Author's Note: I've watched entirely too many Hallmark Christmas movies this fall, and this story is a product of my obsession. I hope you'll find that it's not nearly as cheesy as most of the Hallmark movies, but that it contains the same spirit. I have enjoyed writing this little piece more than any other story I've penned, and hope you enjoy reading it.

(Note that I switch from Piper to Alex's point of view throughout the story, so I hope it's not too confusing.)

When she was six-years-old, Piper Chapman wanted to be a teacher. (Ms. Chapman had a nice ring to it.) At ten, she wanted to hold the highest office in the land. (President Chapman sounded even better.) She realized at 14 that being a teacher would be lame, and becoming President of the United States was probably not going to happen, so she settled for becoming a doctor. (Dr. Chapman felt right.) However, at 20-years-old, Piper threw those occupational dreams aside and decided that she wanted to write for a living. She never thought she'd be a novelist or a journalist. To be honest, she didn't know exactly what she wanted to write, but she discovered that she had a special talent that could lead her to a lucrative career.

After interning at an advertising agency, Piper discovered that copy writing was what she wanted to pursue. A year later, she was hired by that same firm in Hartford as a junior copy writer, a job she quickly fell in love with and had high hopes for a promotion. Just as Piper was making strides in her second year at the ad agency, she received a phone call that changed the trajectory of her life.

"This should've been done a week ago." An exasperated Celeste Chapman put one hand on her hip, the other on her forehead. "A little higher on the right."

Piper ignored her grandmother's first statement and contained an eye roll, pulling a string of garland as high as she could around a white beam before securing it with a piece of twine. "That's as high as it'll go."

"Perfect." Celeste smiled before being overtaken by a deep cough.

Piper climbed off the step stool and handed her grandma a glass of water. "It's time to take your pills."

She gulped the water, and then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'll take them after I supervise you with that next strand of garland."

"Supervise? Is that what you call telling me exactly where every Christmas decoration should go?" Piper grinned.

"As a matter of fact, it is."

Save for a snowman figurine and a bowl full of candy canes, Piper had never decorated for Christmas. Her college dorm room had been too cramped, and over the past couple of years, she simply didn't have time to buy a Christmas tree and all of the trimmings. Besides, for as long as she could remember, Piper spent every Christmas at The Haystack Inn, a property that had been owned and operated by three generations of Chapmans since the early 1900s.

"I'm exhausted grandma, and if I'm this tired, I know you must be, too." Piper tossed a six-foot strand of garland onto an armchair. "I promise I'll wake up early tomorrow to finish decorating."

"Are you suggesting that we go to sleep now?" She popped three pills into her mouth, followed by a swig of water.

"I have to finish reviewing the books tonight," the blonde sighed. "If those aren't in order by the time the representative from the Huxley Collection arrives, you can kiss the deal goodbye."

"I thought that was your goal anyway." Celeste stood, quickly balancing herself against the bannister. Piper was at her side in an instant, cradling her grandmother's elbow until she was stable.

"I don't want you to sell this place, but I'm not stupid enough to sabotage it." She helped her grandmother down the hallway until they reached the first bedroom on the right.

Since Celeste's health had declined, she'd decided to move into the inn permanently so that she could tend to the guests and the upkeep of the inn without too much hassle. The low occupancy over the past year allowed both her and Piper to have their choice of rooms.

"It's not that I want to sell the inn, dear." Celeste climbed into bed with her granddaughter's help. "But you and your entire family have made it clear that none of you are willing to take it over. What else am I supposed to do?"

Piper pulled a quilt off the back of a rocking chair and tucked her grandmother in. "You're doing what you have to do; I know." She bent down and placed a kiss on her grandma's cheek. "Want me to turn off the lamp?"

"No." She shook her head and reached for a novel on the bedside table. "I'm going to read for a while. It's the new Dan Brown thriller."

"Ok. Good night." Piper gave her an affectionate smile before closing the door.

She padded down the hallway, turning the Bing Crosby record lower along the way and exhaling a long, worn-out breath. She pulled the curtains back and peeked outside, noticing the twinkle lights on the front porch and in the bushes, and she couldn't help but smile. She hadn't had time to put the lights up that morning, and she was grateful that one of the village's residents, Larry Bloom, had strung them before a snow storm would arrive later that night.

