California Christmas Dreams

She’d always have a job with them, but accepting John’s offer gave her a new opportunity to shine. She didn’t want to play second banana anymore. She wanted more.

The song ended and John grinned at her. He looked into the box and pulled out another package of Christmas lights. “This is a good start.”

“Since you’re here, would you like to see my preliminary sketches?” She walked over to her worktable and turned on the light. She’d spent the past week measuring the park, the footprints of the different rides, the pathways between them and the orange trees that dotted the park. From that she’d worked up a blueprint that gave her an aerial view, though she was going to need more detail. She flipped open her notebook. “I’ve done four themes for you,” she said. “Christmas in California is the first one.”

John nodded as he glanced at the large drawing. She’d drawn a schematic diagram of the park, highlighting each section. John’s original concept for his park had been to showcase the variety of activities Southern California had to offer. The Los Angeles area had its own unique activities. A person could spend the morning at the beach, then the afternoon skiing in the mountains or looking at the stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. John had tried to integrate those ideas into his park. Merry had to figure out how to layer a Christmas theme over the different sections and keep it cohesive with the original concept. She’d worked out four different ideas she thought could work. “I like this,” John said, pointing at her first idea of implementing the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. She’d decorated the orange trees with lights and added some gift boxes with large bows to the base of a tree. She’d sketched in various L.A. landmarks, such as the Hollywood sign, in various places near the different rides.

“This is a Currier and Ives Christmas,” she said, turning the page to show him the next one.

He glanced at the sleigh pulled by reindeer and nodded slightly. Another scene showed singers dressed in nineteenth-century garb. The third scene was a fireplace with stockings hanging from it and the fourth was a cute display of a Christmas tree lit up and decorated with bows.

“I’m not sure about this one,” John said.

She showed him the third idea, Christmas Around the World, and he disliked it immediately. The fourth theme, Hollywood Christmas, was a series of scenes from different Christmas movies.

“That’s a strong possibility,” John said, but he turned back to the first one. “I think this is the one to go with. I love the Hollywood Christmas, but Christmas in California is more accessible to children.”

“Okay, then,” she said with a smile. Christmas in California was her favorite, too. She wondered if she could convince her mother or her sister to make a stained glass Christmas tree for the entrance.

“I’m glad you’re here,” John said.

“Me, too,” Merry said. She folded the rejected drawings and started making mental lists in her head. “I think my budget will just cover all of this.” If she were really, really careful. Luckily her mother had taught her to pinch a penny until it turned into a quarter.

“Good. Get going.”

After John left, she found herself wandering out into the park, seeing it in her mind’s eye and planning the different areas. With the park empty, she could visualize the different sections and what they would look like. The Chapman Brothers theme park was never empty. Visitors thronged the park during the day, and the cleanup and maintenance crews worked at night.

* * *

Jake stood off to the side in the shade of an orange tree, watching the former child actress as she walked around the park. She wore jeans, a white T-shirt and sneakers. Curly black hair hung down to her shoulders. Her skin was the color of caramel cream, and she looked very intense as she held a notebook in her hand. Every few feet she’d stop and write something in the notebook. Then she’d turn her head first one way then another as she studied what she was looking at. Then she’d write in her notebook again and move forward a few more feet.

She was cute in a waiflike manner with slightly tilted dark eyes and smiling mouth. He remembered her from Maddie’s Mad World. He’d loved the show when he was a kid and had had a bit of a crush on Maddie’s best friend, Chloe, as played by Meredith Alcott. And seeing Chloe in the flesh made his fingers tingle while a little shiver walked up and down his spine.

His phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the display. He had to answer this one.

“Jake Walters,” he said, and braced himself.

“You said your father was ready to sell,” Harry Constantine said angrily. “What’s going on, Walters? Did he have a better offer that I don’t know about?”

Actually, Jake had had a number of offers once the word had gotten out his dad was thinking of selling, but he wasn’t about to tell Constantine that. “I’m sorry, Mr. Constantine, but he just doesn’t want to part with the park yet.”

