Mistletoe and Wine

A small town contemporary Christmas romance

The holiday decorations are up but business is down. Is it really the most wonderful time of the year?

Allyson Cramer is determined to keep The Ramblin’ Rose afloat. If the bar closes, her employees will lose their jobs, and she’ll default on her loan. Despite her hard work, the situation becomes critical when the new manager of the pool hall lures her best customers away. Adding insult to injury, Max drops in one day to be “neighborly,” bearing gifts and inviting her to lunch. The last thing she wants is to humor a competitor, but this handsome, gregarious man piques her curiosity. Will she gain the secret to his success or lose her heart to him instead?

Ho-ho-ho, Max Reardon needs a change of scenery—and fast.

His reputation and his job are destroyed when his boss’ drunken wife, Sybil, brazenly makes a pass at him in public and wants to become friends with benefits. Disgusted, Max retreats to West Loon Bay to spend the holidays managing his uncle’s pool hall and to contemplate his future. He doesn’t plan to stay. The trouble is, the moment he meets Allyson, he’s drawn to her. They shared a kiss under the mistletoe and now he can’t stop thinking about her. Unfortunately, he soon learns that Sybil won’t stop thinking about him. And that’s when his problems really begin.

Get your copy today! You’ll fall in love with the people of West Loon Bay.

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Chapter One

November 1^st

West Loon Bay, Minnesota - Population 397

Multi-colored twinkle lights, pine garland twisted with scarlet berry clusters, and red velvet bows lined the large front windows of the Ramblin’ Rose bar. A seven-foot tree laden with brightly colored ornaments and strings of glowing lights hugged one corner of the dance floor while Vince Gill’s angelic voice filled the air with a classic Christmas song.

The warmth and nostalgia of the season should have filled her with joy, but instead, Allyson Cramer struggled to get into the holiday mood. She sighed, preoccupied with the dismal state of the bar’s finances as she taped a string of mini-Christmas lights to the shelving on the wall behind the bar.

Across the room, Ashton Wyatt pinned a collage of handmade paper snowflakes frosted with white glitter on the wall. “I don’t know why we’re bothering to decorate,” she complained in a gloomy voice as she pivoted away from the decorations and twisted her silky brown hair into a thick ponytail. Ashton and her younger sister, Grace, were Allyson’s cousins and co-owners of the bar. “If things keep going the way they are,” Ashton said, “we probably won’t even be in business by Christmas.”

“It’s not our fault business is down,” Allyson argued as she let go of the lights and spun around. The tape suddenly gave way, and the lights fell to the floor. She stared in annoyance at the heap of green wire at her feet. “Tourist season is over. People have pulled in their docks and locked their cabins until next summer.”

West Loon Bay resided on the south shore of Lake Tremolo, a large body of water encircled by fifty miles of shoreline and thick forests. Ranking in the top five percent of the largest lakes in Minnesota, it was famous for its superb walleye population, modern boat facilities, and beautiful resorts.

“We weren’t slow in November last year,” Ashton persisted. She turned to her sister. “Were we, Grace?”

Grace, the youngest of the trio, flipped her long, thick braid of dark hair over her shoulder as she placed a small silk poinsettia plant next to the cinnamon-scented candle on each table. She wore skinny jeans, and a black T-shirt embellished with a red metallic rose, their company uniform. “No,” she said quietly, “but we had just opened for business and people were curious.”

Wiping her hands on her apron, Grace approached the bar. “What are we going to do, Allyson? If things don’t get better, we’ll have to close. Our employees will all be out of a job.” She grimaced, her large brown eyes reflecting worry. “What a terrible thing to do to them just before Christmas!”

“I don’t know,” Allyson replied, reaching down to scoop up the lights, “but whatever we decide, we need to get going on it immediately.”

“Mom heard some gossip at Trudi’s beauty salon when she was getting her hair done that Uncle Wally might be closing down the pool hall for a couple of months,” Ashton announced as she slid onto a bar stool. “His knees are getting so bad he can barely walk. Mom says he has to go to a rehab facility for a couple of months after he gets the first one replaced so the pool hall may be closed until he comes home. We could get some new business from the closure, at least for a while.”

Grace made a face, demonstrating her displeasure at the prospect of luring customers from Uncle Wally’s billiard room. “E-w-w-w. That place is gross. All the guys who hang out there are too. Uncle Wally lets them swear, make sexist jokes, and belch out loud at both ends!”

Ashton snickered at Grace’s cringe-worthy word picture. “Now you know why the worst guys in town like that place so much. They can be themselves, and no one cares!”

Uncle Wally wasn’t the girls’ uncle. He wasn’t related to anyone in town, for that matter, but everyone called him that, just the same. Decades ago, he’d come to West Loon Bay to teach high school geography and coach the football team. After his wife died of cancer, he retired from teaching, sold his farm, and bought the pool hall. His rotund belly and neatly trimmed beard made him the perfect Santa at Christmastime. He never had kids of his own, but if he encountered children from his former students, he always dug into his pockets for coins to give them. Over time, the name “Uncle Wally” became his identity.

