Jessica Hart - Under the Boss’s Mistletoe

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In high school, Jake Trevelyan was Cassie Grey's dream rebel. He surfed, rode a motorbike – now he's her new boss!
It's events planner Cassie's job to transform Jake's mansion into a snow-kissed wedding venue. Not to relive her old fantasy they're the ones getting married.
Posing as the happy couple for a publicity photo shoot, Cassie pinches herself as Jake leans in for a showstopping kiss.but it's just for the cameras, isn't it?

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Jake had been flicking through the brochure, but at that he glanced up. ‘Fiancée?’

‘The bride generally has a good idea about what kind of wedding she wants,’ Cassie explained. ‘In our experience, grooms tend to be less concerned with the nitty-gritty of the organisation.’

‘I think there may be some misunderstanding,’ said Jake, frowning. ‘I’m not engaged.’

Cassie’s face fell ludicrously. ‘Not…? You’re not getting married?’ she said, hoping against hope that she had misheard.

‘No.’

Then how was she to hold on to her job? Cassie wondered wildly. ‘So you don’t need help planning a wedding?’ she asked, just to make sure, and Jake let the brochure drop onto the table with a slap of finality.

‘No.’

‘But…’ Cassie was struggling to understand how it could all have gone so wrong before she had even started. ‘Why did you get in touch?’

‘When Tina told me that you were in the wedding business I was under the impression that you managed a venue. I hadn’t appreciated that you were involved with planning the weddings themselves.’

‘Well, we deal with venues, of course,’ said Cassie, desperate to hold on to something. ‘We help couples with every aspect of the wedding and honeymoon.’ She launched into her spiel, but Jake cut her off before she could really get going.

‘I’m really looking for someone who can advise on what’s involved in converting a house into a wedding venue. I’m sorry,’ he said, making to get to his feet. ‘It looks as if I’ve been wasting your time.’

Cassie wasn’t ready to give up yet. ‘We do that too,’ she said quickly.

‘What, waste time?’

‘Set up wedding venues,’ she said, refusing to rise to the bait, and meeting his eyes so guilelessly that Jake was fairly sure that she was lying. ‘Between us, Joss and I have a lot of experience of using venues, and we know exactly what’s required. Where is the house?’ she asked quickly, before he could draw the conversation to a close.

‘I’m thinking about the Hall,’ he relented.

‘The Hall?’ Cassie repeated blankly. ‘Portrevick Hall?’

‘Exactly.’

‘But…isn’t it Rupert’s now?’

‘No,’ said Jake. ‘Sir Ian left the estate in trust and I’m the trustee.’

Cassie stared at him, her career crisis momentarily forgotten. ‘You?’ she said incredulously.

He smiled grimly at her expression. ‘Yes, me.’

‘What about Rupert?’ she asked, too surprised for tact.

‘Sir Ian’s money was left in trust for him. He hasn’t proved the steadiest of characters, as you may know.’

Cassie did know. Rupert’s picture was regularly in the gossip columns. There was a certain irony in the fact that Jake was now the wealthy, successful one while Rupert had a reputation as a hellraiser, albeit a very glamorous one. He seemed to get by largely on charm and those dazzling good looks.

She forced her attention back to Jake, who was still talking. ‘Sir Ian was concerned that, if he left him the money outright, Rupert would just squander it the way he has already squandered his inheritance from his parents.’

‘It just seems unfair,’ she said tentatively. ‘Rupert is Sir Ian’s nephew, after all. I’m sure he expected to inherit Portrevick Hall.’

‘I’m sure he did too,’ said Jake in a dry voice. ‘Rupert’s been borrowing heavily on exactly that expectation for the last few years now. That’s why Sir Ian put the estate into a trust. He was afraid Rupert would simply sell it off to the highest bidder otherwise.’

‘But why make you the trustee?’ said Cassie without thinking.

‘It’s not a position I angled for, I can assure you,’ Jake said with a certain astringency. ‘But I owe Sir Ian a lot, so I had to agree when he asked me. I assumed there would be plenty of time for him to change his mind, and he probably did the same. He was only in his sixties, and he’d had no history of heart problems. If only he’d lived longer…’

Restlessly, Jake pushed away his coffee cup and got to his feet. There was no point in ‘if only’s. ‘Anyway, the fact remains that I’m stuck with responsibility for the house now. I promised Sir Ian that I would make sure the estate remained intact. He couldn’t bear the thought of the Hall being broken up into flats, or holiday houses built in the grounds.

‘Obviously, I need to fulfil his wishes, but I can’t leave a house like that standing empty. It needs to be used and maintained, and somehow I’ve got to find a way for it to pay for itself.’

Coming to a halt by the window, Jake frowned unseeingly at the view while he remembered his problem. ‘When I was down at Portrevick last week, sorting out things with the solicitor, she suggested that it might make a suitable wedding-venue. It seemed like an idea worth pursuing. I happened to mention it in the pub that night, and that’s how your name came up. But, judging by your brochure, your company is more concerned with the weddings themselves rather than running the venues.’

‘Normally, yes,’ said Cassie, not so engrossed in the story of Sir Ian’s extraordinary will that she had forgotten that her new-found career with Avalon was on the line. ‘But the management of a venue is closely related to what we do, and in fact this is an area we’re looking at moving into,’ she added fluently. She would have to remember to tell Joss that they were diversifying. ‘Clearly, we have considerable experience of dealing with various venues, so we’re in a position to know exactly what facilities they need to offer.’

‘Hmm.’ Jake sounded unconvinced. He turned from the window to study Cassie, sitting alert and eager on the sofa. ‘All right, you know the Hall. Given your considerable experience, what would you think of it as a wedding venue?’

‘It would be perfect,’ said Cassie, ignoring his sarcasm. ‘It’s a beautiful old house with a wonderful location on the coast. It would be hard to imagine anywhere more romantic! I should think couples all over the South West would be queuing up to get married there.’

Jake came back to sit opposite her once more. He drummed his fingers absently on the table, obviously thinking. ‘It’s encouraging that you think it would make a popular venue, anyway,’ he said at last.

‘Yes, I do,’ said Cassie eagerly, sensing that Jake might be buying her spur-of-the-moment career shift into project management.

She leant forward persuasively. ‘I’m sure Sir Ian would approve of the idea,’ she went on. ‘He loved people, didn’t he? I bet he would have liked to see the Hall used for weddings. They’re such happy occasions.’

‘If you say so,’ said Jake, clearly unconvinced.

He studied Cassie with a faint frown, wondering if he was mad to even consider taking her advice. She had always been a dreamer, he remembered, and the curly hair and dimple gave her a warm, sweet but slightly dishevelled air that completely contradicted the businesslike suit and the stylish, totally impractical shoes.

There was something chaotic about Cassie, Jake decided. Even sitting still, she gave the alarming impression that she was on the verge of knocking something over or making a mess. Good grief, the girl couldn’t even manage walking into a room without falling over her own shoes! Having spent the last few years cultivating a careful sense of order and control, Jake found the aura of unpredictability Cassie exuded faintly disturbing.

He had a strong suspicion, too, that Cassie’s experience of managing a venue was no wider than his own. She was clearly desperate for work, and would say whatever she thought he wanted to hear.

If he had any sense, he would close the meeting right now.

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