Home > Cinderella & the CEO (Kings of California #7)(15)

Cinderella & the CEO (Kings of California #7)(15)
Author: Maureen Child

So perhaps what he should do, he thought, was talk to the owners. See if they could find a way to work together in this. Not that he was looking to make friends. He still wasn’t interested in that, but there was no reason to have an enemy either.

It was early afternoon and he hadn’t even begun work yet. What better time to take a walk and meet the neighbors? Before he could talk himself out of it, he headed downstairs.

A few minutes later he was a part of the scene he’d been complaining about for two months. Here, the Christmas carols were impossible to ignore. With the summer sun slamming down onto him, he lost himself in the crowds and caught snatches of conversations as he went.

Kids whining, fathers grumbling, mothers soothing. He smiled in satisfaction that he wasn’t one of their number, until it hit him that he was the outsider here. Everyone else had a mission. They were there to enjoy each other and their day among the trees. He was alone. As always. The solitary man in an ocean of families and couples.

And for the first time in his life, Tanner didn’t care for it.

His smile faded as his gaze swept the area, taking in the tiny café with outdoor seating—not much more than a snack bar, really. The menu was simple. Hot dogs, hamburgers, chips and drinks. But there were plenty of people in line. Just as the gift shop bustled with customers. He shook his head as women left carrying huge bags filled with who knew what. At least that much in life was a certainty, he told himself. Give a woman the chance to shop and she was off and running. Though the women he was accustomed to preferred to shop where items came in pale blue boxes.

Looking around, Tanner could admit to himself that he was really out of his element here. Not only didn’t he normally do crowds, but the very idea of being in the thick of Christmas central was absolutely not him. Yet, here he stood and he had to admit that it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be. The rise and fall of the voices around him, blending with the inevitable Christmas music wasn’t hard to take.

He’d never been to a Christmas tree farm and seeing all the different types of trees spread out in front of him was…pretty. The scent of the pines filled every breath and even in the heat of summer, he got the draw. The appeal. Kids ran up and down the rows, playing in safety in the man-made forest, their squeals of laughter echoing in the air. Parents wandered, keeping an eye on the kids, while clearly enjoying themselves. Tanner wandered, too, wanting to take his time and make up his own mind about this operation before introducing himself to whoever was in charge.

He didn’t know a pine from a fir, but he could see that the place was well cared for. There were few weeds growing in the separating rows and a glance at the old farmhouse told him that upkeep was important to the Angel family. The Victorian had to be at least a hundred years old, but its sky blue paint and white trim was tidy. Flower pots sat on the porch railings and hung from hooks attached to the ceiling. Window panes gleamed in the sunlight and the door stood open as if welcoming visitors. He shook his head in wonder that the owners weren’t worried about someone walking into the house and stealing them blind. But apparently, small town life was a far cry from life in L.A.

“Can I help you with anything?”

Tanner turned to the younger man smiling at him. “No thanks. Just looking around.”

“And you’re welcome to. But if you do need something or if you find a tree you want to adopt, you just give a yell, someone will find you.”

“Right, thanks.” Adopt a tree? What kind of person was it who came up with something like that, anyway? He kept walking and didn’t stop again until a little girl of about six stepped out in front of him.

“Mister, can you lift me up?”

He glanced around, looking for the girl’s parents, but there were no other adults nearby. Wasn’t anyone watching the kid? He stared down into a pair of big brown eyes and asked, “Why?”

“So I can reach Lisa.”

Even more confusing. “Who’s Lisa?”

She laughed. “My tree, silly. Her name is Lisa. I got to name her cause Mommy said I could and Daddy said everything should have a name and she’s too pretty to just be ‘tree’.”

“You named your tree?” Tanner could hardy believe he was even having this conversation. But now, like it not, he was sucked in. The tiny girl was all shining innocence, with her pigtails, cuffed Levi’s and bright red sneakers.

“Yes, and now Lisa’s tag is all turned around,” she said, pointing at a wooden disk inside a plastic sleeve, hanging from one of the top branches of the nearest tree. “I don’t want somebody else to buy her because she’s my tree. My daddy said.”

The girl spoke so fast, her words tumbled into each other, but Tanner had gotten the gist of the problem. “I can fix the tag for you,” he offered, reaching for it.

“No!” She stopped him with that single word and when he looked again, she was shaking her head hard enough to send her twin pigtails flying. “I have to do it because she’s my tree and it’s my job. So can you lift me up?”

Tanner frowned when she held up her arms, clearly expecting him to do just as she had asked. He hadn’t been around kids since he was one, yet he didn’t see a way out of helping the girl without looking like a complete jerk. So sighing, he bent down, lifted the child and held her as carefully as he would have a ticking time bomb while she reached out with both hands to turn the plastic-covered tag around.

“See?” she asked, “that’s my tree’s name right there on the bottom. My name’s Ellie and I didn’t have room to put me on there, too. So just Lisa’s name is on it, but that’s okay, don’t you think?”

Sure enough, in uneven letters was the word Lisa painted in a sunshine yellow. There was also an uneven candy cane done in red and white and a lopsided star in blue. At the top of the tag, an adult had printed the words, Callendar family.

“Very nice,” Tanner said, looking at the girl in his arms. “Are you finished?”

“Almost,” she assured him, and straightened the tag again, turning it so that the artwork was facing out. Then she patted the pine needles and smoothed her little hand right up to the top. “That’s where our angel will go at Christmas time. Mommy says it will be a perfect fit, too. Lisa’s gonna look so pretty in our house.”

“I’m sure she will,” he said, shooting a worried glance at the surrounding area, positive that the girl’s parents would show up any second and he’d be accused of trying to kidnap the girl or something.

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