Page 2 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas

“Why not? I’ve never been to Oregon, and my parents are taking a month-long cruise through the European Christmas markets for the holidays.

They invited me to join them, but hard pass.

I love them, but a month, no way. Plus, I need a break from this.

” She paused, glancing behind her out the window where the growing gray clouds were devouring high rises. “We’re guaranteed snow, right?”

“Hold up.” Meg tried to wrap her head around the offer.

Johanna was New York through and through.

She lived for the club scene, nightlife, and different dates every other day.

“You really want to come to Bend? You know it’s a ski town in the Oregon high desert, right?

There’s no nightlife unless you count a sleigh ride under the stars or a snowy bonfire. ”

“Those sound great.” She smiled too broadly.

Meg didn’t like her off-kilter smile or how she strummed her fingers on her desk.

Did she have an ulterior motive? “Look, Meg, no one else will take this story. It’s the holidays, and we need this.

I have to demonstrate that this division—that extreme sports and personal interest stories are worth keeping.

I understand going home is complicated for you. ”

“Complicated?” Meg interrupted, her voice turning a tad shriller than she intended. “Come on, you know my story. It’s more than complicated.”

“Which is why I’ll come with you, for moral support.” Johanna stole a glance through the door to make sure no one was listening and then lowered her voice. “This stays between us, yeah?”

Meg nodded, suddenly very aware this was more than just a cute assignment wrapped in pink Sharpie doodles.

“Next week is big for me,” she said, her voice edged with something that sounded a lot like nerves.

“I’ve got the internal interview, and I have to impress them.

It’s high stakes. Things are… rocky, okay?

Rumors are flying about major layoffs and restructuring.

The whole doom-and-gloom package.” She paused and straightened her shoulders.

“There’s been talk of ‘going back to basics’ with a focus on stats and scores.

The holidays and this assignment are a perfect way to showcase the reach of what we do—to tug at viewers’ heartstrings and make them demand more stories that go deeper than the scoreboard.

I need this story to land. Hard. Full of sparkle, warmth, and charm.

Think Hallmark. I need you. Give it the Meg Reed magic.

We have to show them we’re not just essential—we’re irreplaceable. We’re the heart of this network.”

“Okay.” Meg swallowed. Great. This wasn’t just an assignment. It was a career lifeline—Johanna’s career.

No pressure. The future of their entire department was riding on her ability to turn an obscure winter sport that all of two people cared about into ratings gold.

Her stomach flopped, and not in a good way.

“Right. Got it,” she said, mustering a smile.

“Homey, holiday, Hallmark. Athleticism meets icy chaos. No problem. Totally not panicking.” She cleared her throat.

“Also, should we address the massive elephant in the room? Bend is Matt’s home turf.

We have this sort of unspoken agreement that he gets the Oregon high desert, and I get the entire eastern seaboard.

I haven’t seen him since we broke up. I can’t just go waltzing into Bend unannounced.

It’s a small town. Odds are very good—very, very good—that I’ll bump into him the minute I get off the plane. And it’s his birthday weekend.”

“I know. I know.” Johanna raised both hands in mock surrender.

“But remember, Jill’s already going to be there.

The three of us can hang our—girl gang energy, yeah?

” She gave Meg a look that said, No, I haven’t forgotten about Matt and his shiny new girlfriend, and yes, I realize how awkward this might be for you.

“We’ll run interference. No unexpected bump-ins.

We’ve got you. Come on, it will be fun. An adventure.

” She turned on the Southern charm again, sounding syrupy sweet, like thick honey pouring into a hot cup of tea.

“I can’t just show up and crash his party.”

“Crash it? I seem to remember you showing me the invitation a few months ago.”

“Figuratively speaking,” Meg corrected herself, feeling the same swell of longing and sadness she had when the glossy invitation showed up in her mailbox.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “He’s having a huge holiday birthday bash.

Forest formal, remember? At a snowy mountain lodge at Christmas.

Hosted by his girlfriend. His girlfriend.

