Christmas in Bayberry

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Who would be calling him at this hour? His mother? Maybe something was wrong.

He slipped the phone from his pocket. Mr. Summers? What did he want?

As everyone continued to sing “O Christmas Tree,” Wes moved away from the group. He pressed a button and held the phone to his ear. “Hello.”

“Wes, how are things going?”

“Good, sir.” He went on to give him a summary of the reports that he’d been able to complete so far.

“What—” Applause from the crowd drowned out Mr. Summers’ voice.

Wes pressed a palm to his other ear. “I’m sorry, sir. What were you saying?”

“The five-year projection.” Agitation vibrated in the older man’s voice. “I want to know if it’s complete.”

Wes inwardly groaned. “I haven’t been able to get that far, as I’ve had to pull each number by hand.”

“This isn’t good.” There was a pause. “Is that singing in the background?”

“Um…” He kept walking until he was next to the deserted street. “Yes, sir.”

“You mean you’re out partying instead of working?” There was a distinct note of disapproval in his voice.

Wes knew this wasn’t going to help him when it came to the promotion. In fact, it would probably hurt him. He should have gone with his instincts and remained at the office.

“No, it’s not like that,” he began.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s a tree lighting, sir.” As he said the words, he could feel the promotion slipping from his grasp.

“Tree lighting?”

“Yes, sir. It’s when they light up a Christmas tree in the center of town—”

“I know what a tree lighting is. What I don’t understand is what my employee is doing there when he doesn’t have his work done.”

Wes shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well sir, the owner’s niece invited me and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. I will be working overtime to make up for this.”

“Hmph. See that you do.” And then the line went dead.

Wes stared down at his phone, alarmed. He’d never been pressured to wrap up a job this quickly. What was going on?

Kate hurried over to him. “Is everything okay?”

He shook his head. “It was my boss checking in.”

“Oh. Did you tell him how hard you’ve been working?”

“I tried.”

“But?”

“But it doesn’t matter.” Wes shook his head again, trying to clear the confusion. Perhaps he’d read more into the other man’s tone than he should have. Maybe Mr. Summers was tired. Or maybe he was jealous that he didn’t have anyone to drag him to a tree lighting. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing. Everyone is singing carols, and then we’ll make our way over to Mel’s for food.”

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head back to the B&B.” His good mood had escaped him.