Christmas at Starlight (Snowy Ridge: A Love at Starlight Novella, Book 0.5) Read online

  Christmas at Starlight

  Snowy Ridge

  Love at Starlight Series, Book 0.5

  Kris Jett

  Christmas at Starlight

  Snowy Ridge: A Love at Starlight Novella, Book 0.5

  By Kris Jett

  Copyright 2017 by Kris Jett

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Photography from Depositphotos.com

  www.AuthorKrisJett.com

  WELCOME TO STARLIGHT

  A family-owned pub in the picturesque snowmobiling town of Snowy Ridge, Wisconsin. The weather may be cold outside, but things are sizzling indoors.

  Get a taste of the new small-town romance series with this prequel novella, Christmas at Starlight. Then, check out the rest of the series:

  Christmas at Starlight – Amber & Nick (Snowy Ridge: A Love at Starlight Novella)

  Coming Home – Jessie & Cade (Snowy Ridge: Love at Starlight, Book 1)

  Taking Chances – Wynn & Bryce (Snowy Ridge: Love at Starlight, Book 2)

  Finding Me – Luci & Evan (Snowy Ridge: Love at Starlight, Book 3)

  Chapter One

  “We’re just about there,” the Uber driver called out over his shoulder. He kept his eyes fixed on the road as the car’s windshield wipers lazily flapped back and forth, swatting at the snow.

  “Thanks.” Amber Adams replied. She turned her focus to the back passenger window and the snowflakes gently falling on it. Each one looked so tiny and unique. She reached out with her index finger and touched one that looked like it had a hundred spikes shooting from its center.

  Amber sighed. She wasn’t ready to see her parents. The last time they had all been face-to-face was move-in day at the prestigious Illinois University back in August. It was her first day in college and Amber was scared to death. She was two months shy of her nineteenth birthday and had never lived away from her parents before. Not that they were the most emotionally involved parents or anything but at least they were there. They were in charge. But in school it was just her and a stranger she’d only just met. Her roommate’s name was Candace, Candy for short. When Candy’s parents dropped her off her father practically had to get her mother a wheelchair to take her out of the room. She was sobbing uncontrollably at the thought of leaving her baby there. But not Amber’s parents. Her mother watched the scene with a look on her face like she’d just eaten a bad piece of fish. And her father looked put out at how long the whole move-in process was taking and kept checking his phone.

  Amber’s mom thought people who showed their emotions were weak. And the Adams were anything but weak. Both of her parents were high-powered corporate attorneys and used to being able to argue until they got their way. And it worked for them. Both were very successful. They expected nothing less of Amber. She was to graduate from Illinois University and then attend law school. It wasn’t something that was discussed; it just was. The Adams family never discussed anything, really. Her mom e-mailed her two or three times a week to check-in. Mostly to get a grade report and see if Amber needed anything sent to school. And her dad didn’t even do that. Amber spoke more often with Maria, her nanny since she was small, than she spoke with either of her parents. So when she got the e-mail from her mom saying that they would be spending her Christmas break at a cabin in Snowy Ridge, Wisconsin, just the three of them, Amber was shocked. They were most definitely not the cozy winter cabin type. They were the educational tour of Italy or guided safari in Africa type. Truthfully, Amber would have preferred to just stay home in their Chicago high-rise apartment, in her room, with all of her things, and her childhood friends within walking distance. A cabin at Christmas seemed sort of Hallmark Channel movie-ish. The exact kind of stuff her mother loathed.

  The Adams weren’t big on Christmas. For one, her parents were always working. People didn’t stop needing legal work just because it was Christmas. Holidays were fairly sterile in their home. And her dad wasn’t handy so he wasn’t the type to drag in a Christmas tree or put up lights. Not to mention her mom’s head would explode if a pine needle would have ever dared to fall off said nonexistent tree and on to her pristine marble. She didn’t believe in baking Christmas cookies or having family over for a big meal. Not that the Adams had much family anyway. Her father was an only child and her mother had one brother she hadn’t spoken to in over ten years. And exchanging Christmas presents was never like the scenarios you saw on those cozy family holiday movies. There was no sitting around, tossing back an egg nog while the kids ripped through their presents. Amber always got exactly one present, generally a nice piece of jewelry, wrapped in a pretty package with a bow, and set on the table next to her breakfast plate. She would open her gift Christmas morning while her parents looked on with tight smiles and feign delight at whatever it was. And then that was it. Christmas Day was over. No drawn-out, involved celebrations for her family.

  Amber’s best friend since elementary school, Livvie, once described Amber’s house perfectly. Nervous. As in, you were always on edge hanging out there. Afraid to knock something over, make too much noise, or do anything else that would disturb the carefully kept order. Amber preferred to spend time at her friends’ homes where they did seem more like television families with their messy entryways, inside jokes, and carb-laden snacks.