She picked up her phone, texting Larry her thanks as she made her way into the dining room, which served as her makeshift office. Piper was still upset that her father didn't think saving The Haystack Inn was important enough to take a couple of weeks off of work, which made it entirely up to her to give it a shot. She'd called her older brother to see if he'd be willing to split the time they'd need to be in Vermont to get things in order, but Danny was living his dream life in Australia, and like his father, wasn't willing to put in any effort to save the family's inn. That would be the first Christmas the family wouldn't spend at the inn.

Piper's phone buzzed, and she read a text from Larry. Want some company tonight?

Larry was a nice guy—she'd known him practically her whole life and had made out with him two Christmases in a row when she was in high school. Piper knew he had a crush on her, but she'd never considered a relationship with him because he had no desire to leave Essex. She never understood why anyone would want to live in a town with less than 2,000 people, so each time she left Essex, she had no problem leaving Larry, too.

I have to wrap my head around these numbers tonight, but thank you anyway, she typed.

Let me know if you get hungry—I made Italian wedding soup. Well, my mom did.

Thanks, Larry. Good night.

Piper cracked her neck and dove into three sets of ledgers that were all hand-written by her grandmother. Nothing was computerized, making it that much more difficult for Piper to understand the details of the inn's financials. All she needed was to present an accurate account of how the inn had fared over the past five years to the representative from the Huxley Collection, and Piper was sure they'd make an offer on the property.

Her grandmother was right: Piper didn't want to see the inn turned over to some corporation that cared more about profit than people, and she'd have a hard time personally trying to sell the property to anyone, let alone a hotel chain. For a split second, Piper even considered taking over the inn herself, but she had no idea how to run a business, and she doubted that her lackluster hospitality would serve the public well. Besides, what she'd witness the weeks leading up to Christmas was enough to make her run back to the big city as fast as she could.

The holiday season in Essex was like a Hallmark movie—every homeowner and business got into the Christmas spirit and decorated both the interior and exterior of their properties. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas Day, there were four official contests: Best Home Decorations, Best Holiday Cookies, Best Christmas Carolers and Fastest Sledder. The Haystack Inn sponsored the holiday cookie decorating contest and was a practice site for 'Carol & the Carolers,' a group of 60-something-year-old women who'd sang together as far back as high school. Additionally, for the past 20 years, her grandmother had hosted community breakfasts every Sunday morning so that the town leaders could discuss how the festivities would run that year. Piper had no idea how much time and energy her grandmother had expended over the course of her career, but she was quickly realizing that independently owning an inn came with more than just welcoming guests.

By midnight, Piper had the clearest picture she could of the inn's financials, and she needed to get some rest before the next day, which she knew would be long and tedious. There were a few e-mails she needed to respond to for work before calling it a night, so she made a cup of tea before cracking open her laptop and typing as fast as she could. Piper was grateful that her employer had allowed her to work from home for two weeks, but anything over that, she'd have to claim as vacation time.

Piper thought she was dreaming when a dark haired woman tapped her shoulder. "What the hell? Who are you?" She sat up and brushed her disheveled hair out of her face, feeling every muscle in her body ache as she straightened her back.

"I'm Alex Vause from the Huxley Collection," the tall, bespectacled woman said with a perturbed expression. "Are you Celeste Chapman?"

"No." Piper blinked several times before squinting at the grandfather clock in the hallway. "Is it nine o'clock in the morning?"

Alex looked at her watch. "Eight fifty-five. I'm early."

"Fuck," Piper mumbled under her breath as she realized that she'd fallen asleep at the dining room table, a puddle of drool crusting on a blue folder to her right. "Well then, since you're early, I'm going to get dressed and meet you back out here in ten minutes."

Alex creased her forehead. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Piper Chapman." She shook Alex's hand and looked her in the eye—the woman had gorgeous eyes. "Celeste's granddaughter."

"Pleasure to meet you." One side of her mouth turned upwards. "Oh, and you have five minutes, not ten."

"Right." Piper scurried down the hallway, peeking into her grandma's room to see that she'd forgotten to turn off her reading lamp. "Grandma?" She stepped inside as Celeste stirred. "Grandma, Alex Vause from the Huxley Collection is here."

