The Mills & Boon Christmas Wishes Collection. Maisey Yates

laughed.

      “I’ll mind my potatoes then!” I trilled in my best attempt at a flapper accent, and sashayed out. We were on track! This party was going to propel guests back to the twenties, and who didn’t want to spend some time in the jazz era?

      We had a few hours until the guests were arriving so I went to find Amory and check she was OK after her spat with poor Micah, who was still confused over how he’d upset her. It was only that Amory had fallen hard for her canine progeny, and her protectiveness for Scotty knew no bounds.

      Taking the steps two at a time, I found Amory talking earnestly to Isla halfway up the stairs about how to apply eyeshadow for the smoky-eye effect.

      “We’re all set, pretty much,” I said.

      “Why don’t we get ready together and I can show Isla how it’s done?” said Amory when I caught up.

      “Let’s! The jazz band is arriving in an hour, and we’ve got to help Aunt Bessie set up too. So let’s get our skates on.”

      I let them go ahead and watched them giggle like schoolgirls as they ran up the rest of the stairs, Scotty going at double speed to catch them on his little legs. I couldn’t wait to transform myself into a flapper.

      After a quick shower, I joined the girls in Amory’s suite.

      “Oh my God, Isla, you look like Clara Bow herself!” She was draped in pearls and had an exotic and intricate feathery headpiece attached, with her hair curled and tucked up. Amory had applied her makeup perfectly – smoky eyes, ruby-red lips.

      “Thanks, Clio! I feel like I’ve dunked my head into wet cement, but the mirror certainly says otherwise.”

      I laughed, remembering Isla rarely wore makeup and was usually more comfortable wearing work clothes than sequined dresses and heels.

      Amory clucked her tongue. “I’m so proud,” she joked, and began getting herself ready, including applying false lashes encrusted with diamantes that made her look every inch a twenties movie starlet.

      An hour and a bit later we sparkled and shimmied as we walked downstairs, in a mixture of sequins, beads and pearls, on a cloud of sultry perfume. They sure knew how to dress to impress back in the jazz era.

      Micah was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and held out a hand to Isla, kissing her sweetly on the cheek and murmuring in her ear. Cruz was still in the kitchen so Amory went to show off her Charleston moves to him there. I was about to head out on my pre-party check, but gasped when I saw Kai standing off to the side, a thumb looped in the pocket of his three-piece suit. The wavy-haired athlete had vanished and been replaced with a suave and sophisticated specimen of a man. Was it hot in here? His blue eyes shone appreciatively as he gave me a slow once-over.

      “It’s clear to me now that you were born in the wrong era, Clio…”

      “Likewise, mister.” We stared into each other’s eyes and I wondered why he’d been avoiding me. I wanted to ask him, but Aunt Bessie walked in, arms laden with boxes. Besides, it smacked of desperation, didn’t it? Better to pretend all was well, and save my pride.

      “There you are, you glamourpuss. Can you take this please?” Aunt Bessie drawled.

      Kai, ever the gentleman, stepped forward. “Here, let me take those.”

      She gave him a saucy eyebrow waggle. “If I was younger…”

      “Aunt Bessie!” I said, faux-shocked. She was a flirt from way back when.

      “What? He looks good enough to eat.”

      Laughter burbled from me. “Let’s get you set up.”

      From the boxes Aunt Bessie unloaded a range of donuts, burnished gold and black to suit the theme.

      “They’re so pretty, Aunt Bessie!” I said, ogling a tray of mini gold-glitter donuts.

      “I’ve got the most amazing cake pops too, done with edible black lacquer, so shiny you can see yourself in them.”

      We went briskly back to work, setting up her dessert table. Before I knew it, cars were crunching the gravel and our first guests arrived, drawing excited squeals from us all. Amory and I would usually be hosting a party near Times Square, waiting for the ball drop, but here we were, making Cedarwood Lodge the place to be. Even though we were technically working, it felt like a fairy tale come true to be sashaying around the lodge in a flapper dress.

      Taking a moment, I watched as everyone got into position. We were getting more organized, my team, like a finely tuned machine, and I beamed with pride.

      “Well, everyone. Let’s go welcome our guests to the jazz age and show them one hell of a party!” Amory whooped and we swarmed to the entrance.

      Amory welcomed guests, checking them off the guest list, while Micah showed them the way and Isla handed them a glass of champagne as they floated past.

      Men wore dapper suits and women were dressed flamboyantly. I was impressed people had made such an effort, as it wasn’t always the case – but who didn’t like the glitz and glamour of another era? The romance, the poetry, the shunning of rules and regulations in the twenties. It was impossible not to smile at the women speaking huskily, or throwing their heads back, laughing hard, as if they were truly transported to another time.

      When Vinnie arrived we fussed and fawned over him and his guest of honor, Mr Whittaker. As soon as they even thought about another drink their champagne flutes were refilled. When one of them fumbled with a napkin, another was pressed into his hand. When I sailed past them for the third time, checking everything was going well, both of them were smiling as Amory regaled them with a hilarious story.

      The jazz band played the Charleston, and people danced and kicked up their heels. They tangoed and foxtrotted, only stopping to guzzle champagne as though it was water. Even the most sedate of guests was inspired to join the others on the dance floor. The tap of high heels made me smile; this was what I wanted for the lodge – fun, frivolity, dancing!

      With the party in full swing, the guests’ sunny faces and raucous laughter high in the air, I signaled to the girls that it was time to take a breather – safe in the knowledge everything was on track, the skill-hire staff were working well, and everyone was having fun. Tim was wooing his clients and gave me a thumbs-up whenever I dashed past him. Maybe he’d hire Cedarwood every year for parties. The possibilities were endless!

      Amory and Isla huddled by a wall, sneaking their first glass of champagne and gossiping about the guests – who had the prettiest dress, and who danced like no one was watching.

      “Look how happy they are,” Amory said. “This is one of the best parties we’ve ever done, Clio, and we’ve done some truly spectacular ones.”

      “I think so too,” I said, grinning as I sent up a silent thank you to F Scott Fitzgerald and his wife, Zelda, for making the jazz era so fashionable and so much fun to recreate.

      Isla sipped her champagne and, as she craned her neck back to sip, a slim necklace she was wearing caught the light. I hadn’t noticed it when we were getting ready. It was truly beautiful, a delicate constellation of stars, shimmering and twinkling under the lights.

      “What’s the symbolism of your necklace, Isla?” I asked. “It’s gorgeous! Is it to do with the stars Micah named after you?”

      She flushed deep scarlet, bringing out the freckles on her nose. “Umm, yeah. We, ah…” She frantically waved Micah over, who was restocking the champagne behind the bar. When he got to her, they clutched hands, and he searched her face for clues. It must have dawned on him because he nodded. “We were going to wait until the party was finished before we asked you, but…”

      “Ask me?” Isla darted a nervous glance up at Micah, and he grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Oh my God, ask me what?” I had a feeling I knew what it was and goose bumps broke out over my skin in anticipation.

      “So, ah…