  The driver pulled onto Snowy Ridge’s Main Street, which was bustling with cute shops and restaurants. People strolled in and out of store fronts, holding hands and swinging full shopping bags. The street faced a picturesque town square. It was like the front of a Christmas card. The kind her parents left mixed in with the bills in December instead of displaying perhaps on a string hung across the kitchen or propped up on the piano. Her dad wasn’t a fan of the Christmas card. He said it was so fake and phony how people you wouldn’t otherwise speak to all year long suddenly wanted to send you holiday greetings. And her mother detested Christmas letters. Outright senseless bragging, she called it. She said if she wanted to see overinflated egotistical blowhards go on and on about themselves and their children she’d have joined Facebook. Christmas letters in our house went straight into the trash. Although Amber sometimes dug them out and read them.

  Amber gazed at the town square. Although it was getting dark there were still children running around, playing in the snow, while their parents looked on laughing. There was a grand wooden gazebo in its center, lined with white twinkle lights and all the trees throughout the square were also lit with twinkle lights. In fact, all the small shops and eateries lining Main were decked in lights as well. This town certainly had a thing for them. Which Amber decided was really nice. She’d personally always loved the lights but her parents thought they were a hassle. Amber supposed she could understand that. They did seem like a hassle to put up and take down each holiday season but if it were up to her, she would hope to find them a sort of happy hassle. They certainly were pretty to look at.

  The driver turned rig
ht just a block past the square, and pulled up the driveway to an adorable wood cabin with smoke pillowing out of the fireplace. The snow-covered bushes and trees were dotted with colorful holiday lights and on the left of the front door was a big snowman with a red mittened hand holding a sign that said Happy Holidays. It was like a gingerbread house brought to life. Was this really where they were staying for Christmas break? A jolt of excitement zipped through Amber as she realized she’d be able to easily walk and explore the town.

  Amber thanked her driver and pushed out of the car. She dragged her stuffed suitcase up the icy walk to the front door and paused. She lifted her gaze skyward and let the snowflakes hit her face, making tiny cool kisses on her cheeks. She said a silent prayer: Please God, or Goddess, or Mother Nature or anyone who can hear me, give me the power to tell my parents the truth this break. And then she rung the bell.

  Chapter Two

  Nick Jones dried his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder and then pulled his phone out of his back pocket and checked the time. 1:45p.m. Damn. Time seemed to be moving slower today. Or maybe he was moving faster. He had been up late the night before finishing his economics project and the double espresso he downed this morning was keeping him buzzed. He peered out of the kitchen door and saw that there was just one small group of women lingering over their coffees spiked with Bailey’s Irish Cream. He was just about done washing the bulk of the lunch dishes and was hoping to cut out of work early today. He had his final finance paper due tomorrow and he hadn’t even started it. Nothing like waiting until the last minute.

  Nick moved from Duluth, Minnesota, to Snowy Ridge three years ago for school. He was accepted into several universities but a small private one here had given him a full-ride scholarship. With his mom being sick and a strained relationship with his dad, Nick knew he was on his own for paying for tuition so of course he took the college up on their generous offer. He loved the area and was an avid snowmobiler so moving to Snowy Ridge, a big winter snowmobiling vacation destination, seemed to make sense. He was lonely sometimes and often felt like he was missing something, or someone, in his life but he had school and work and it seemed like enough for now.

  When he wasn’t in class, Nick worked at the Starlight Pub. His co-workers were all friendly and the work was easy enough. He bussed tables and washed dishes. The hours were flexible with his college course schedule too which made it the ideal job for now. The owners were pretty laid back and cool. They let him change his schedule whenever he needed. The one owner was only five years older than Nick and was always telling him school came first, do what he needed to do to get it done. He often wondered if she felt like she was missing out by not going to college. But she had her own pub so maybe she didn’t need a degree.

  Nick grabbed the big beige tub off the shelf and pushed through the swinging doors out of the kitchen and into the dining area of the pub. He went to work bussing the recently departed table the trio of women had been at and watched the snow falling just outside the picture window, overlooking the town square. It hadn’t stopped snowing since yesterday, which he knew would make their customers happy. Snowy Ridge was a big snowmobiling town and people flocked here in the winter to ride their awesome trails. Business always picked up now around the holidays when most people had time off. Starlight had their regular clientele too of course: townspeople that had lived here for years and stopped in for a post-work drink or Friday night dinner. But the majority of their customers were rotating vacationers, in for a week-long adventure in the snow. They catered to them with a parking lot for both cars and a side lot where riders could drive right up in their snowmobiles and park for a quick drink or bite to eat. It made for a lot of mopping up of snow and slush for the Starlight staff but it also made their pub a hot spot for all of the snowmobiling crowd.