"He's here?" Celeste sat up abruptly. "What time is it?"

"He's a she, and it's almost nine." Piper caught her reflection in the mirror, noticing that her hair had almost completely fallen out of her ponytail, and the other half of the drool that she'd seen on the folder was caked on her cheek. "I have to wash my face and change my clothes. Take your time getting up, and I'll take care of Alex."

"Wait, Alex isn't a man?" Celeste asked.

"Most definitely not." Piper grinned before shutting the door and walking hurriedly to her room.

Alex had never been fond of the holidays—they were a constant reminder of how poor she'd been growing up. She and her mom would get a screaming deal on a scrawny tree on Christmas Eve when the temporary transplants from upstate New York would pack up their flocking and netting gear and leave town. The only thing Alex had enjoyed was helping her mom make homemade ornaments out of popsicle sticks and leftover fabric; however, once she turned 13, Alex grew out of that particular bonding experience and lost all holiday cheer.

Despite never really getting into the Christmas spirit, Adult Alex appreciated the holidays if only for the parties. The older she got, the more sophisticated the parties became, and that year, she planned on hosting a party of her own. The last place she wanted to be in late December was in Bumfuck, Vermont, trying to strike a deal on The Haystack Inn.

Her job with the Huxley Collection sent her up and down the Eastern seaboard, often to small towns, to acquire motels, hotels and inns that were on the verge of bankruptcy. She hadn't visited any of those properties so close to Christmas, and she'd be lying if she said that The Haystack Inn wasn't at least charming at that time of year.

Decorations aside, the inn had good bones—heart-of-pine floors, tall, white beams, a huge river rock fireplace and antique furniture strewn about the lobby. Her research informed her that there were eight rooms in the main house and two carriage houses, each with four rooms. There was one cottage that rented as a singular unit with two bedrooms, a fireplace and a Jacuzzi tub in the master suite.

She watched the pendulum in the grandfather clock sway from left to right and touched the angel ornament hanging from the gold key in the clock's door, when Piper breezed in wearing jeans, a pink sweater and a Whalers ball cap.

"Sorry about that."

There was something about the blonde that Alex found both adorable and irritating at the same time. "Is Celeste joining us?"

"She'll be here soon." Piper shoved one sleeve past her elbow. "Can I get you a cup of coffee or hot chocolate?"

"Coffee would be nice." She followed the blonde into the kitchen. "This place isn't exactly the easiest to get to."

Piper reached for the French roast, and the hem of her sweater inched up, giving Alex a quick glimpse of skin. She adjusted her black frames, but didn't avert her eyes.

"That's part of what makes the inn so appealing." The blonde poured the coffee grounds into a filter.

"So it seems." Alex took a step towards her. "Want me to fill the pot with water?"

"Yeah, thanks."

The women met eyes for the second time, and Alex could see her bright blue irises much better this time.

"Do you live here with your grandmother?" She turned on the faucet.

"No," Piper quickly replied, as if that was the most outlandish thing she'd ever heard. "I'm only helping out for a couple of weeks. The holidays are hectic around here."

"Celeste seems eager to sell, and we don't need this place to be in tip-top shape in order to make an offer." She handed the full pot of water to the blonde. "So if you're trying to do last minute upgrades, it's not necessary."

Piper turned the coffee maker on. "It's not that…" she hesitated.

"It's not what?" Alex pulled out a stool and sat across from the blonde.

"I'm not here to make this place easier to sell." She put both hands on the edge of the counter and leaned forward. "I'm getting my grandmother's financial records in order so that I'll know if you're trying to screw her over."

Alex pulled a face. "Ok, then."

"I'm the only person in my family who doesn't want to see this place turn corporate." She pushed off the granite, leaning against the counter behind her.

"Do you know anything about the Huxley Collection?" she asked, admiring the way Piper filled out her jeans.

She shrugged. "What's there to know?"

"Although we're a publicly traded company, our mission is to keep the properties we purchase almost exactly as they are." She raised her eyeglasses to the top of her head. "We make necessary improvements, but it's not like we're the Hiltons coming in to make every room look identical."

"What about the people who work at these properties?" Piper questioned, reaching into another cupboard to get two coffee mugs. "Do you keep them on the payroll?"

