Spotlight & Giveaway: Mistletoe Season by Michelle Major

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Michelle Major to HJ!

Hi Michelle and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Mistletoe Season!

 
Thank you! I’m so happy to be here.
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

Angi Guilardi always believed that food is love, and not just because she grew up working in her family’s Italian restaurant in Magnolia. Her passion is creating innovative and hearty dishes that showcase both her Italian heritage along with the more modern techniques she learned in culinary school. But only one year of culinary school due to an unplanned pregnancy that forced her to drop out of the renowned program.
Of course she doesn’t regret sacrificing her dream for her three-year-old son, Andrew, who is the best part of her. She only wishes she could convince her parents to let her update the restaurant’s menu or add some of her cooking style into their family recipes. She gets a chance to try something on her own when she starts a catering company and enters into a partnership with the owner of Magnolia’s newest inn and wedding venue.

Angi’s mother doesn’t appreciate her attempt to reinvent her life, certain she just needs a good man to be happy, and decides to take matter into her own hands as a matchmaker. But instead of falling for one of the potential Mr. Rights, Angi finds herself captivated by Gabriel Carlyle, the new owner of Magnolia’s most popular floral shop, and the man who she’s still embarrassed to admit she and her friends bullied when they were kids.

Gabe hadn’t planned to move to the small southern town after his stint in the military, but he’s in Magnolia to help his ailing grandmother with the floral business she’s dedicated her life to. He finds that working with the plants and his grandma’s extensive garden helps ease the trauma from his traumatic military past. Most of Gabe’s memories of spending childhood summers in Magnolia involve Angi and the way she made his already difficult life more challenging. Too quiet, too serious and always a gangly outcast, Gabe struggled socially thanks to the dysfunction in his own home until his years in the Army honed him into a hardened machine with layers of rock-solid defenses around his heart.

To his surprise, Angi isn’t the same spoiled girl he remembers. Her dedication to her dreams and making a good life for her young son allows her to find a way past the walls he built until he wonders if trying to avoid heartache is the worth losing the one woman he’s ever truly wanted.

Angi isn’t thinking about love either. Yet despite Gabe’s surly attitude, the tenderness he shows with Andrew and the way he quietly supports her dreams makes her want to try again. Gabe is the last person she wants to rely on, especially when she’s regretted how she treated him for years. Despite what he believes, Angi knows he has the power to shatter her life but it’s only when she allows herself to risk her heart that they both have a chance at finding true happiness.
 

Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:

This is a little snippet of a scene I love especially – it references Jerry Maguire. I love using these kind of references to famous lines but making them real for my characters.

His gaze switched to Angi, and the emotion she saw there made her breath catch in her throat. “I’ve wasted too much time already.”
She shook her head, unsure how to respond to that. A twitter of anticipation whispered through the room.
“Oh my gosh, this is just like Jerry Maguire,” the soon-to-be-grandmother said excitedly. “Are you going to tell her she completes you?”
Gabe darted a glance at the older woman with her bottle-blond hair pulled back in a poufy chignon.
“No.” A ripple of disappointment seemed to dash across the baby shower partygoers.
“Although she does,” he quickly added, then looked at Angi helplessly.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• Both Angi and her mother are fabulous cooks and, in the name of research (of course), I spent a lot of time trying out new-to-me Italian recipes and flipping through slide shows of spectacular looking dishes. You can find a few of my favorites here: https://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/slideshow/classic-italian-recipes
• Many readers of the books set in Magnolia, North Carolina, already know that the town’s popular mayor, Malcolm Grimes, is based on one of my very good friends and a former volleyball coach of my daughter. For this book, I took inspiration for Angi’s mother, Bianca, from a real-life Bianca who I met at an RWA conference in San Antonio several years ago. She owned an Italian restaurant very close to the conference hotel, and we’d go there to work and have her feed us between workshops. She is amazing and I can’t wait to return to the city and visit her.
• Gabe decorates his grandmother’s flower shop with vintage holiday decorations that are 100% inspired by the way my two grandmothers decorated for Christmas in the 70s – those trees with the fake snow sprayed on them are the best! But I’m so glad tinsel has gone out of style.