“Business isn’t as bad as it seems,” Allyson said, desperate to convince not only the Wyatt sisters but herself as well. “Our income is enough to keep us afloat for now if nothing else goes wrong. It’s not our fault that we’ve had so many equipment breakdowns this year.”

So far, the water heater had needed replacement, the walk-in cooler required extensive repairs when it stopped cooling, spoiling all the food stored in it, and they also had to buy a new ice maker. They’d covered the costs, but the expenses had nearly depleted their bank account. Thank goodness they had saved last year’s holiday decorations to use again this year.

“The three of us work our tails off and yet after we cover the payroll for our employees, we’re only making minimum wage,” Ashton said, frowning as she leaned her elbows on the bar. “I’m sick of working for peanuts.”

Allyson dropped the light string in a pile on the counter, giving up on it for now. Instead, she scooped ice into a frosted mug, grabbed the soda gun, and filled the mug with Coke, Ashton’s favorite drink. “We’ve had some setbacks, but we’ll get there.” She put a straw in the mug and shoved the fizzy concoction toward Ashton, desperate to convince not only the Wyatt sisters that they would prevail, but herself as well. “With the holidays coming up, we’ll draw downtown shoppers with our lunch and dinner specials and entice people to stop in on their way home from work with cheap happy hour appetizers. More customers will result in more tips so that will supplement our pay.”

“Well, we must do something, and fast,” Ashton argued as she twirled the straw in her drink. “If things don’t get better soon, I’ll have to start looking for a new job. You guys will too.”

Allyson exchanged horrified glances with Grace.

Grace turned to her sister. “You’re giving up already? What happened to the agreement we made to work together to make this place a success?”

Stunned by Ashton’s announcement, Allyson placed her palms on the edge of the bar to steady herself. “What about the startup loan we got from Aunt Rose? How will we pay her back if we simply give up and shut the place down? She put her heart and soul into the Ramblin’ Rose for twenty-five years. Now it’s our turn. We can’t quit.”

The startup loan had meant a lot to Allyson. Her mother, Ruth, and Aunt Rose were twin sisters and she’d always been Rose’s favorite niece. She couldn’t let her aunt down by defaulting.

Ashton stared at her Coke, her cheeks flushing with anger at finding herself outnumbered by her sister and her cousin. “It’s better than going down with the ship.”

“Oh, so now you’re comparing The Ramblin’ Rose to the Titanic?” Incensed, Allyson slapped a bar towel on the counter. “That’s not being very supportive!”

“Hey!” Ashton sat back and folded her arms. “At least I’m being realistic!”

“Hang on, you guys.” Grace raised her palms in a peacemaking gesture. “Stop arguing, okay? We need to increase revenue, but we’re not bankrupt yet.” She stared at Ashton. “So, before you decide to bail on us, at least give the business one more chance. I say we meet here tomorrow morning and work on a strategy to bring in more customers.” She glanced from her sister to her cousin. “Does that sound reasonable?”

Tense from arguing, Allyson’s fingers clenched the bar as she anxiously waited for her cousin’s answer.

“Fine,” Ashton replied reluctantly. “I’ll stick it out for now, but if we don’t start making some decent money soon, I’m done working my tail off for this place.”

Allyson sighed with relief. She’d avoided shuttering the place for now. The trouble was, staying open amounted to only a small victory. The real battle was in keeping the bar open and that meant coming up with a plan that was nothing short of a miracle.

I can’t fail at this, she thought desperately. I’ve already failed at one business, but this time it’s worse. This time I’ll be letting down Aunt Rose. She believes in me. She wouldn’t have offered me an interest-free startup loan otherwise.

Not only that, but Allyson still had an outstanding bill to cover from the demise of her first business adventure—her ill-fated interior design company. The company wasn’t the problem. From the get-go, their business had grown by leaps and bounds. No, it was her partner, Janeen, who’d destroyed both of their reputations and their credit when she absconded with all the money in their account, leaving thousands of dollars of unpaid bills on the table.

The bankruptcy court took care of their creditors, but Allyson vowed to Sawyer Daniels that she’d personally pay him the ten thousand dollars the bankruptcy had wiped out for the remodeling work he’d done for her company. She had no choice. Not only was Sawyer her best friend from childhood, but he was now Ashton’s newlywed husband as well. She’d promised him the money would come from her profits from The Ramblin’ Rose—and she meant it.

Andy Williams’ mellow voice suddenly crooned, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year…”

Was it? Being broke at Christmas didn’t rate high on her list of “a few of my favorite things.” She had to come up with a plan to save her business—and fast—but she was so stressed out by the prospect of going belly-up again before Christmas that she couldn’t concentrate long enough to compose a list of ideas much less think rationally about her future.

Determination, desperation, and a stubborn streak were all she had. It had to be enough.

End of Chapter One

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