"Oftentimes, yes." She looked at Piper's left ring finger to find it empty. "If they're doing a good job."

She grabbed the creamer out of the refrigerator, and Alex got a nice view of Piper's backside. "How would you know if they're doing a good job if you just swoop in for a couple of days to check things out?"

"I don't just 'swoop in.' We send mystery guests to each property at least twice, plus we take the owner's opinions of her employees into account before making any hiring or firing decisions."

"I see." Piper bent down and seemed satisfied that the coffee maker had produced enough to pour two cups.

"We're not the big, bad corporate wolf that you're making us out to be, Piper." She stood and joined the blonde next to the coffee maker. "I hope you'll see that by the end of my stay."

"Me, too." Piper met her eyes once again before pouring their coffee.

"Good morning. I'm terribly sorry for being late." Celeste ambled into the kitchen. "That is not usually the case."

"I'm in good hands," Alex replied, eyes still attached to the blonde. She shifted her attention to the older woman. "You must be Mrs. Chapman."

"Please, call me Celeste." She shook her hand. "I'm glad Piper has treated you well so far." Celeste turned to her granddaughter. "Did you offer Alex some scones?"

The blonde poured creamer into her mug. "I haven't had a chance to make them this morning."

"I'll whip up a batch while Piper takes you on a tour." Celeste pulled out a glass jar filled with what appeared to be flour. "Is that alright with you?"

"Sure." Alex sipped her coffee, eyes back on Piper. "Maybe you could show me to my room first."

"Oh, right." The blonde grabbed her mug and walked back into the lobby. "Where are your bags?"

"On the porch." She opened the front door and wheeled in one bag, strapping a leather satchel across her chest. "So, the property was built in 1905?"

"Yes, by my great, great grandfather. He initially built it for loggers and their families, and then when skiing took off in the area, the Haystack became a place where people would stay to escape the crowds of Stowe, but they still had easy access to the mountain." Piper walked upstairs, and Alex followed closely behind. "Sorry, we don't have an elevator. Can I help with your bag?"

"I'm ok." She smiled.

"Each room has a theme," Piper began, walking past the Peppermint Room. "You'll be in the Angel Suite."

"That's a bit ironic," she let out a low laugh.

"Ironic?" Piper caught her eye, and for the briefest moment, the brunette wondered if they were thinking the same thing.

"Nothing…Thank you," Alex finished. "I'll drop my bags inside and be out in a minute."

"Ok." Piper folded her arms, and Alex wondered if she was perturbed that she hadn't invited her in.

The room was wallpapered in a floral pattern circa 1985, but the furnishings were mid-century and held a sort of rustic charm. Alex looked to her left and saw a miniature Christmas tree strung with colorful lights. My very own Christmas tree. She placed her suitcase on a chair and then walked over to the bed, where there was a handmade quilt covering the surface. She fingered the blanket and took a big whiff of the room. It smelled like cinnamon sticks and pine cones. Alex was instantly transported to the one camping trip she and her mom went on around Thanksgiving when she was 12-years-old. She'd never forget that smell.

Piper tapped on the door. "You almost ready?"

"Yeah." She looked at herself in the mirror, ran her fingertips through her hair, and met Piper in the hallway. "I'm all yours."

A smile crossed the blonde's face as Alex took a step closer.

Piper couldn't help but notice the way Alex moved—she was all confidence and femininity, but there was something else about the dark haired woman that Piper couldn't quite put her finger on. It was far too early to know if she could trust Alex, which was why she'd wanted to understand as much about the inn as she could prior to Alex's arrival.

"Is anyone staying here right now?" Alex asked as they walked out of the main house.

"We have a couple from Toronto staying with us through Christmas Eve, and another guest checking in right after Christmas," she replied, turning towards the back of the property and zipping her coat. "You might want to bring a hat next time."

Alex tossed her hair over her shoulders, giving Piper a strong whiff of her shampoo or perfume. She smelled like sugar cookies.

The brunette smiled, pulling on her leather gloves. "I'll remember that next time."

There was something hypnotic about Alex's smile.

They skirted the edge of a pasture as Piper pointed to the first landmark. "That barn on the left is home to a pair of Percheron horses, Ebony and Ivory. They're teamed-up throughout the winter for horse-drawn sleigh rides. During the summer they take tourists around the Square."

