He shivered as his dress shoes crunched in the fresh snow, making his way to the entryway of the large cape-cod styled inn that stood before him.  He turned the handle of the large glass front door, taking a moment to wipe the snow off of his shoes before entering in.  His eyes wandered around the lobby, which was lit almost entirely by tree lights and candles but seemed to be completely deserted.  He carried his luggage over to the front desk, peering around for any sign of another person.  He was about to ring the bell that sat on the desk when he heard a slight rustling noise coming from the large den that was adjacent to the lobby.  He followed the noise and stopped when he saw the branches of the large Christmas tree shaking.  He knitted his brow with confusion until he spotted a young woman on a ladder, adjusting the garland on the tree. 

“Hello?” he asked.  Her back was to him and she seemed to be intently focused on the task at hand, without even hearing him.  “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, her cheeks reddening slightly, as she turned around.  “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s alright,” he said, gently. 

“I was just trying to fix the beads.  They slid down and now the tree is off balance,” she said as she leaned over, her right hand reaching out to delicately realign the strands of beads on the tree branches.  “There,” she said, with satisfaction as she lowered herself down off the step-ladder and crossed her arms as she gazed up at the tree.

“That is a very nice tree,” he said, eyeing the ten-foot tree that stood in the middle of the large room. 

Her eyes wandered over to him, sparking with interest after recognizing him.  What was Justin Timberlake doing spending Christmas Eve at this inn on Nantucket?

“Welcome to the White Rose,” she said, giving him a warm smile as she made her way back over to the front desk.  He slowly followed behind her.  “Now, how can I assist you?”

He leaned his arms against the desk with exhaustion, “Just checking in,” he said, unbuttoning his winter coat and loosening the scarf around his neck.   

“Alright, what name is your reservation under?” she asked as she clicked the keys of her computer furiously.  She was positive there was no Timberlake reservation in the system, so he must be using some sort of an alias. 

He paused for a minute, scratching his chin.  His eyes squinted in concentration, but he said nothing. 

She looked up at him curiously.  “You did have a reservation?”

He nodded, “Yes.  I’m just trying to remember, I think…the reservations should be under the name…Randall?  Yes, yes, Randall…” he said, blushing with embarrassment.

She smiled at him as she looked back down and referenced the computer once again.  She stopped for a moment and then brought a hand to her cheek.  “Ohh…”

He brought his hands together, interlocking his fingers nervously.  “Ohh?”

 “It says here that the Randall reservations for two were cancelled three days ago on the twenty-first,” she said, biting her lower lip. 

He sucked in his breath, “Oh, right.  Of course she did.”

She tucked her hair behind hear ear nervously.  “Well, we still do have the suite available.  You can have the room.  It’s no trouble at all.”

He nodded, reaching for his wallet out of his pant pocket. “That’ll be fine.”

After swiping his credit card, she handed it back to him along with his room key.  “Alright, you’ll want to head down that hallway,” she motioned behind him, “And take the stairs to the third floor.  You’ll be in suite 3C.”

  He smiled at her kindness, “Thank you.  What did you say your name was?”

She grinned, “I didn’t say my name.  But you can call me Jaz.”

“Nice to meet you Jaz, I’m-“

“-Randall, right?” she said, her eyes glimmering with a touch of sarcasm. 

He laughed sheepishly, “You can call me Justin.”

She nodded, “Merry Christmas Justin.”

 “Thanks,” he said, pulling the handle on his suitcase as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.