“My partners and I are deeply annoyed at this interruption to the deal.”

“There hasn’t been a deal yet. The property belongs to my father, sir,” Jake said stiffly, wondering why Constantine thought he was going to be the one. “He doesn’t have to sell if that is his decision.”

“I wasted months of my time putting this offer together and getting investors. And now he decides he doesn’t want to sell! That property is ready to be developed. There are five new housing projects in development in that area. Does he want more money? I’ll toss another million on the pile.”

“Money isn’t the issue, sir.” Jake wanted to be polite to this man, but his normal level of diplomacy was quickly becoming strained.

“I’ve wanted to purchase this property for ten years,” Harry said, his voice rising.

“Sir, I apologize for my father, but he changed his mind and that is his prerogative. Since no papers have been signed, he can do that.”

“I’m talking to my lawyers.” Constantine disconnected and Jake found himself listening to dead air.

That didn’t go well, he thought. He wondered who would be calling next. Probably Alicia Mortensen at Kessler Investments. She and her investors had made an offer, as well. Alicia was a predator and a longtime rival of Constantine. Jake didn’t want to think about all the people his father had probably antagonized because of his decision. So he went back to watching the actress. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that he doubted she’d even noticed him.

He finally found himself walking up to her. She looked up at his approach and his head did a little lurch inside his chest. She’d been pretty as a teenager, but she was beautiful now. Beautiful in a way that took his breath away. She was petite, maybe an inch or two over five feet, and had a trim, slender figure with curves in all the right places. Her face was long and a bit narrow, framed by shoulder-length black hair with a hint of curl. Her mouth was bold and pouty, and her brown eyes were intense with a fire that took his breath away.

He wondered what kind of a person she was. In his mind, actors had such fragile egos. He figured he could intimidate the hell out of her and she’d back off. Maybe even quit, and then Jake could talk to his father again. Before he had a chance to say anything, his phone rang again. He glanced at the display. “Ah, Alicia Mortensen.” He sent the call to voice mail. He would deal with her later.

He walked right up to the actress, and before he could open his mouth, she smiled at him and he found himself speechless, caught up in her hypnotizing beauty. He felt like a gulping fish.

“Hi.” A light breeze fluttered the tips of her curly black hair. Up close, her brown eyes had the tiniest bit of green in them.

“You must be Chloe.” That was original.

Her eyebrows went up in surprise. “I think you have me confused with the name of the character I played on Maddie’s Mad World.” Her voice was sultry and low. “My name is Merry. Meredith Alcott.”

“I know,” Jake replied, chagrined at his mistake. “I’ve always wondered what child actors did after they retired.”

“Some of us get jobs, some of us go into rehab, some of us just drop out of sight,” she replied sweetly.

“I’m glad you’re not in rehab.” That sounded pretty foolish. He couldn’t come up with something better?

“Me, too,” she said.

“How are you planning to separate my old man from his money?”

Her eyebrows rose and she chuckled. “You must be Jake. Your sister was a bit more subtle than you.” She studied him for a second and then stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Was that sarcasm? He opened his mouth to say something. Again, nothing came out. Apparently she wasn’t threatened by him, or by his sister, and Evelyn was a bulldozer. So much for her being a frail, fragile actress. She watched him, her jaw set in determination and a look in her eyes that told him there was nothing frail or fragile about her. He looked down at her hand and saw ink smudged on two fingers. She had beautiful hands, with long, slender fingers and nails buffed to shine. He took her hand and shook it, surprised at the firmness of her grip and the softness of her skin. For a moment, wild thoughts chased themselves through his mind until he pushed them away.

“Um,” he said. “Likewise.” She wasn’t going to rabbit on him, so what was step number two? He should have planned this better.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and spend your dad’s money.” She turned on her heel and walked away, her head held high.

Jake stared after her. What the hell had just happened? That petite woman had just put him in his place.

His phone rang and he retrieved it from the holder on his belt. He glanced at the caller ID. Mel Vaughn, one of his particularly difficult clients.