"Does your family own them?"

"No, but we own the land." Piper tied a scarf around her neck. "It's cold this morning."

Alex shoved her hands into her coat pockets. "I should've brought my coffee."

"I'll take you to the Gingerbread Café after this, and you can get a cup there."

She smiled again. "I'd like that."

"This is the carriage house." Piper stuck a key in the door. "You're welcome to go in any of the rooms."

The brunette walked inside, and Piper watched her long legs glide along the hardwood floors. Alex's heels were totally inappropriate for the weather in Essex, a fact that Piper felt the need to point out. "Did you bring something other than heels?"

She looked at her feet. "I don't plan on going snowshoeing or anything."

"I'll take that as a no." Piper leaned against the doorframe, and Alex eyed her up and down.

For a moment, the blonde felt self-conscious, but she found herself surprisingly aroused by the other woman's stare. Piper pushed herself off the frame and walked back outside. "Take your time; I'll be out here."

The cold air smacked her in the face, and Piper took a few deep breaths. Alex was an attractive woman, hot even, and the way she looked at Piper made her pulse quicken. The blonde had been attracted to women in the past and even dated one her senior year at Smith, but she didn't consider herself gay. She hadn't used the term bisexual to describe herself out loud, but that was most definitely what she was.

"When was the last time the rooms were updated?" Alex asked as she stepped back outside, shutting the door behind her.

"You'll have to ask my grandmother." Piper walked a few steps ahead, careful to avoid looking too closely at the woman next to her for fear of blushing at her recently discovered attraction. "I'd assume the late 80s."

"Sounds about right." The brunette's heels clicked against the pavement.

"You're lucky." She could feel Alex's eyes on her but didn't turn around to confirm.

"Why's that?"

"Mr. Ellis must have cleared the snow on the walkways this morning." She headed to the next cottage and hopped up the three steps.

Alex followed her onto the porch. "I'm assuming he works for your grandmother?"

She nodded. "He's maintained the property for as long as I can remember." She slid a key in the door. "Those shoes wouldn't stand a chance if Mr. Ellis hadn't gotten here before you did."

"I'm detecting a slight obsession with my footwear." Alex smirked.

Although she tried to look away, Piper couldn't help but admire the brunette's half-smile. "I worry about the practicality of heels around here."

She took a step closer and replied in a husky voice, "I'll be fine."

Piper gulped and blinked heavily as she stared at the other woman's full lips.

"If you take me on some off road adventure, maybe I could borrow a pair of boots. It looks like we might wear the same size."

"I'm a nine, nine and a half." The blonde stepped aside and allowed Alex to enter the Sugar House.

"I'm a 10, but that should work." Alex scooted past her, brushing against her body in the tight doorway.

Piper wished they didn't both have on thick coats. She cleared her throat, eager to get on with the tour. "This is the Sugar House—people who rent this cottage have access to the whole place."

There was a full kitchen, and the living room had a soaring cathedral ceiling with exposed beams and views overlooking the barn and the old covered bridge.

"It's beautiful." Alex walked around the vast room, and then into both bedrooms. "You're severely undercharging for a place like this."

Piper folded her arms. "I'm not the one who sets the prices."

"We'll take care of that starting as soon as February 1." Alex smirked again, but it was more sinister than it was sexy, and the blonde didn't like it one bit.

She turned and headed back into the cold. "We'll see about that."

The women remained mostly silent as they toured the rest of the property, and Piper wondered if Alex's flirtations had been for show. After all, Alex was there on business, not to charm the inn owner's granddaughter.

"It's frozen over now, but this is the trout pond. When my grandfather was alive, he'd have fishing supplies in the Main House for guests, but he passed away ten years ago, and my grandma stopped providing that."

Alex approached the edge of the pond. "Is it thick enough to skate on right now?"

"Want to find out?" Piper asked with a smirk of her own.

Alex lifted her eyebrows and looked away, which was precisely the reaction Piper wanted out of the her. "I'm not an ice skater, so it doesn't really matter."

For a moment, Piper felt guilty about the way she was treating Alex, but she didn't want to be bamboozled by the business woman who clearly knew how to use her charisma to get what she wanted.