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

Angi and Gabe have a history – not a pretty one – so neither of them want to be attracted to each other. It’s her son who first brings them together and helps them to see each other in a new light. She’s an excellent mother and although Gabe is a curmudgeon, he has a soft spot for 10-year-old Andrew (Roy Kent vibes, anyone?)

Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?

The following scene is a particularly vulnerable moment for Gabe, Angi and her son, Andrew. As a mom, any scene I write where a child is having a crisis can get my all weepy and I just love how Gabe steps up to the plate for both of them.

GABE’S HEART MELTED for the kid, and he decided in that moment, no matter what it took or how hard he had to work to convince Angi to let him help, he’d do it. At least to get Andrew through this rough patch. There had been so many times Gabe could have used someone to guide him. His grandma had done her best, but he’d only come to Magnolia for the summers. School years had often felt like a field of land mines with one wrong step sending his world into chaos.
“You were about to tell me why this activity is such a big deal.”
“The scouts in my troop need hours to get the community service badge each year. Everybody goes to the forest thing because it’s the best way to get them. We do trail cleanup and cut down Christmas trees to donate to families who don’t got money to buy `em.”
“Can’t you just do something else? Volunteer at Furever Friends scooping poop or feeding kittens or something?”
“I guess,” Andrew said after a long pause. “But the woods are the most fun. We have lunch at a cool cabin with a big moose head on the wall, and we get to use axes.”
“Very smart on the part of your troop leaders, by the way. Sending a bunch of boys into the woods with sharp tools. Wait until you read Lord of the Flies in school and you’ll understand what I’m talking about.”
“We also get extra points toward awards at the end of the troop year,” Andrew explained. “Each boy gets credit for his hours and his dad’s. My grandpa used to go with me, although he usually just brought lunch and didn’t do much chopping. That counted though, and it was fun. And now I can’t go because I don’t have anybody.”
Cue the violins, Gabe thought, but he understood Andrew’s dilemma. Gabe might never have known his father or been rejected outright, but he remembered how it had felt when other kids had dads and he didn’t. At school functions or summer baseball games or generally hanging out.
As a kid, Gabe had sometimes daydreamed about his dad showing up out of the blue on one of his birthdays with two broken-in baseball mitts. He’d hand one to Gabe and invite him to a neighborhood park to toss ball.
Other kids talked about trips to Disney World and the Grand Canyon. Gabe had just wanted to toss ball.
“Do you have a baseball mitt?” he asked Andrew.
The boy blinked and then frowned, clearly trying to figure out the abrupt change of subject. “No,” he said after a moment. “I play soccer, but I’m kind of bad at that, too.”
The door to the shop opened with a jingle from the bells overhead. Angi entered, her face a mix of frustration and acceptance. “I thought I’d find you here,” she said to her son, flicking an exasperated glance at Gabe. “We talked about leaving the restaurant without telling me.”
“Drew and I were just discussing the scout holiday hike or whatever they call it,” Gabe said, willing her to understand the implications for her son.
“It’s this weekend,” she said with a nod. “There’s an event at the inn, but I told Emma I can’t be there because I’ll be collecting pine cones.”
“We don’t collect pine cones.” Andrew looked understandably horrified. “And you can’t come with me, Mom. It’s a father-and-son thing.”
She scoffed, redoing the low ponytail that held back her dark hair. Gabe was momentarily distracted by her beauty. She wore the usual restaurant uniform of a white blouse and fitted black skirt, which to his mind was sexier than frilly lingerie. As she tipped up her chin to run her fingers through her hair, his gaze caught on the tiny beauty mark on the side of her throat. She had a smattering of similar spots across her body, and he’d spent a satisfying hour the other night cataloging as many as he could find.
If Angi truly belonged to him, he’d go to her now and brush his lips across her neck. A quick kiss, but one that would remind them both of things to come.
