Her Mistletoe Magic. Kristine Rolofson

you say.” She eyed him speculatively. “Wait till Mom hears about this. She’ll think Christmas came early.”

      “Mom doesn’t have to know anything.”

      “What? Are you kidding? Brian’s going over there to decorate cookies again this afternoon. You think he’s not going to tell his grandma that Uncle Nico had a friend over? A pretty female friend with a boot on her foot, just like the one that Elizabeth in Mrs. Rayak’s class had last year when she fell off the ski lift?”

      “I could pay him. What’s the going rate for keeping his mouth shut?”

      Marie shrugged. “He’s not motivated by money. Unfortunately. I offered him five dollars not to tell his father that I said three very bad words when that guy backed into me last week.”

      “Yeah? What happened?”

      “Oh, his insurance company will pay for it. There was a witness.”

      “I meant with Brian.” Nico liked the kid. For a nine-year-old, he pretty much had it together. He managed to tiptoe through the minefield of having an older sister and a younger one quite well. His ability to stay calm and detached in the midst of female drama made him more like his father than the Vitelli side of his family.

      “He told me he had heard worse at school and to be cool.”

      “You are cool.”

      “I am,” Marie said. “I’m forty-two and I’m definitely cool. Now, let’s talk about you.”

      “I’m going to ask her to dinner Thursday.”

      “That’s Christmas Eve.”

      “I know.”

      “That’s big.”

      “I’m aware of that. I hope the family doesn’t scare her off.”

      “Nico, we’ll be on our best behavior.” She frowned. “I mean, we’ll do our best. Maybe ‘best behavior’ is a little optimistic. But for you to bring a woman to Christmas Eve? This is really big. How long have you known her?”

      “Since I started work here. I see her almost every day at the lodge.” And I’ve been half in love with her since the first minute I saw her.

      Nico thought it wise not to say that aloud.

      “She’s why you wouldn’t let us fix you up. How long have you been, uh, dating her?”

      “I’ve been, uh, dating her since last night.” He enjoyed the look of surprise on his sister’s face. “I told you, she fell in the kitchen at work and hurt her ankle. I brought her home to help her out. To take care of her.”

      “And now we’re back where we started,” his sister said. “You’ve got it bad.”

      “I do,” Nico admitted. “But it’s not mutual. Yet.”

      “It will be,” Marie assured him, giving him a quick hug. “Just be your charming self. And ply her with chocolate. Women like that.”

      “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

      “You’ve never failed at anything you set out to do.” She frowned. “Except when you tried out for football. That was pretty much a disaster.”

      “I’ve put on some muscle since then.” But he would never be able to throw a ball fifty yards and actually hit a target.

      “Don’t be too charming,” Marie warned. “That California stuff was ridiculous.” She gave him another hug. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

      “Me, too.” He waved them off, watched Al lift his leg on his favorite holly bush and then turned back to the house.

      He would romance Grace with food and attention. She was a very private person, but she’d let down her guard a little last night.

      And she’d smiled at him when he’d brought her coffee.

      That was a promising start to the day.

      THE FUTURE BRIDE was the happiest person in the Wildwood event room, but Grace was the most pampered. She sat at a table close to the fireplace, her legs resting on the seat of another chair, her narrow skirt tucked primly over her knees. On one foot she wore a golden tan suede knee-high boot. On the other was the decidedly unfashionable walking boot, with one of Nico’s white athletic socks underneath it to keep her toes warm.

      Nico Vitelli hovered over her, something that did not go unnoticed by the staff attending the Christmas brunch. Between Nico’s interesting behavior and the news of Noelle’s wedding, there was plenty for the employees of the lodge to discuss over coffee and plates piled high with food. Much to everyone’s delight, Nico had arranged a sumptuous buffet. Grace made sure the presents were piled underneath the Christmas tree and a member of the housekeeping staff had a fire burning in the fireplace.

      Those who were working the morning shift took time out to have a cup of coffee and a bite of food, wish everyone a merry Christmas and open their gifts. Those on later shifts stayed longer to visit. Because the lodge was too busy in December to have a big Christmas party, the owners held an enormous outdoor party in June for the staff and their families. Grace had organized the Secret Santa brunch when she was hired at the lodge and it had quickly become a holiday tradition.

      Thanks to Grace, the background music was a rousing New Orleans Christmas compilation. Patsy had agreed to hold off on Bing Crosby until after one o’clock, but only because Grace was on crutches and therefore an object of pity.

      Patsy was bursting with questions, so the second Nico returned to the kitchen, she leaned closer. “Okay, tell me everything. What’s his house like? It’s the big white one about half a mile down the street, right? With the big porch?”

      “I didn’t notice the porch, but the house is old and big and gorgeous.” She took a bite of a cinnamon roll. Just one bite wouldn’t hurt, would it?

      “And where did you sleep? Did he make you dinner?”

      “I slept in the guest room. He bought me candy. And made me breakfast. And served me coffee in bed.” She didn’t want to admit she’d enjoyed every minute. She didn’t want her friend to think she was crushing on the Hollywood chef. “By the way, why did you pack the granny gown instead of my pajamas?”

      “In case you were in a cast. Can’t get pants on over a cast, you know.”

      “I never thought of that.”

      “You’ve never had a kid with a broken leg. I looked for something silk, with lace, but all you had were jogging pants and T-shirts.”

      “I like silk and lace,” Grace sputtered. “But it’s winter. Silk and lace are stored with my summer things.”

      Patsy sighed. “Of course they are.”

      “How many calories do you think there are in one of these?” She held up a star-shaped sugar cookie frosted with pink-and-yellow icing.

      “Zero. It’s Christmas. Calories don’t count. Were you surprised when you got Julie Barrett’s phone call?”

      “I was thrilled.” Grace smiled. “It was absolutely perfect.”

      “This is a nice turn of events.” Patsy took a bite of a star-shaped cookie. “Noelle deserves something good.”

      “It’s going to be fun to put this together. This morning I showed her everything I had planned and she was thrilled with it all. She said she felt like she’d won the lottery. I left a message for Julie to tell her how kind that was.” Grace wriggled in her seat, trying to ease a cramp in her calf.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “The darn thing hurts more than I thought