She pointed to the woods behind the pond. "There's a path back there to the Valley Trail, which spans across the Deerfield Valley. You can cross-country ski, snowshoe and hike for miles." The blonde looked at Alex's feet again. "It's also a shortcut to the café, but I'm assuming you don't want to ruin your Louboutins or get your feet wet with snow."

"You assumed correctly," Alex replied, gazing up at the tall trees. "We can skip the café. I'll just head back inside and talk business with your grandmother if that's alright with you."

Piper headed back in the direction of the main house. "Sure. I have work to do anyway."

"What do you do when you're not helping your grandmother at the inn?"

The blonde bent down to tie her shoe. "I'm a copy writer for an ad agency."

Alex seemed impressed. "In Connecticut, I assume?"

"How'd you know?" She stood and continued walking.

Alex jutted her chin out. "Whalers hat."

"Oh." Piper touched the brim of her hat, remembering that she'd thrown it on in her haste to return to Alex in the lobby earlier that morning. "I work in Hartford, but grew up in Fairfield."

They walked inside the back entrance, and Piper unzipped her coat and hung it on a hook. Alex followed suit.

"Where do you live?" the blonde asked, making her way to the kitchen.

"Manhattan."

Before Piper had a chance to comment on her appreciation for Manhattan, her grandmother greeted them. "Scones will be done in five minutes. How was your tour?"

"It was good." Alex picked up her coffee mug and took a big sip.

Piper figured it must've been cold by that point. "I'll get you a fresh cup."

As Celeste and Alex talked, Piper refreshed the brunette's coffee and remained in the kitchen to hang on every word. She chanced a few glances at Alex, whose hair might as well have been featured in an Aveda ad.

The women ate blueberry scones, and Alex had two more cups of coffee before Celeste had a coughing bout.

"Excuse me," Celeste put her hand on her chest as Piper came to her side.

"Why don't you rest for a while." She rubbed her grandma's back. "I'll keep Alex company."

"You and I can catch up later." Alex stood and looked uncertain about what to do with a frail, elderly woman.

"I'll be right back." Piper made eye contact with Alex before walking her grandmother out of the kitchen.

Alex put her hands in her back pockets, stretching her shoulders and closing her eyes. She was beginning to think that Celeste didn't want to sell The Haystack Inn; rather, she had to. She looked around the kitchen and spotted four medicine vials on the counter. She picked one up and didn't recognize the prescription, so she tried another.

Piper stood in the entryway to the kitchen, arms folded. "Find something interesting?"

Alex put the container back in its place. "Your grandmother is sick."

"That's none of your business." She grabbed all four vials and took them into the back room.

"You're right: it's not." Alex sat back down, swiveling her stool as she watched Piper buzz around the room.

"Don't think for a minute that you're going to use her illness to snag a better deal on this place." Piper put her hands on her hips, and even though she was trying to be stern, Alex found her adorable.

"I wouldn't do that." She raised her hands in the air. "Even though I'm here for business, Piper, I'm not an entirely unfeeling person."

The blonde stared at her for half a minute, and Alex wondered if Piper was trying to figure out her motives. Truth be told, Alex didn't have any ulterior motives—she was there for business, but she wasn't going to try to screw the old woman over. She'd made hundreds of deals like this and had never been emotionally invested in the lives of the inn owners—she couldn't be; otherwise, she'd fall into a trap of feeling sorry for them as they often had to sell property that had been in the family for decades.

"You said you had some work to do." Alex stood, crumbling her napkin before throwing it into the trash can next to the kitchen island. "I should put in a couple of hours, too, so I'll just head to my room."

Piper clenched her jaw, and the brunette could tell she wanted to say something, but words didn't come out.

"I'll be down later." With that, Alex retreated upstairs.

She closed the door, shut her eyes and leaned her back against it. Alex knew herself well enough to know that there was the potential to become captivated by Piper, so she vowed to keep things above board and focus on the reason she was there to begin with.

She changed into jeans and a lightweight sweater before searching her luggage for a different pair of shoes. She'd only brought the heels she'd worn on the plane and a pair of suede boots. She laughed at her insensible packing before shutting her suitcase and opening her laptop. If she wanted to walk around town comfortably, she'd have to borrow a pair of Piper's shoes. That seemed like too intimate of a request, so she decided that when she'd eventually stroll around town, she'd stay on the groomed sidewalks and be just fine.

