Sarah Morgan - Snow Crystal Trilogy - Sleigh Bells in the Snow / Suddenly Last Summer / Maybe This Christmas

And then there were the smells. Oh, God, the smells . Cinnamon and spice, freshly baked rolls and the sharp fragrance of pine. The association with Christmas had been so powerful it had taken all her willpower not to turn and run. If Jackson hadn’t been standing behind her, she would have done just that.

Unable to feel her toes anymore, Kayla slipped but this time managed to stay upright.

“Kayla!” Jackson’s voice thundered through the freezing air, and she gave a moan of denial.

She wasn’t ready to face him. She’d snap, like one of the slender icicles dangling from the frozen fir trees.

He was going to fire her, and she was going to have to slink back to New York and face not only Brett and her colleagues, but also all the craziness of a New York Christmas.

“Kayla!” His voice was closer this time, but still she stumbled on, her feet soaked and freezing.

Panic lodged itself in her throat, as solid and real as a decoration from a Christmas tree.

Only when she heard the sound of an engine did she stop.

He pulled up next to her. The window was down, his breath making clouds in the freezing air. “Get in the car.”

“I really don’t—”

“Now.”

She thought about arguing but one glance at the hard set of his jaw made her rethink. She wondered how she ever could have thought Jackson O’Neil friendly and approachable.

Right now he looked grim-faced and intimidating. It was obvious he was furious with her, and she didn’t blame him. She was furious with herself.

Furious and humiliated. This was a million times worse than landing flat on her back in the snow. This was her job , and she hadn’t been prepared for failure. She’d been flying high for so long she no longer even thought about flapping her wings. It just happened. But not tonight. Tonight, she’d fallen out of the sky and crashed to the ground, and now she had no idea what to do.

It hadn’t occurred to her that she wouldn’t be able to handle the Snow Crystal meeting. But it hadn’t been Snow Crystal that had been her downfall; it had been the O’Neil family. Grandma, grandpa, mum, niece, pets, food, decorations, photographs—

“Kayla—” he spoke through his teeth “—get in the damn car.”

Kayla slunk into the car, shivering like a puppy that had fallen into a snowdrift.

She expected him to drive but instead he sat there, his expression incredulous.

“What the fuck happened back there?”

She flinched. Yet another question she’d never before been asked by a client. At least no one could accuse Jackson O’Neil of not getting straight to the point. No that didn’t go quite as planned , or that could have been better .

When she didn’t answer, he spread his hands in silent question. “You’re supposed to be the best. You handle CEOs who know nothing, but think they’re experts. You’ve managed to build links with hardened, cynical journalists who won’t even pick up the phone to most PR people. According to Brett you’re the youngest associate vice president your company has ever appointed—you achieve all that and then you allow yourself to be bullied into silence by one eighty-year-old man? What is that about?”

It was about so much more than the man. “You have a right to be upset.”

“I’m not upset. I’m confused. And, frankly, disappointed.”

The word was like a blow in the gut. She’d never disappointed a client before. Never.

“Jackson—”

“I don’t want excuses. I want the truth. I want to know what the hell went wrong! What happened? Was it the people? I told you it was a family business.”

“Yes, but I didn’t expect them to be so—so—” So like a family . She couldn’t say that. It sounded ridiculous. “I expected to talk business. I didn’t expect all the cooking and the photographs and all the small talk—the personal stuff.”

“So? It’s a little distracting, I admit. Annoying on occasion,” he added under his breath, “but you’re a professional. You told me there were no difficult questions you couldn’t handle.”

“I meant business questions.” Her voice rose. “I didn’t expect to be asked if I was wearing thermal underwear.”

“Oh, for—” He broke off and leaned his head back against the seat, tension visible in his jaw. “Alice is eighty. Since my father died she worries about everything from hypothermia to avalanches. You should have just smiled and ignored her. You should have ignored all of them and said what you wanted to say.”

“I couldn’t ignore them.”

“Why? It should have been obvious to you they don’t understand public relations. They don’t understand marketing. They’ve done things the same way for the past sixty years, and they’re so terrified of change they’d rather sink like a stone than try something different. They’re scared. Confused. They can’t see the logic of spending money when we’re losing it. It was up to you to convince them. That was your job.”

“Yes.” And she’d failed. A lump wedged itself in her throat and she felt a rush of horror. Great. Now she was going to cry. Something she hadn’t done since she was thirteen. “I’ll contact Brett tonight and tell him to put someone else on the account. It’s too late to get to the airport tonight so I’d appreciate if I could stay another night and then tomorrow I’ll leave. I’ll pay for the accommodation.” She stared straight ahead. Straight into the snow and the dark, feeling completely alone. Even work, her closest and most trusted friend, had abandoned her.

“Leave? You’re going to leave just because your pride is bruised? Hell, if I walked out each time my grandfather bruised my pride I’d never be home.”

Kayla looked at him, confused. “I’m not leaving because of pride. I’m leaving because I assume that’s what you want.”

Fierce blue eyes locked on hers. “Why would I want that? If you’ve learned one thing tonight it’s that I need all the help I can get. You’re going to leave me to deal with them on my own?”

He didn’t want her to leave?

Her heart started to pound. “I thought—I assumed—”

“You’re not leaving. And I don’t want anyone else on the account.” His voice was roughened and deep. “I want Kayla Green. I mean the real Kayla Green, not the woman who turned up tonight.”

She wondered what he’d say if he knew that the woman who had turned up tonight was the real Kayla Green. “I can’t, Jackson. Even if I wanted to, there is no way I’ll be able to persuade your family to take anything I say seriously after what just happened. I was unprofessional.”

For the first time in her whole career, she’d walked out of a meeting.

“My grandmother knitted her way through the meeting, my mother was cooking and my brother was looking at your legs—” There was an edge to his voice. “So when it comes to unprofessional we are way ahead of you. I don’t care about that. I care about getting the job done. We’re just a family, Kayla. A family in crisis.”

“I know nothing about dealing with a family in crisis.” She heard desperation in her voice and knew he heard it, too, because those dark brows locked together in a frown.

“I’m asking you to focus on the work, that’s all. You need to filter out the personal stuff. They don’t understand the business and they help in the only way they know—by being there.”

Being there. His words confirmed what she already knew. That the O’Neils were a family who stuck together no matter what life threw at them.

“They don’t want my help.”

“Welcome to my world. My grandfather resists all suggestions because he thinks he knows best. If he had his way he’d still be running Snow Crystal himself. I admit he can be difficult, but you feast on difficult, don’t you?” The sardonic reminder of their conversation in New York made her wince. She made a mental note to strangle Brett when she saw him next.