He answered the call. “Mel.” Jake closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m buying my child’s mother a car,” Mel launched into his pitch. “I found this hot Ferrari that would be perfect for me—I mean her.”

“And where would she put a kid’s car seat?” Jake asked. He’d signed off on a SUV.

“Hey, man, the Ferrari is perfect.”

“I said you could buy a minivan or an SUV.”

“Minivans aren’t sexy,” Mel whined.

And being in debt to your hairline is? “I signed off on thirty thousand for a car. You have to stick with your budget.”

“I can’t think about a budget,” Mel whined again. “Have a heart.”

Mel Vaughn was twenty-six years old, but he was acting like a child. When he’d hit bankruptcy, the court had appointed Jake to unravel his finances. Now Mel wanted a Ferrari when he still owed the IRS a chunk of change.

Jake leaned against a fence as he watched Merry measure the diameter of a small children’s ride. Every time she bent over to measure something, his pulse leaped into overdrive.

“Mel,” Jake said patiently. “You can’t buy a Ferrari until after you pay the IRS your back taxes. If you buy a Ferrari after the deal I brokered for you with the IRS, they’ll come after you.”

“How are they going to find out?”

The first thing Mel would do was tweet his purchase, post a picture on his Instagram account and announce it on his Facebook page. “Do you think a high-profile case like yours isn’t going to be scrutinized? People care about what you do, Mel. And trust me, the IRS monitors everything. The purchase of a Ferrari will not stay a secret for long.”

“How am I going to explain it to her?” Mel asked, his whining going up a notch.

“Have her call me. I’ll be the bad guy.”

“But she’s got her heart set on this Ferrari.”

“Then she can pay for it. Thirty grand is all you’re getting. Because thirty grand is all you have to spare. You’re barely swimming above water, Mel.” Mel was starting his career all over again. “No Ferrari,” Jake said flatly. “Don’t ask me again.” He disconnected, not wanting to hear Mel continue to beg.

When Jake had decided on finance for his career, he’d thought dealing with celebrities would be glamorous and fun. But the reality was much harsher. He loved his job, and he loved the challenge of fixing people’s broken finances, but he didn’t always like the people.

His gaze landed on Merry again. She’d moved on to another ride and stood in front of it with her sketchbook cradled in one arm while her pencil moved up and down. Jake studied her, wondering what her finances looked like. She must have socked away some money, since her series had run for five years until both she and her costar had grown out of their parts. She’d done a few movies afterward, but nothing in the past decade. She drove a Prius. In a background check, he’d found out she’d been transitioned to working in the Chapman Brothers theme park as an assistant set designer, since that seemed to be something she’d enjoyed, but most of her background was a big question.

She knelt down in front of an orange tree. She measured the base and made a note in her sketchbook. Even though she was dressed in a practical manner, he could see that her jeans were well made, and though not high-end designer jeans, they weren’t something she’d picked up at a discount department store.

“Jacob,” his father said. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Caught by surprise, Jake forced his attention away from the distracting woman to his father. “Got here a few minutes ago.”

His father gave him a shrewd glance. “Pretty, isn’t she?”

Jake pulled his gaze away from Merry to look at his dad. “I thought we had agreed to sell the park.”

His dad’s gaze darkened. “I changed my mind,” he said defiantly. “I don’t want to sell.”

“Dad, I know you didn’t care much for Harry Constantine. He can be a bit of a hard-ass, but his offer is a good one. If you don’t like his offer, Alicia Mortensen at Kessler Investments is interested. I’ve had a number of other queries about this property.”

“I don’t want to sell,” John said, a mulish look on his face.

“This park hasn’t done more then break even in years. People who come to Los Angeles go to Chapman Brothers, Knotts Berry Farm, Universal Studios or Disneyland. They don’t come to Riverside.”

“I’m not looking to attract the international traveler. A lot of local people can’t afford a hundred bucks to get into a big, fancy park. For a family of four, that’s four hundred dollars. That was my house payment when your mom and I first got married, and that was high-end. Locals can come here for thirty per person, have a great time and go home feeling like they haven’t dropped a bundle. I’m not looking for the international traveler, but the local people who don’t want to compete with the whole world for a day of fun.”

