A Seagrove Christmas (South Carolina Sunsets #6) - Rachel Hanna Page 0,7
thinking?”
“I don’t want her to think she’s gotten to me, but I might just have to talk to her. Something isn’t right.”
Julie couldn’t help but feel bad for Dixie. She was such an amazing person, and anyone who didn’t like her had to have a screw loose. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go get your nails done or something?”
Dixie smiled. “I appreciate it, honey, but I need to keep busy. I think I’m going to go in the storage room and go through that new shipment we got.”
“Okay, but if you decide you need to get out of here, I’ll mind the store.”
“I know you will. You’re an excellent business partner, Julie.”
She watched Dixie walk into the back room and decided she would go straighten up around the cash register. That area always seemed to get messy with coffee cups and stray pens.
As she walked behind the counter, a woman came in. She hadn’t seen her before, but that wasn’t unusual since tourists were always breezing through their quaint little town. Christmas time was her favorite time of year because it brought out many people in the holiday spirit. The town square was already decorated for the season, with lit-up garlands wrapped around the light posts, a nativity scene in the park area and lights strung in the trees dotting the area.
“Welcome to Down Yonder Books,” Julie said, as the woman entered. She was petite with dirty blond hair that was as simple as it was long. Her mother would’ve called it stringy, but Julie tried not to judge.
“Thanks,” the woman said quietly. She seemed anxious, almost skittish.
“Can I help you find something?”
“No thanks. Just looking.”
“Well, I’m Julie if you need anything,” she said, smiling. The woman glanced at her name tag for a moment and nodded.
“Thanks.”
She watched her walk around, occasionally touching a book and sometimes looking back at Julie. It made her wonder if the woman was planning to rob the place, but she had to believe that wasn’t true. Still, she monitored her as best she could just in case she was there for some nefarious reason.
A few minutes later, she walked up to the counter, no books in her hand. “You sell coffee?”
“We sure do. We have French vanilla, hazelnut, pumpkin spice…”
“You don’t sell plain coffee?”
Julie smiled. “Of course. What size?”
The woman leaned a bit and looked at the cups. “That small one.”
“Coming right up,” Julie said. She turned around and poured the coffee as the woman sat down at the table. Julie walked over and set it in front of her. “Are you new in town?”
She nodded. “Just visiting.”
“That’s on the house, then! Welcome to Seagrove.”
She smiled slightly. “Thanks. It’s my first time here.”
“You’re going to love it. Where are you staying?”
“At the motel down on route six.”
“Oh, that’s quite a way from here.”
“Yeah. It was all I could afford. I just came here to see some family.”
“I’ll tell you what… Why don’t you come stay at the inn I own with my husband? We’ll charge you the same price, but it’s a much nicer place and just over the bridge onto the island.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? You’d do that for me?”
“Of course!”
“But you don’t even know me.”
Julie smiled. “We welcome everyone to Seagrove, and a motel is no place to spend the holidays.”
The woman laughed softly. “It isn’t a very nice place.”
“Then it’s settled.” Julie picked up a brochure for the inn off the counter and handed it to her. “You go get your things and come on over to The Inn At Seagrove, okay?”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I just need one thing from you.”
She looked a little hesitant. “What’s that?”
“Your name?”
The woman chuckled. “Tina. I’m Tina Hobbs.”
“Nice to meet you, Tina,” Julie said, shaking her hand. “And Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Tina said, beaming.
Chapter Three
Meg held onto her wiggly daughter, keeping her firmly planted on her lap and trying to smile. “Smile, Vivi…” she encouraged, as the photographer tried in vain to get a good family Christmas photo. So far, he’d gotten a picture of Meg chasing Vivi, followed by a photo of Vivi’s behind sticking up in the air while she put her hands in the dirt next to the bale of hay they were sitting on.
“Come on, my darling,” Christian urged, his thick French accent still so attractive to Meg. She would never tire of hearing him speak, even when it was the most mundane of sentences. She even loved hearing him order fast food at the drive