“That’s ridiculous,” she said now as she lowered her arms again. The beauty mark disappeared under the collar of her shirt. “I can tromp through the woods as well as any man. If those troop leaders want to discriminate on the basis of sex, I’ll just have to channel my inner Ruth Bader Ginsberg and—”
“No, Mom.” Andrew hopped off the chair with fisted hands. “No. I don’t even know who your Ruth friend is, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t go. And I can’t go. Because I don’t have—”
“I could take you,” Gabe said before the boy could finish his rant. Angi was sensitive to her status as a single mom, and a glance at her suddenly pale face suggested she realized now why this mattered so much to her son.
Her dark eyes met his, and the pain in their depths pierced his heart in the same way Andrew’s upset had minutes earlier. He gave a subtle nod and focused his attention on Andrew. “I know I’m probably a poor substitute for your grandfather. The troop will get no lunch from me, but Maybelle is looking for extra hours. She’s saving up to buy wireless headphones for her boyfriend this Christmas. It won’t be a problem for me to take off a whole day.”
Although Andrew’s chest still rose and fell with ragged breaths, he no longer looked like he was about to burst into tears. A little victory but a good start.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he told the boy. “I agree with your mom. Troop members should be able to bring whoever they want on this little outing. But if they’re so insistent on participants being of the variety who stand up when we use the facilities, I fit that bill.”
“I guess that would be okay,” Andrew said after a moment, clearly contemplating the reaction of his friends to showing up with Gabe. “Last year, Brett’s dad was out of town so his older brother came. He spent most of the day on his phone, but Brett still got credit for his hours.”
“I’m not going to be on my phone,” Gabe promised the boy.
“You don’t have to do that,” Angi said, her voice subdued. “It’s a ridiculous tradition, and time that it changed. I can—”
“Mom, please no.” Andrew wrapped his arms around her middle, gazing up into his mother’s face with pleading eyes. “Gabe can go. He said he doesn’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Gabe echoed.
Andrew gave Angi a fierce hug. “Please, Mom.”
Well played, kid, Gabe thought.
“Fine,” she murmured, stroking a hand through her son’s thick mop of hair. “But I’m going to volunteer to provide lunch, just like Papa used to do. I’m sure the troop won’t mind a mom bringing food to the event.”
Andrew nodded. “Sure. Maybe I’ll even get extra credit for that. Thanks, Mom.” He turned and looked at Gabe. “Thanks.”
“Go do your homework,” Gabe told him with a nod. “And remember that you have to tell your mom that you’re leaving the restaurant before you do.”
Andrew grabbed two big pieces of bear claw from the plate on the counter and then hurried out the door like he was worried Angi might change her mind.
“It’s not right,” she said when they were alone again. “He shouldn’t be made to feel bad because his father isn’t a part of his life.”
Gabe thought about whether to tell her that Andrew had reached out to the piece of trash who shared his DNA and decided against it for now. She looked fragile and fatigued, and he figured he’d wait to drop that little bomb.
“I’ve been there.” He reached for her, tugging her closer. “He’ll be fine eventually. It’s crap that whoever is running this troop still plays into those stereotypes, but you can find another time to fight that battle. Once Andrew gets his bonus hours for the tree we’re going to chop down.”
She rested her forehead against his chest, and he was grateful for her warmth and to have her fresh scent surrounding him once again. “It’s my fault. I was the one who made him join scouts and the soccer team and almost every activity he’s been a part of. I just didn’t want him to be left out, but now it looks like I’ve added to his issues instead of making them better.”
“You’re a wonderful mom,” he reminded her. He cupped her face in his hands and tipped up her chin. “You’re also under the mistletoe.” He raised his eyes to the strand of berries hanging above them.
“We don’t have an audience,” she said with an arched brow.
“I think this week proved that we’re better off without one,” he answered, and kissed her.