Alex had returned a handful of e-mails and began typing her notes about The Haystack Inn when she heard a soft knock on the door. "Who is it?"

"It's Piper."

She opened the door with a quizzical expression on her face. "Did I leave something downstairs?"

Piper stood in the doorway, arms folded and a despondent look on her face. "Lung cancer."

It didn't take long for Alex to register what the other woman was referring to. Before Alex had time to react, Piper wrapped her arms around her back and buried her head in the crook of Alex's neck. For a moment, the brunette didn't know what to do—she had just promised herself that she'd keep things strictly business, yet there Piper was, literally pressing her body into Alex's in a very unprofessional embrace.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she whispered, rubbing Piper's back in small circles. She heard the faintest whimper escape the blonde's mouth, and instinctively pulled her closer.

"This is…" Piper pulled back and rubbed tears from her eyes. "Sorry…I don't know what came over me."

"It's ok." Alex reached for her arm, the soft cashmere felt like silk on her fingertips.

"No, it's not." Once again, the blonde folded her arms protectively over her chest. "That wasn't why I came up here, and now I've made an ass of myself."

"You did not make an ass of yourself." Alex had every intention of asking why Piper had gone to her room in the first place, but she thought better of it. "Would you like to come in?"

She didn't respond; just took three steps inside the spacious room. Piper looked fragile in the middle of the room, and Alex could easily picture the blonde in that same spot as a child. She moved her suitcase to the floor, giving Piper a place to sit.

Alex perched on the edge of the bed. "How long has she been sick?"

"I don't know." Piper looked embarrassed by her lack of knowledge. "My grandmother has always been a very private person, and she didn't tell us that she had cancer until a month ago." She sniffed. "She called my dad right before calling me, and he refused to help, so I had to step in."

"That's why you're here?" Alex handed her a tissue.

She wiped her nose and nodded. "She wouldn't have called unless things were really bad."

"I really am sorry to hear that." She put a hand on Piper's knee and watched the blonde follow her motion. "Have you spoken to her doctor?"

She nodded. "A couple of days ago. The prognosis isn't good."

Alex sucked in her lips and leaned back, unsure of how to proceed. She'd never had a conversation like this with anyone, let alone a stranger. Piper somehow felt familiar, though she knew she'd never laid eyes on the blonde in her life.

"I'm not going to screw your grandma over," she tried with raised brows.

Piper blinked back a fresh set of tears. "This isn't some emotional plea for you to pity me; I just don't want her to be forced to sell the inn."

"I get that, but she kind of has to, right?"

The blonde stood and looked down at Alex. "Maybe I can take it over."

Alex lowered her head. The last thing she needed was for Piper to blow this deal. "Do you really think you're qualified to give this place the attention it deserves?"

She shrugged. "I didn't think I had it in me, but now that I'm faced with losing it in a matter of days, maybe I do."

Alex stood and walked towards the door, hand reaching for the knob. "I suggest you think long and hard about that before you make a decision that could wreck the rest of your life."

"I hardly think taking over my family's successful business would wreck my life." Piper stood in front of her, and Alex could smell the faintest scent of apple pie. She didn't have time to wonder if Piper had baked a pie in the last hour, or if it was perfume.

The brunette pursed her lips and glanced to the side, not believing how the conversation had turned. She returned her attention to the woman in front of her. "Successful? From what I gather, the inn hasn't been financially successful in well over a year."

"Maybe not from a financial standpoint, but my grandmother has influenced lives. In my book, that is success."

"I barely know you, Piper, so I'm not going to argue." She opened the door and stepped aside. "I've got some work to do, so if you'll excuse me."

Piper lifted her chin and appeared to examine Alex's face. The brunette bit down hard on her back teeth, flexing her jaw. On one hand, she wanted to grab Piper's smug face and kiss the living hell out of her, but on the other, she wanted to slap her for potentially ruining the deal. Judging from Piper's expression, she might have had similar thoughts. Instead of either woman making a move that they'd surely regret, Piper walked out of the room and headed downstairs.