Free The Holiday Hoax by Jennifer Probst Page A

the holiday merriment. She’d always loved Christmas; it was a time of hope. The end of a year and the beginning of new possibilities stretched before her. She was going to get a gorgeous tree and decorate it with lights and tinsel and drink eggnog in the dark. Maybe she’d try writing in a journal and list all her goals for the new year. She’d read the suggestion in one of her self-help books and felt ready to take the plunge.
    She picked her way past giant, perfect trees—the sharp scent of pine mixing with the wind. At the end of the row, tucked in the back, completely isolated from the other trees, she found it.
    The perfect tree.
    It was horrible. Sparse branches stuck out at odd angles and bent sadly downward. The trunk was crooked, like an old woman who turned the wrong way and got stuck. This tree symbolized everything the holiday did not speak about: the lonely, the isolated, the hopeless. A tree trapped among the beauties, waiting for someone to love it and bring it back to life.
    She walked over and gently touched one of the branches, wondering how she was going to get it in her car without damaging anymore of the twigs. Then came a voice.
    “You’re not taking that tree, are you?”
    She turned. Her gaze met and locked with a pair of gorgeous golden eyes that reminded her of one of the big jungle cats she’d seen at the Bronx Zoo. One brow arched in question at her selection. Isabella immediately grew defensive.
    “Why? Does someone else want it?”
    A slight smile played about carved, sculpted lips. A shiver ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “Don’t think so. Couldn’t give that one away. Was going to put the tree back on the truck and take it back from wherever it came from.”
    She decided she didn’t like him, even though he was pretty much male perfection in the making. “Well, I’m buying it.” She straightened her spine and gave him her cold, disciplinary teacher look. “How much?”
    The man took stock of her and the tree. Then pulled off one work glove to scratch his head. A stubborn blond curl fell across his forehead, reminding her of Robert Redford in her favorite movie, The Way We Were . She pushed the annoying thought away. “Hmm, let’s see. I’d say $100.”
    Her mouth fell open. “A hundred dollars? That’s highway robbery. You were going to get rid of it. You should give it to me for free.”
    He crossed his arms. The red plaid flannel shirt stretched to accommodate lean muscle. Worn, faded jeans clung to his thighs. Isabella cursed herself for even wondering about his butt. He spoke in a fake drawl that seemed to mask a city accent. “Well, seeing you’re interested in the tree, I need to charge you. And I work on commission. How about seventy- five?”
    She stuck out her chin and stepped in front of the tree like she was guarding a little pig from the Big Bad Wolf. “Absolutely not. If you were going to dump it, anything you get is extra. I’ll give you twenty.”
    He seemed to consider the offer, then sadly shook his head. “Sorry, just can’t do it. Can’t take less than fifty.”
    Isabella simmered with temper. This nasty male model was arrogant; she’d be damned she give him what he wanted. He probably thought she couldn’t bargain as a woman. She pulled on her internet resources for buying cars and decided she had to be willing to walk away. “Twenty dollars. No more or I’m walking.”
    Mischief lit amber eyes and something else she couldn’t name. Some simmering sexual tension that caught and held her in his spell. “I’m truly sorry, ma’am. Can’t do it for under fifty.”
    “No deal.”
    Her fists clenched in temper. There was no way she was paying $50 for a sad tree that could fall apart once she got it home. He deserved to get nothing for the tree. What did she care if he threw it back on the truck? He was mean spirited and she refused to argue.
    Isabella turned and walked away. She waited for him to call out, “Wait,”