Readers should read this book….

If they are looking for a heartfelt and emotional holiday read that will leave them feeling uplifted and hopeful at the end. And who doesn’t need a little escape and extra hope these days?

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

2023 is gearing up to be another exciting year for me. I kick of January with Their New Year’s Beginning – the start of the latest Fortunes of Texas miniseries. Then in February I’m returning to my Special Edition series, Welcome to Starlight with the newest release, Starlight and the Single Dad. April has readers returning to Magnolia for Wedding Season, the third in The Carolina Girls series. And there will be more to come after that!
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: I’d love to give 3 readers a copy of Mistletoe Season (US only)

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Do you love or loathe decorating for the holidays? I love it and like to have everything up the week of Thanksgiving but I’m also ready to put it all away right after Christmas!

 
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Excerpt from Mistletoe Season:

ANGI GUILARDI LET herself out of Il Rigatone, the restaurant her family had owned in Magnolia, North Carolina, for the past thirty years, and locked the door behind her. It was nearly eleven at night, and a brisk December wind whipped down Main Street. Although she should be wearing more than a white button-down, now stained with smatterings of red sauce, Angi welcomed the gust of air. At least it blew away the smell of sausage and tomato paste that clung to her like a barnacle.
Scents that seemed to be infused into her at this point, bringing back memories of years of a childhood spent in and out of the restaurant. It had been a long day, so she needed a shower and a glass of wine in equal measure.
She started toward her car, parked around the corner, but the sound of a door slamming nearby caught her attention. Downtown Magnolia rolled up the sidewalks early on a weeknight, so she didn’t expect anyone else to be out and about. She arched a brow at the woman approaching.
“Are you stalking me?”
Emma Cantrell gave an impatient snort as she moved closer. “That’s what it feels like, but it wouldn’t be necessary if you’d return my calls or answer messages.”
Angi turned to fully face her business partner—now former partner. “I’ve been busy,” she said, trying to make her tone dismissive. Instead, the words reeked of desperation.
“How’s your mom?” Emma asked gently, her annoyance with Angi temporarily put aside because, clearly, Emma was a good person. Too good for Angi to be ignoring her the way she had.
“Equally weak and ornery.” Angi dropped the oversize set of keys into her purse with a jangle. “The doctor says two more weeks, and then she can slowly begin to resume her normal activities.”
“Like running Il Rigatone?”
“We don’t know yet if she’ll ever return at the same capacity.” Angi bit down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. “It doesn’t matter because I’m running it now.”
“But only temporarily,” Emma insisted. Or suggested, like saying the words out loud would make them true.
Oh, how Angi wanted them to be true.
She gave a small shake of her head. No more time for fanciful thoughts or big dreams about making her life her own. Unable to meet Emma’s sympathetic gaze, she looked across the street to the storefronts decorated in festive holiday cheer.
Colorful twinkle lights danced in the darkened window of the hardware store, and she could make out the shadow of garland wound through the sign for the dance studio. Boughs of greenery with bright red bows hung from every light post on either side of the street. Magnolia had gone all out on the holiday cheer this year.
Too bad Angi didn’t feel much of the holiday spirit. Sure, she’d gone through the motions of assembling the fake Christmas tree that had graced the corner of the restaurant’s small waiting area each December for as long as she could remember.
During a lull in customers yesterday, she and one of the waitresses had pulled out the totes of decorations from the storeroom, but nothing managed to conjure up the magic of the season. Not for her.
“I’m sorry I let you down,” she told Emma, thankful her voice remained steady. “I’ve got calls in to a couple caterers in the area to see if they can—”
“I don’t want another caterer.” Emma stepped forward. “You’re it, Ang.”
“I can’t…” She swallowed when a lump of sorrow lodged in her throat. “I should never have deserted my mom in the first place. If she hadn’t been working so much and upset about me as well, maybe the heart attack wouldn’t have happened.”
“Sweetie, you aren’t to blame for that.”
“She almost died,” Angi insisted, needing to make it clear. “Less than a year after my father. She collapsed in the restaurant’s storeroom, and I wasn’t here.”
“You were at the inn.”
“Having a grand old time, not a care in the world. My mom was fighting for her life, surrounded by employees until the EMTs got there, and I wasn’t with her. When she needed me the most—”
