Page 48 of Deck the Hauls

But we were still standing there, looking at each other. Did she feel a crackle of electricity between us too?

“Emily!”

I jumped, and turned to see Ashley accompanied by a woman carrying a large camera.

Heat burned my face. Shit. Had they just witnessed me ogling at Dana, leaning in too close?

Ashley introduced the photographer without batting an eyelash and my face returned to its usual temperature.

It appeared I hadn’t outed myself to the media after all.

Thank god. I had enough going on without adding that to the mix.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

DANA

I sipped a chamomile tea as I stood behind the trestle table, enjoying the warmth of the mug in my hands. The film crew was putting the final touches on the lighting they’d set up on the grass in front of the Christmas market.

“Is it okay if we attach this here?” A crew member held up some greenery, pointing at the floral arch Olivia had set up over her stall to hold the wreaths she was selling.

“No problem,” Olivia said, as she attached some sprigs of fir to a circular wire frame.

Rory Goldsworthy, the resident town grump, appeared in front of me, his shock of white hair partially covered by a brown woolen beanie, and I hastily put down my cup.

“I’d like to order a seven-foot Christmas tree,” he said, then glared at the film crew. “I can’t wait until they leave. They’re a nuisance. Keep popping up wherever I go and getting in the way.”

I chuckled. Rory sounded like me two weeks ago.

“They’re finishing up on Wednesday,” I said, an ache tugging at my heart.

Only a few more days until Emily leaves.

“When would you like it delivered?”

Rory studied the delivery options set out on a sign standing on the table.

“First week in December. Thanks, Dana.” Rory turned and stomped away.

I straightened the tablecloth. Two hours down, another four to go. At least I had my friends for company—Olivia on one side, and George and Hannah on my other. Hannah was currently head down, furiously scribbling on a note pad, while George restocked the bags of gingerbread cookies on their table. I didn’t usually read a lot of fiction, but I always read Hannah’s books and was looking forward to the next installment in her fantasy series. By the looks of it, it was coming along well.

I glanced back at the crew. When would the cast arrive? Emily would be surprised to see me. I’d thought I wouldn’t see her until the wrap party on Wednesday, but Ronnie who’d been scheduled to work tonight had called in sick and Roz had called in a favor. I took a sip of water.

I was still surprised Emily had suggested keeping in contact after she left. I hated the idea of not seeing her again. But what if I kept in contact with her, and my attraction didn’t fade away? If we hung out as friends, even occasionally, would my feelings grow?

Two women stopped at Olivia’s table, admiring her handiwork.

“This one would look amazing on your door, Mom,” one of the women, who looked like she was in her late twenties, exclaimed as she inspected a large wreath covered in red berries.

“It’s gorgeous,” the older woman said, beaming. “Would it be possible if we paid now, but picked it up on our way out?”

“Of course,” Olivia said, standing from her chair.

Mom and I used to pick out a Christmas tree together at the local tree lot and she’d usually pick up a wreath there as well.

I’d finally called her this morning and told her I wouldn’t be coming home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. The hurt in her voice had been unmistakable, although she assured me they understood. Perhaps we’d go to the tree lot together again, just not this year. I’d suggested we meet up for a coffee soon.

A door slammed. I looked up to see Emily, Austin and a few other cast and crew exiting a shuttle van parked next to the film trailers.