peace in the Middle East?”

      “No.” Molly gave Bess’s shoulder a shove, leaving a wet handprint. “I want to marry rich like your sister and have a house like Suzie Essex.”

      Bess looked at the sprawling estate home. Becoming attached to things like houses or people didn’t pay off. “Not me.”

      “I forgot.” Molly wrapped her black hair back into a ponytail. “Your family’s place is better than this.”

      “It’s not a home anymore.” Her family’s mansion sat in the center of Savannah’s historic district. Daddy’s scheming and dreaming had put them so far in debt, Mamma had to turn their home into a B and B or lose the house that