“Stop.” Emma held up a hand. “I remember that day, Angi. It was the McAlvey wedding, complete with the bride’s niece and her tiny Irish dancer friends pounding away on the parquet floor we assembled in the backyard. You made food for over a hundred guests. Plus lunch baskets for the Thompson reunion and their picnic at the beach. Five of the six online reviews that came from those two events mention the food being a highlight. You care a lot, so don’t pretend otherwise. Not with me.”
Emma still didn’t get it.
“I should have cared more about my mom. The way she did when I needed her. She looked so pale, Em.” Angi crossed her arms over her middle, squeezing tight. “I kept waiting for her eyes to pop open so she could start ordering me around or give me some kind of guilt trip, but she was still in the hospital bed with the monitors beeping and the smell of antiseptic permeating everything. She needs me now, and I can’t let her down.”
“What about letting yourself down? What about your happiness?”
Angi sniffed. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It should.”
“I’m sorry,” Angi said again.
She’d met Emma in the spring when the other woman bought an old mansion in town with a plan to turn it into a boutique inn. Emma had had her share of setbacks, but Angi admired her dedication to her dream. She also knew that leaving behind her old life had cost Emma her relationship with her mother.
Angi’s mom had been outspoken in the way only Italian mothers can manage when Angi walked away from the restaurant to partner with Emma on the inn. But Angi assumed that her mom would get over her disappointment. That they’d find a way to bridge the emotional distance between them. She loved her mom, even if Bianca Guilardi could be overbearing and autocratic. The willful matriarch had good intentions.
But they never got the chance to mend their fences because, a month earlier, Bianca had suffered a massive heart attack that led to double bypass surgery. In an instant, all of Angi’s plans changed.
She’d moved from her cozy apartment back to her childhood home, along with her ten-year-old son, Andrew, in order to care for her mom. She’d also stepped in at the restaurant, and in doing so, she’d left Emma in a pinch.
For that, she felt sick to her stomach with regret.
“If you can’t find someone to take care of the holiday events, I’ll still manage it,” she offered now, absently thinking about ways to clone herself.
“You can’t do both.”
“I will.”
Emma sighed. “My intention for tonight wasn’t to guilt you into more work.”
“Come on, I’m a master of guilt.”
“I know.” Emma gave her a pointed look. “That’s why I don’t want to add to it. I thought we were friends—business partners, as well. But you cutting me off as a friend is what hurts.”
Cue the remorse, Angi thought. She didn’t need anyone to lay it on her. She could do that very well for herself.
“It seems like all I’m doing lately is disappointing people. You and my mom.” She hitched a finger at the restaurant. “The staff who can tell I don’t want to be there. Andrew.”
“Wait. What’s going on with Andrew? I know you’re an amazing mother. That kid thinks the sun rises and sets on his mommy.”
Angi’s throat tightened again at the thought of her sweet, awkward, lanky string bean of a boy. He was everything to her, and now he was struggling and she didn’t know how to make it stop.
“He’s being bullied at school,” she confided. As difficult as it was to talk about, she appreciated the flash of supportive fury in Emma’s dark eyes.
“Give me the kid’s name.” Her buttoned-up friend spoke as if she were some kind of avenging angel.
“I don’t have it. Andrew won’t say anything, and his classmates are keeping quiet as well. But he came home with a split lip and scrapes on his hands. I talked to the teacher and met with her and the principal. They said all the right things, but kids can be such jerks. Maybe if we lived in a bigger town or someplace where differences were more accepted, it would be easier for him to find his way. I hated growing up in Magnolia, and now I’m doing the same thing to him.”
Her nails dug into the fleshy part of her palms, and she welcomed the pain. At least it distracted her from the telltale scratchy eyes that foretold a bout of tears. She wasn’t going to break down in the middle of the sidewalk, even if it was deserted.
“How is it possible to hate it here?” Emma shook her head. “It’s idyllic.”
“Not for the Italian cannoli princess,” Angi muttered.
“Is that like a Midwestern Corn Queen at the state fair?”
“Not exactly. Never mind. My point is that I’m screwing up in every aspect of life. I’m sorry I ghosted you, Em. We are friends, but I didn’t want to admit that I was ditching the inn. You gave me the new start I wanted, and I can’t keep up my end of the bargain.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Here comes the guilt again.”
“I didn’t give you anything. You earned your place in our partnership, which I refuse to believe is over. At least until your mom fully recovers and we see what happens next. I’ll find someone to help with the nitty-gritty food prep and serving, but I’m going to take you up on your offer to manage things for the holidays. As long as it’s not too much. We can reassess in the new year.” She enveloped Angi in a gentle hug and couldn’t have known how much it helped. “Either way, the friendship stands.”
“Okay.” Angi couldn’t help but agree. She wasn’t ready to let go of her dream, even though she knew she had to. She dashed a hand over her cheeks. “Do you believe in Christmas miracles?”