“I think you’re making a mistake, Dad,” Jake said wearily, yet still determined to make one last pitch. “You can’t compete with the big people, and I don’t care how cheap you make it.”

“I never wanted to be a big-ticket park.” His father shook his head. “Do you think people don’t remember Citrus Grove? Half the people who work here were attendees before they ever got a job here. And a lot of people come because their parents came here. We are about family memories. We’re a vital part of this city. I never expected you or your sister to take over the park. It was never your thing, but John II loves it here. He’s the future. He’s why I changed my mind about selling.”

“But Dad,” Jake said in the soothing tone he used on his more agitated clients, “you’re sixty-seven.” I’m not giving up, Jake thought, just making a strategic retreat. Though he had to admire the passion in his father.

His father’s gaze rested on Merry. “Sixty-seven is the new forty,” his father retorted. “I don’t want to retire, Jacob. I want to get up every morning and find new ways to make people happy.”

In his pocket his phone vibrated, but he ignored it. It was probably Alicia Mortensen; she didn’t like being ignored. “Don’t you want to sit back and have some fun?”

“I am having fun. I’m having fun with my grandkids. I’m having fun with my customers. I’m even having fun with Miss Alcott. You see her over there,” John continued with a broad smile. “She’s having fun, too.”

Jake followed his father’s gaze. “She’s measuring a tree.”

“Even the tree knows how to have fun, unlike you.”

“I know how to have fun.” He tried to think of the last time he’d actually had fun that didn’t include a neurotic client. He came up blank.

“Really,” John said, with a piercing look at his son.

Merry glanced up and waved at John. John waved back, his face alight with happiness. For a moment, Jake was transported back to his childhood, going round and round on the carousel. He’d been happy at that moment, but even then he’d known the park wasn’t his destiny. He’d always wondered why the magic of the park had never worked for him or for Evelyn.

“Miss Alcott is a retired child actress,” Jake said.

“If I remember correctly, you never missed that show she was in,” his father said with a grin.

Jake stirred uncomfortably. Sometimes his father remembered the oddest things. “And you could be sailing off into the sunset in that boat you’ve never used.”

“Not yet. I have plenty of time to sail my boat.” John’s gaze rested on Merry as she held her sketchbook, her hand moving rapidly.

“Maybe it’s those dark circles you have under your eyes, old man,” Jake said. “You look tired.”

“I’m not sleeping because I’m excited about the prospect of revitalizing this park. You should take a look at her drawings. She has a vision for what the park is eventually going to look like,” John said. “And I’m not just talking about Christmas.”

Jake said nothing. Merry had moved over to the go-kart track, and stood beneath the shade of a palm tree. She’d retrieved a camera from her pocket and was taking a photo of the track. Then she returned to her sketchbook.

He wasn’t winning this battle, but he could still win the war. Maybe what he needed to do was play along for the moment. With the new improvements, the price could go up. He could still win this. He just needed to keep his hand in everything. “You’re right, Dad,” Jake conceded. “Let me help you. I’ll oversee the money. Keep everything on budget.”

“I’ve been handling my own money since you left for school.”

“Handling money can be a burden. Let me take that burden off your shoulders so you can concentrate on the park and have more fun with Evelyn and your grandchildren.”

John glanced at his son, indecision on his face. “I never made you work in the park when you were a kid because you just didn’t have it in you. But I’m going to accept your offer with gratefulness and gracefulness. Because it will make you feel better if you can keep an eye on me. If you want to pretend I’m a drooling, addlepated old man, that’s okay with me.” He turned around and left, whistling as he sauntered down the path toward the carousel.

Jake watched his father leave, knowing he hadn’t fooled the old man, but he did feel better. This way he could keep Merry from frittering the money away on stupid stuff.

* * *

Merry sketched out an idea for the center island of the go-kart track. In her mind’s eye, she could see a huge Christmas tree, bright with lights and large ornaments. Stacks of large boxes wrapped in different colors with bows decorating the tops could be strewn beneath the branches. Maybe a big fluffy dog hidden behind the boxes would add interest.

