A Fool's Gold Christmas (Fool's Gold #9.5)(42)
The change of subject had him scrambling to catch up. “Excuse me?”
“The Live Nativity. May will worry about Priscilla being left home alone on Christmas Eve Day. She’s welcome. Along with her pony.”
“You do realize Priscilla is an elephant?”
“Of course.”
“In a nativity?”
“God loves all His creatures.”
“Won’t that look strange?”
“It will look welcoming. No one should be alone for Christmas, Mr. Jefferson. Not even an elephant.”
“How is May supposed to get her here?”
“She can walk. It’s not that far. Just make sure Heidi doesn’t offer to ride her. I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
He honestly didn’t know what to say. He’d seen the stage where the Live Nativity would be on Christmas Eve Day. There was room for Priscilla on either side, along with her pet pony. But still.
Dante drew in a breath. He might never have lost in court, but he recognized a moment when he should simply accept defeat.
“I’ll pass along the message.”
“Thank you.” She touched his arm. “I’m so glad you’re here, and we’re very lucky to have you as a part of our Fool’s Gold family.”
She smiled, released him and left. Dante was left standing in the center of the empty room, feeling as if he’d been run over by a freight train. What had just happened? And why did he suddenly want to hug everyone?
Grumbling to himself that the old lady was crazy, he stalked out of the ballroom and headed back to the office. He needed some quality time with a legal brief. That would set his world to rights. Then he could forget all this Christmas crap and get back to being himself.
Chapter Thirteen
Evie wrote down another idea for a cheer, then pushed away the paper. She had to focus on her production, and time was ticking. There were less than three weeks until The Dance of the Winter King, and she was starting to panic. While helping the cheerleaders was fun, she had to remember her responsibility to her students and the town. Of course, when she thought of it in those terms, she got a little sick to her stomach.
A distraction appeared in the form of footsteps on the stairs. It was several hours until her first lesson, but she’d received an email from Dominique Guérin, her boss. Dominique was flying in for the holidays and had said she would like to stop by the studio that morning.
Another thing to be nervous about, Evie thought, automatically standing, her back straight, her feet in first position. Miss Monica, who had sold the dance studio to Dominique over the summer, had been running the school for years. Evie had only been teaching for a couple of months and had never run anything. For all she knew, Dominique was going to fire her.
“Cheerful, upbeat attitude,” she murmured, telling herself not to go looking for trouble. After all, it seemed to have no problem finding her. Besides, she’d met Dominique before, and the woman had been very friendly. Of course, back then, Evie hadn’t been in charge.
The door opened and Dominique swept inside. Evie resisted the urge to curtsy in the presence of greatness, instead offering a smile and a handshake.
“Dominique,” she said. “It’s lovely to see you.”
Dominique Guérin had to be close to sixty, but she looked as if she were in her forties. Petite, beautiful, with short gold-blond hair and large eyes, she moved with a dancer’s sureness and elegance. She’d been more than a great artist, she’d been a star. She’d graced every famous stage in every country, had danced for presidents and kings and been awarded nearly every honor possible. There were rumors of a title, bestowed by Queen Elizabeth, but Evie couldn’t get confirmation on that.
“Evie!” Dominique moved close and hugged her. “You look wonderful. So young. I’m jealous. How are you doing? I read all your emails about Monica. Running off with a man, at her age. I don’t know if I should be impressed or worried about her hip.”
Dominique smiled. “But if he’s her great love, she shouldn’t ever look back. Everyone deserves a great love. Of course, she’s left us in a bit of a pickle.”
“That’s one way to describe it,” Evie murmured, offering Dominique a chair.
She’d already made tea and now poured them each a mug, then settled across from her boss and sent out a quick request to the universe that the meeting go well.
Dominique shrugged out of her faux-fur coat and draped it over the back of her chair. Evie eyed the other woman’s fitted turtleneck and slim jeans. She doubted Dominique had put on a pound since her dancing days.
Dominique picked up her mug of tea. “Fool’s Gold is so pretty. I’ve been in New York, and while it’s beautiful there during the holidays, I do love the small town feel here. And there’s plenty going on.”
Evie gave a strangled laugh. “Sure. The pet adoption, the book drive, hayrides out at the ranch, the day of giving and, hey, The Dance of the Winter King. It’s busy.”
Dominique smiled at her. “You sound overwhelmed.”
“Just some days. I’m supposed to help out with the hayrides. I’ve been told I’m elf material. And I’m also working on the pet adoption. That’s on the fifteenth. It’s a lot to get through.”
“It is. I wonder if Charlie and Clay would like a pet.” Dominique leaned toward her. “Clay and I have been talking. He wants a big wedding. Something the town can be involved in. Charlie wants to elope. She says she’s not bride material.”