  Nick ran his hand through his hair and turned toward the fireplace. He was startled to see someone was sitting there. In a chair facing the fireplace, with her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, sat a pretty young girl, maybe nineteen or twenty, with long dark hair and a bright red coat. Her coat looked festive and happy but she didn’t. She was sitting alone and looked deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed like something was bothering her. Nick had assumed the last of the customers had gone; this was usually when they had a bit of a lull in the day, and he hadn’t noticed her slip in. But she must have been here awhile since she was already served. He watched her watching the fire for a moment. He’d never seen her in there before so he assumed she was a vacationer. Probably just in to ride the trails for the week. Though her attire suggested it was more for fashion and not to enjoy the snow. It was also bizarre that she was in the pub in the middle of the day, alone like this. Usually vacationers were a loud boisterous group: families with kids, guys on a bachelor’s trip, that sort of kind. Not attractive young women drinking cocoa alone in front of the fire.

  He watched her for a beat longer and then quickly finished bussing the table. He went in back and set to work on the dishes. He had that paper to write and the sooner he finished up in here the more time he’d have to work on it.

  The next afternoon Nick was washing dishes again in the kitchen and Jessie Foster, one of the owners, was sitting on a stool, swinging her legs.

  “Tell me, do you sit around every morning in class pondering the words of Socrates and Aristotle? Come on, let me live vicariously through you.”

  Nick chuckled. “Not exactly. I’m taking Finance, Math, Economics, and an American Literature class. No philosophers.”

  “Darn. That Socrates seemed so wise for so long ago. He’s from like, B.C. right? And the stuff he said is still so relevant. At least from the Facebook memes I’ve read.” Jessie examined her nails. They were painted a pale blue.

  “You should go back to school if you want, Jessie,” Nick encouraged. “You can take a Philosophy class and talk about this stuff with others who are into it.”

  She frowned. “Pssh, who has the time?” she said with a toss of her hand.

  It was true; they ran Starlight on a tight crew. Jessie and her mom, a handful of waitresses and waiters, a couple of bartenders, a cook, an assistant, and one dishwasher. Him.

  Linda, one of the waitresses, popped her head into the kitchen. “Heya Ralph, can you throw me together a ham and cheese to go, chips on the side?”

  “Sure thing,” Ralph, their cook, replied and set to work.

  “Danny’s here?” Jessie asked and Linda nodded. Jessie popped off the stool. “Be right back, I’ve been wanting to ask him a favor.” Jessie left the kitchen and Nick finished stacking the glasses in the dying rack. He grabbed the tub and followed Jessie out into the dining area to bus tables. Sure enough Danny was at the bar, talking to Jessie and waiting for his food.

  He waved at Nick. “Hey there, stranger. Coming in soon?”

  “Sure thing, Danny,” Nick said. “I’ll be by for a show soon. Just wrapping up my trimester and then I’m on holiday break.”

  “I’ll look forward to seeing you,” he said. Danny ran the Bijou, an old-fashioned movie theater also located on Main Street. It was a popular historical site in town and a great place to spend a weekend afternoon, even though it only ever showed one film at a time and sometimes didn’t change out for several weeks. Danny was a fixture there in his wine-colored velvet vest and bow tie. Come to think of it, Nick couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen Danny out around town wearing anything other than that outfit. He either had a dozen of the same outfit or he kept that one in pristine condition. Danny did it all: he sat in the glass booth at the front of the theater selling the tickets, he scooped the popcorn and sold the candy and drinks, and he dimmed the lights and started the shows. If he ever felt ill he just closed the theater until he was feeling up to running it again. The whole town loved the cinema and they loved Danny. But he was right; Nick hadn’t been in there for a while. He didn’t like going to see movies on his own and he hadn’t been on a date in at least six months. Possibly even longer. He ha
dn’t been keeping track. And work and school were keeping him busy. At least that is what he told himself.

  Nick saw Jessie retrieve Danny’s order and hand him his bag of food. Starlight wasn’t a take-out kind of place but they made an exception for Danny. He always needed to get back to the theater and couldn’t sit around in the pub too long for a meal.

  Nick set to bussing the tables and was surprised to notice the girl from yesterday was back. She was sitting in the same spot in front of the fireplace and, once again, drinking a hot chocolate. And she didn’t look any happier than she did yesterday.

  Nick wasn’t generally the nosey type but his curiosity was piqued. Why was she hanging out alone at the pub again? Most people in town who just wanted a hot chocolate would hit MoonBeans down the street. MoonBeans was the only coffee shop in town and they were famous for their elaborate espresso drinks and decadent desserts. Also their hot chocolate. Starlight had great hot chocolate too but not many would think to come there first for a hot drink with MoonBeans nearby. Unless they wanted it spiked of course. Starlight made a mean Peppermint Patty with a shot of Peppermint Schnapps. But this girl didn’t look old enough to drink, he was fairly sure. Nick slowly bussed a table and watched as Jessie headed back into the kitchen. He briefly hesitated and chewed on his bottom lip and then an idea came to him. He went back to the kitchen and a moment later returned with a plate holding a big yellow frosted star-shaped Christmas cookie. He walked over to the girl and set the plate down in front of her.

  She looked up, startled. “Oh, I didn’t order a cookie.”