She moved along the edge of the go-kart track, ever conscious of Jake Walters’s gaze on her. He’d be really hot if he wasn’t such a stick-in-the-mud. If only he would smile. He had a nice face and handsome eyes, but the austere expression and the rigid way he stood made him seem distant and aloof. She took out her tape measure and measured a section of fence surrounding the track. She entered the dimensions and then counted all the sections. She doubted she’d string any Christmas lights around the bars, but it never hurt to have a complete picture of what she could do.

She glanced at Jake Walters standing by the flagpole, watching her. His head was tilted to one side as he listened to his father. Despite John’s enthusiasm, she could see that Jake didn’t share it. His body was stiff and unyielding and he clearly didn’t want to listen to his father. John’s body was loose and flexible as he gestured with his hands. She could see enthusiasm in every mannerism John exhibited. She didn’t understand why Jake didn’t get it. This park was magical in its own way. Not like the others, but in a more down-to-earth manner.

John walked away whistling, leaving Jake standing by the flagpole. Merry knew Jake wanted his father to sell the park, and he would probably do what he could to talk John into accepting the terms of the sale. Just from the way they stood, she could tell they were both determined men. Maybe accepting this job wasn’t the smartest move on her part; she’d better start thinking about contingency plans. She still had contacts at Universal Studios from her intern days, and they’d start shooting the midseason replacement shows soon. She’d worked for them for a year before the Chapman Brothers had come back to her with a better offer, but now that she’d ended that association she’d better start thinking ahead again.

“My father says you’ve done some drawings to show your plans for the park. May I see them?” Jake asked.

Merry started. He’d crept up on her while she’d been caught in her thoughts. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “Come on.” She led the way back to her dingy little office.

She spread the plans out across her desk and drawing table. She rubbed her thumb nervously against her thigh. He hadn’t said a word; he simply stared at them, thumbing through the drawings.

She was deeply conscious of how he made her office seem smaller and even more dingy. He was a man who overpowered a room.

He didn’t say anything for the longest time, simply glanced back and forth, his mouth pressed tightly shut. She wanted him to be impressed with her vision, but he seemed to become more and more distant.

“This is going to cost a lot of money,” Jake said after a long, uncomfortable silence.

“Yes, the initial outlay is going to cost. We have sets to build and costumes to make, but what I’m planning here is something that will be multifunctional. I’ll repurpose the same props for Easter, summertime, Halloween and then Christmas again. And your father gave me a budget. I think I can meet it and maybe spend even less if I can get a lot of local college students to help me with things. They get course credit and I get cheap labor.”

He didn’t say anything, and Merry waited uncomfortably. He looked skeptical. She racked her brain trying to think of the right things to say that would sway him. “I haven’t got a hope in hell in convincing you this is a good idea. Why did you even bother to talk to me?”

Surprise lit his eyes at her directness. “Dad is sixty-seven years old. He should be tuna fishing in Cancun or chasing nubile Tahitian girls.”

Her eyes opened wide. “Wow. Do you really think your dad wants to chase Tahitian girls? So we know how you intend to spend your retirement.”

“Hell, no, not me,” Jake said, shaking his head vigorously.

“Your dad has a lot of life left in him. Why shouldn’t he do what he wants to do?”

“Because this is a dying park.”

“No,” she said, “not dying, just a little lost. This park doesn’t know what it wants to be when it grows up.”

“And you do.”

She looked him directly in the eye. “Yes, I do.” She took his hand and tugged him toward the door. “Come on. I want to really show you my vision.”

She opened the door and dragged him out back into the park. “This park has so much potential. Nowadays, it’s not enough to just look pretty. You have to provide substance, too.”

“You can’t remake this park into a mini Chapman Brothers.”

He didn’t resist the pull of her hand, but she sensed he didn’t really want to come with her. Not that he dragged his feet like a child, but she felt that he had no enthusiasm for his father’s dream.