She’s like a snow goddess, Bend’s heiress, his partner in crime at Blazen.

I can’t compete with that. Look at me.” She ran her hand over the fuzzy Christmas sweater.

“I’m wearing a freaking snowflake cardigan made by my grandmother. And I’m quite happy about it.”

“Stop. You’re adorable, and everyone knows it.” Johanna scowled. “Including you.”

“Adorable or not, Matt is with Lucinda now. She’s like a literal princess.

Trust me, I’ve stalked her social media.

The woman is a force of nature—stunningly gorgeous, a Rhodes scholar, she’s on every ‘Rising Corporate Stars to Watch’ business list. I don’t think I can face seeing them together and not feel like a complete loser. ”

“Have you sent your official RSVP for his party?” An unusual hint of caution crept into Johanna’s voice.

“Didn’t Jill, hmm, what’s the word I’m looking for?

” She stretched out a pause, letting the unspoken implications linger between them.

“Encourage you to at least respond. He was your best friend and boyfriend for years, and you’ve ghosted him for how long now? ”

“Okay, not ghosted. That’s not fair. It’s been cleaner, easier to give him space. You know, it’s, it’s—I…” Meg sputtered over her words. “I had this opportunity, and he wanted to stay in Bend and at Blazen. It’s fine. We both had to choose, and I chose this.”

Johanna had no retort to that. “I get it. That’s why I’ll come with you. Me, Jill, you. You cover the story, and then we’ll have the coziest little Christmas you ever did see.”

They both knew she had already won. Meg picked up the assignment sheet, studying the details, even though she’d already read the brief the first three times Johanna had asked her to take the story.

Bend was hosting the world championship snocross race.

The sport had grown wildly popular in recent years.

A mashup of snowmobiling and motocross, racers used snowmobiles on tracks at dizzying speeds of over sixty miles an hour, flying over hurdles, taking tight turns, navigating tough obstacles, and extreme jumps of thirty feet and higher.

The race would take place over three days, drawing the best snocross athletes and spectators from all over the country.

Normally, this would be just the kind of extreme sport Meg would be eager to cover.

But not this December. Not with Matt, the guy she had loved since college.

The guy she thought she would marry eventually.

The guy she was supposed to share a streaming account and fancy espresso maker with was celebrating his thirtieth birthday with a lavish party thrown by his current girlfriend.

Meg wanted to be anywhere but Bend, Oregon.

“Jill will be thrilled. Girls’ weekend?” Johanna added. “And save both our asses and jobs, please? Pretty please?”

Jill Pettygrove, Meg’s longtime friend, had been living in Italy for seven years.

Meg still couldn’t believe it had been seven years. She had once read an article about the fact that the body’s cells regenerate every seven years, hence the old saying, “the seven-year itch.”

The very skin Meg was walking around in was new. Completely unique from the skin it had once been. She sort of loved that thought.

And the thought of seeing Jill again was seriously tempting.

Jill had left for art school around the time Meg took the job writing for ESPN, met a dreamy Irishman, and made her stay permanent.

They’d kept in close touch over the years, visiting for birthdays and meeting up for spontaneous getaways.

But their little trio had never found their way back together.

Not after the breakup. Not after saying goodbye to Matt and an alternate life that might have looked very different than her life today.

Gam would remind her that every path was meant to meander.

And Meg had been meandering for years, carving out her own version of adulthood and constantly trying to ignore the lingering ache in her heart from losing the one person she had loved with deep and unbridled abandon—the one person who still felt like home.

“Okay,” she finally said to Johanna with a heavy sigh, barely able to believe she was saying yes. She wrapped Gam’s cozy Christmas sweater tighter, feeling a strange mix of trepidation and excitement start to build.

She was going to see Matt again.

In Bend!

Break out the big band Christmas carols.

Was this a mistake?

But what other choice did she have? Her job was on the line, and rent was due soon.

What’s the worst thing that could happen?

Ha! Famous last words.