I’d only heard of a few rare occasions when Silver & Prescott had agreed to meet a client away from our offices. However, she didn’t leave me much choice to say no, so I agreed, only mentally biting my nails. Because of that, instead of walking across town and entering the office at 8:00 a.m. on the dot this morning, I got up earlier than usual and made the almost two-hour drive to get to this place I’d never heard of. For a person who literally never does anything different, that sudden change to my schedule should’ve been the only strange thing to happen to me.

But of course, I should’ve anticipated that one bad surprise never comes alone.

Tall Guy looks exactly as I remember him, except his hair is shorter than when I last saw him, the waves a little tamer. Other than that, he has the same light-brown eyes that look like molten gold in the sunlight, the same large build that would make any man jealous, and the same golden-brown skin that has no right looking this good in late November. He’s also dressed in a completely different style. This summer he wore a dress shirt and nice pants, but here, it’s a flannel shirt and lumberjack boots.

What could he possibly be doing here, almost two hours away from the place where we first met?

Next to him stands a short lady who has the same brown complexion, dark hair, and warm-honey eyes. Beside her is a pale man with white hair and a bright blue gaze, standing up with a walker. The reason I’m here, I assume.

“You must be Ms. Lawson,” the lady says with a light accent—Spanish, maybe—which finally brings me out of my staring trance. Right. I’m here for a job. It doesn’t matter whether I’ve met Tall Guy before. Besides, he was so wasted that night, he probably doesn’t even remember me or the weird moment we shared.

“Yes, I am. And you must be the Scott-Perez family,” I say, closing the door of my sedan behind me and approaching them. The heels of my knee-high leather boots dig into the fresh snow as I look around, a literal winter wonderland of large evergreens covered in white powder surrounding me. I’ve never been to a Christmas tree farm before, and I had no idea a place could look so magical. The view is almost worth the long drive and the disruption of my usual habits. Almost.