“Not really.”
“Me neither,” Angi agreed with a wry smile. “But I sure could use one.”
*
ANGI HALF EXPECTED her miracle to materialize after the conversation with Emma. She’d gone home feeling lighter than she had in weeks, like there might be a glimmer of hope that she could control her own destiny after her mother recovered. The next morning dashed that hope like a late-season snowfall on a delicate spring bloom.
“Mom, I don’t need a date. I don’t have time for a date.”
Bianca sat at the kitchen table, tapping one finger on the polished oak top as she glanced between her daughter and the laptop open in front of her.
“There’s always time for love,” she insisted, like she was imparting some deep wisdom.
“I have a date with the drop-off line at school,” Angi countered, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “Drew, come on,” she called as she glanced above her. “You need to eat breakfast so we can go, buddy.”
“Don’t call him that.” Her mother tsked. “Such a ridiculous name.”
Angi gritted her teeth. “It’s not ridiculous.”
“He looks like an Anthony,” her mother said.
Where was the bottle of headache medicine when Angi needed it? She’d been having the debate about her son’s name since the day of his birth. Bianca adored her grandson, but she couldn’t understand why he didn’t have a traditional Italian name, something to honor an older relative or dead ancestor. Angi had tried—for years—to explain to her mother that she liked the name Andrew and wanted her child to choose how much he wanted to embrace his heritage, not have his identity defined by a name. Luckily, Bianca never voiced her disappointment in front of Drew, but it was an ongoing, and useless, debate with Angi.
“Now, Andrew,” Angi shouted, then turned her attention to her mom. “I’m meeting with Aldo Caferno to discuss our monthly order before we open, and then I’ll be back to take you to the doctor after lunch. He’s charging way too much for their meats.”
“He’s a good boy,” her mom said. “We’ve been doing business with the family for years, so I’m sure they are giving us a fair price. How old is Aldo now?”
“He’s married old.” Angi dumped her coffee into a travel mug, cursing when it sloshed over the rim.
“His younger brother, Artie, is still single. Too much caffeine makes you jittery,” her mother said. “We can talk about potential dates when you get back.”
“No men.” Angi said the words like a plea.
“I’m a man,” Andrew pointed out as he came into the kitchen. He wore a striped sweatshirt and baggy jeans that she knew were hitched in at the waist by the growth buttons sewn into the fabric. His backpack looked like it might be heavy enough to make him topple over, but Angi knew her son was stronger than he appeared.
“My best little man.” Angi made to ruffle his hair as he walked toward the table, but he ducked out of reach.
“I’m not that little.”
Her heart stuttered at the sound of defiance in his tone. “Getting bigger every day,” she agreed.
“Give your Nonna a kiss.” Bianca opened her arms wide, shooting Angi an accusatory glance over Andrew’s shoulder. “My strong Italian prince.”
Next, Angi could just imagine her mother blaming Andrew’s social issues on the name she’d given him.
She wondered if it was actually possible to grind her teeth to dust.
As Andrew ate his breakfast, Angi finished emptying the dishwasher, started a load of laundry and then kissed her mother’s forehead, the scent of Shalimar taking her back to more innocent times. “What do you think about a hair appointment next week?” She finger combed her mom’s curls. “Fresh highlights and a trim.”
“That would be lovely,” Bianca said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I don’t want to be too much trouble. I know you have better things to do than be burdened taking care of me.”
Angi’s cheeks hurt with the effort to remain smiling. “You’re not a burden.”
Before her mom could heap more passive-aggressive guilt onto the already overflowing pile, Angi herded her son out the door.
She tried to bring up the situation at school as they drove, but Drew kept steering the conversation back to his ever-growing Christmas list. His small hands gripped the straps of his camo-patterned backpack so tightly his knuckles turned white.
It broke her heart to see him hurting and not be able to help. Memories of her own struggles fitting in assailed her, and not for the first time she contemplated whether she could add homeschooling to her list of to-dos.
“I’m fine, Mom,” he said as he opened the door, flashing a gap-toothed grin.
When had she become Mom instead of Mommy?
The hits kept on coming.
One of the few benefits to being pulled in a thousand different directions each day was that she didn’t have much time to ruminate over all the ways she wasn’t measuring up. She made it through the meeting with Aldo, refusing to allow him to mansplain supply costs to her and getting him to agree to a ten percent reduction in their monthly bill.
She greeted the regulars, along with a few new faces, who came in for lunch. The town of Magnolia had seen a recent resurgence in popularity after years of decline, and Il Rigatone should be reaping the benefits of the area’s renewed popularity.
