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My feet ache from the blisters that I got from wearing Halley’s old boots around all day. Even though I took the elf hat off hours ago, I can still hear the constant ringing of jingle bells. I am not feeling very merry about that at the moment.

Bah humbug!

I glance at my watch. I told Kash I’d meet him in the studio if I got done before nine. It’s just past eight now. I wish we could just take the night off and sip hot apple cider and watch a classic Christmas movie, but his deadline is coming up quick. We don’t have time to take it easy.

While I might not have a lot of energy left to give, I can at least show up.

Ten minutes later, I push open the recording studio door. Kash is sitting in a chair with his back to me, his electric guitar in his lap and a pair of headphones over his ears. I close the door on a gust of wind, and he shivers before turning to face me.

“Hey,” he says, his smile lighting up the room.

I’m like a solar panel, soaking in the rays and converting them to energy to repower my batteries. It’s not enough to get me through a 5K road race or a strenuous Christmas cookie-decorating marathon, but it’ll power me through another writing session with Kash.

“Hey, yourself,” I say.

I hang my coat on the hook by the door. When I turn around, Kash is there, ready to wrap me in his arms. We share a quick kiss, and then I sink into his embrace.

“Long day?” he asks.

“Mmm-huh,” I mumble into his chest. His T-shirt is soft as a pillow, and I close my eyes and savor this rare moment of rest. “How did the writing go?”

“Okay,” he says, but I can tell he’s disappointed with his progress by the flat tone of his voice.

“Wanna show me what you have so far?”

Kash nods and grabs his guitar.

I sit in the chair next to him and listen as he plays a catchy riff that reminds me of the opening guitar parts from “Footloose” and “Chattahoochee.” The longer I listen, the more I like it.

“I think that’s a great opening.”

Kash sighs a breath of relief. “I was hoping you’d think so.”

He plays me what he has for the chorus and some lines of melody that might work for the verses. We toss ideas back and forth, and by the time we have something that we’re both satisfied with, it’s already eleven.

“I have to be up early tomorrow to feed Dunder and Blixem,” I say, groaning at the thought of another predawn wake-up. I am so making Halley feed them on Christmas morning as a present to me.

“Hey,” Kash says, giving my knee a gentle squeeze. “Just worry about one thing at a time. And right now, that’s getting some sleep.”

December 16

We’re back in the studio again at nine a.m., and I’m hoping that we can make some more progress today. Kash and I have managed to work out most of the music for “Worth the Wait,” but we still need to finish the lyrics and lay down tracks for the demo. This song will need more layers and mixing than the other ones we’ve done if we want to give Kash the best shot at being selected as the headliner for the New Year’s Eve Ball. While the previous songs we’ve recorded for the demo were pretty bare bones, we’re both thinking we need to add more instrument tracks and some backing vocals to round out the sound and pump up the “wanna dance” factor.

Unfortunately, that’s going to take time, which I’m short on at the moment. It’s only a little over a week until Christmas, and Hidden Acres is hopping with customers from the minute we open until we lock up the gift shop for the night. Plus, I can’t seem to shake this nagging feeling in my gut that there’s some unexpected emergency waiting for me on the horizon, something that will pop up and pull me away right as we’re scrambling to finish the song by our deadline.

Ice storm?

Mouse infestation?

Stomach flu?

I know I can’t plan for every possibility, but that doesn’t mean I can’t put some guardrails in place to keep this train-beat song on track, just in case.

“I should show you how to do some basic mixing. Just in case I won’t be available to help as much as I’d like,” I say. “That way, you can add backing vocals and other tracks when I’m not around.”

Kash looks up from the sheet of paper where he’s been scrawling down lyrics.

“I haven’t done any mixing before,” he says. His lips press together with uncertainty.