Christmas Crush on Fireweed Island - Karice Bolton Page 0,1

and I certainly couldn’t make chocolates.

I worked twelve hour shifts at the hospital sometimes ten days straight. I couldn’t run a chocolate shop.

I had to sell it.

My sister’s eyes connected with mine, and I shrugged with uncertainty as the attorney continued.

With the one condition that Sasha Jones will learn all functions of the candy shop before she makes her decision to keep or sell it. For the first twelve days of the Christmas season, Sasha Jones must meet with someone of my choosing and learn one recipe a day. Upon completion, she can make her decision to do what she pleases with my beloved candy shop. If she refuses, the property will be turned over to my favorite charity, and she will receive nothing but love and eternal disapproval.

Sasha Jones will also become the adoptive mother to Francisco, my miniature poodle.

My family gasped.

Francisco wasn’t known to be kind to anyone but my aunt. I shuddered at the thought and closed my eyes as the attorney went on.

Renee Jones will receive my home on Hawthorne Avenue with the condition that she will let her sister, Sasha, live there during the month of December rent-free while she learns how to become a chocolatier.

To my darling brother, I give you unconditional love and five thousand dollars to fly you out to Fireweed with your lovely wife, Ellen, and my beautiful nieces to make sure the girls are settled in for Thanksgiving.

To Ellen, I give you five thousand dollars for putting up with my unruly and somewhat scatterbrained brother all these years. You deserve it.

Stanley will check in on December twenty-sixth to ensure that Sasha has completed her tasks and assist with whatever is needed surrounding her decision. Hopefully, it’s the right one.

Love to you all,

Phyllis Jones,

Lover of

All things chocolate

All things magical

All things Christmas

All things mysterious

P.S. I’d like that on my gravestone, Stan. I have a plot at Fireweed Memorial. Please have Ellen proof anything you approve before it goes to the engravers.

I hid a chuckle as my aunt’s voice rattled around in my mind. I could hear her reprimanding my dad as if she were sitting right here in this very room. Her spirit was as full in life as it was in death.

“If you don’t mind me placing you on hold, I will get my paralegal in here to take your bank information. We can wire the money over to your account today so that you can purchase your plane tickets and get everything sorted. I’m sure the tickets are hellacious.” The attorney shook his head and left his office.

I sat stunned as I thought about my aunt’s little candy shop. I’d never expected to receive anything other than maybe a book from my aunt. Not to mention, I’d expected her to live to be a hundred, at least, before I even had to worry about it.

I could tell my parents were staring at me, and I refused to give in and look in their direction. When the attorney and his paralegal returned, he asked if we had any questions.

I looked at the laptop and swallowed down the sudden wave of sadness knowing that Aunt Phyllis wouldn’t be waiting for us on Fireweed.

“Who’s going to be teaching me the chocolate recipes?” I asked softly.

The attorney rifled through some pages and shook his head. “Looks like I can only tell you that he will be arriving at eight o’clock in the morning on the first of December at the shop. The keys to the shop are at the house on Hawthorne.”

“What if he doesn’t?” I asked, squirming in my seat. “Show, I mean?”

The attorney smiled and nodded. “He will. He’s got Francisco.”

Chapter Two

November 25th

Fireweed was a brilliant spectacle of twinkling lights in the evening. Garlands and evergreen wreaths hung on the buildings. Gigantic red bows tethered across the street and tied to the lampposts rippled from the wind roaring off Puget Sound.

It hadn’t changed an ounce since I’d last been here several years ago, and seeing everything still didn’t put me in the holiday spirit.

The red bows overhead moved with another gust, and I shivered, praying they’d stay put.

I tied my bright-green scarf around my neck as I imagined the headlines. Arizona Woman Dies in Freak Christmas Garland Accident on Remote Island off the Coast of Washington. I even envisioned my body all tangled up in the red ribbon as rescuers came to my aid, but it would be too late.

Not how I wanted to go out.

And not exactly what I wanted to