From Festive Fever

CHAPTER ONE

EMERY

It’s not every day you meet a movie star.

At least not for a girl like me.

But thanks to my friend Krista, this weekend I’ll be surrounded by celebrities famous for their holiday movies at this year’s MerryCon—a fun-filled convention for the Christmas-crazed, romantic movie lovers of the world.

Which includes me because I can’t get enough of romance or Christmas.

Activity buzzes through the convention center as volunteers and vendors set up booths for the first day, holiday cheer ringing through the air. From my place in the volunteer line, I spy hundreds of snowflakes and ornaments hanging from the rafters while Christmas trees adorn the floor space. A winter wonderland meant to transport guests to the North Pole.

Enthusiasm pumps through my veins for the weekend to come, and I make a note to thank Krista again. As an early Christmas present, she’d signed me up to volunteer, hoping I’d get paired with my favorite actor: Calder Mayfield. Ever since he starred in my first Hallmark Christmas movie, I’ve been hooked—on him and the movies. A bevy of nerves flutters around my stomach at the possibility of meeting him.

Normally, I’m a practical kind of girl, understanding that the odds of matching with the man of my fictional dreams is as far-fetched as me managing to fit into size twelve jeans. But Christmas is made for miracles, right? Magic and miracles. So where’s the harm in a little dreaming?

Especially since I haven’t had much luck meeting a man in real life for years. Unfortunately, the majority of my time these days is spent working from home—not much of a chance bumping into the love of my life there.

“Next.” The woman at the check-in table motions me forward and asks for my name.

“Emery Michaels.”

Searching through layers of lanyards covered in reindeer, she pulls one out with my name and hands it over. “You’re in C13 with Thatcher North. Here’s a packet of instructions and the itinerary for the weekend.”

Butterflies of hope plummet in my stomach as disappointment takes their place. Not the best way to start MerryCon—having my dream of being paired with Calder dashed so soon. But I knew it was a longshot. At least I can still try to snag a meet and greet photo if I have free time.

Buoyed by the thought, I navigate my way towards C13. Arrows direct people to an area lined with booths, and mine’s empty except for a plastic container stacked on a table with two chairs. A backdrop of red and white stripes hangs behind the table, promoting a candy cane theme. Charmed by the sight, I smile and break the seal on the welcome packet to read what’s expected of me, the first sheet detailing how volunteers need to use the supplied holiday decorations to garnish the table. Seems easy enough.

Shrugging out of my cardigan before becoming a sweaty mess, I tug uncomfortably on my shirt, wishing Krista had chosen a men’s tee instead of the women’s when she’d filled out the volunteer form. This thin red fabric adheres to all the wrong places—emphasizing my roundness from breasts to hips. Attributes I’ve learned to flaunt to my advantage with the right clothing. But clingy tees are not it.

“Nothing for it now,” I mumble, resigned to my fate, before unpacking the box of decor. Christmas trees intermingle with a hodgepodge of reindeer, Santas, and village items, all needing to be organized in some semblance of order. “This will be fun…”

While in work mode, my mind wanders to Thatcher North.

He’s new to the made-for-TV romantic movies scene, but I’ve liked the two he’s made—one for Hallmark and the other for the Hearts of America Channel or HAC.

Though a bit older than I prefer my leading men, he’s still attractive with silver threading his dark hair and a beard shadowing his jaw. Don’t forget his eyes. Whiskey-colored and just as warm, defined by heavy brows. A ripple of awareness assails me as I catalogue his handsome features.

Good grief! What are you thinking?

Shaking off the strange reaction, I resume the task of table decorating, burying any inappropriate musings. A notification from my phone pops up with Krista’s name. “Hey, how’s it going so far? Meet any hot actors yet?”

Snorting in amusement at the message, I type out what’s happened so far, relaying the missed opportunity of being partnered with Calder.

“That’s too bad,” she sends with a frowny-face emoji. “But maybe you’ll run into him while on break!”

Ever the optimist.

Though it’s not far-fetched considering where we are. Bolstered by the possibility, a jaunty holiday tune hums in my throat. Who knows what the weekend has in store?

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