Unfortunately, visitors didn’t seem to appreciate the old-school charm of the place, which hadn’t been updated in decades. Angi knew online reviews for the restaurant were a mixed bag, some praising the classic dishes they served and others bemoaning the lack of innovation with the menu items.
Her mother’s appointment was routine, so by the time she got back to the restaurant in the late afternoon, Angi felt somewhat calmer. Right now, checking in on her son topped the priority list, so she went looking for his dark head.
“Where’s Andrew?” she asked Dominic Marcelli, Il Rigatone’s longtime head cook. The elementary school was only a few blocks from downtown, so Drew walked to the restaurant after dismissal and did his homework or played video games in the back office until she could drive him home.
Angi had spent her childhood much the same way, although her son did a lot less pilfering of food from the storeroom and refrigerators than Angi had as a kid.
“Haven’t seen him,” Dom told her, not glancing up from his online poker game.
“His backpack is in the office,” she said, trying not to let panic take hold. She knew he’d arrived safely from school, although normally Angi was waiting with a snack and a hug. Andrew knew not to go exploring around town without checking in with her first. Didn’t he?
Neither of the waitresses on shift had noticed him, and it killed her that her son could be so overlooked by the people around him. Or that she hadn’t been available when he’d arrived. What if something else had happened at school to upset him? What if he was hiding?
Calm down, she ordered herself. She wasn’t going to do either of them any good by panicking. Magnolia was a safe town. People knew Andrew. They knew Angi and her mom. The freezer at home was stuffed to the brim with get-well casseroles, most of which her mom wouldn’t touch because she was so particular about food. Plus, most of them didn’t fit the new heart-healthy eating guidelines the doctor had given her.
“I’m going to walk the block,” she told Annie and Lana, the two waitresses working the afternoon shift. “Maybe he went for candy at the hardware store or to check out Christmas trees.” She’d promised him that this year they could get a real tree from the lot in the town square, and he had specific plans for what he wanted. “Please text me if he comes back.”
“Will do. You and your brothers ran wild through the town at Andrew’s age. I’m sure he’s just following in your footsteps,” Lana added, then went to wait on the one occupied table in her station.
A terrifying thought.
Lily Wainright, who ran the hardware store her family owned for generations, reported that Andrew had been in fifteen minutes earlier for a box of sour gummies. The knowledge calmed Angi somewhat. She couldn’t imagine giving him a cell phone in second grade, but she sure would like one of those tracking apps made for parents.
After scanning both sides of the street with no sight of him, she made a lap through the square and then headed back toward the restaurant. A bright spot of orange on the ground caught her eye. A telltale gummy worm discarded just next to the coir welcome mat outside the In Bloom flower shop. Oh, no. What would her son want in a flower shop? Especially one now owned by a surly, cantankerous hulk of a man.
She glanced at the shop’s picture window and saw a small head bobbing around displays of multicolored roses. As anxiety drained out of her, it was immediately replaced by irritation. Both at her son and the flower shop’s owner.
Angi’d had a crap-tastic day, and an unavoidable confrontation with Gabe Carlyle would be the icing on the doo-doo cake of her life.
She pushed her way into the store anyway, ready to fling a bit of doo-doo around in Gabe’s direction. Maybe that would help her mood. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Spend the holidays in Magnolia, North Carolina, where two lonely hearts find exactly what they need for Christmas.

Angi Guilardi needs a man for Christmas—at least, according to her mother. What she really needs is to grow her fledgling catering business. Partnering with Magnolia’s Wildflower Inn holds promise, but when her mother falls ill, Angi’s pulled back to the responsibility of the family restaurant. While she balances work and her eight-year-old son, romance is the last thing on her mind…until Angi runs into Gabriel Carlyle.

Back in town to help his grandmother at her flower shop, Gabriel has no plans to stick around Magnolia, especially after he bumps into one of his childhood bullies. Sure, Angi’s all grown up and gorgeous now, and when they find themselves under the mistletoe, their chemistry is undeniable. But it’ll take more than a Christmas miracle for Angi to break through the defenses of Gabriel’s well-guarded heart and find a love built to last.
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Meet the Author:

Michelle Major grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. More than twenty years ago, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Today her home includes her husband, their two children, several furry pets, and a couple of well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion for writing stories with happy endings.
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