Page 3 of Caught in a Christmas Conundrum

I snort and then look back at her.

Maybe it’s my imagination, but it seems like there’s a bit of panic in her gaze. She’s definitely not smiling.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I say, giving her my most charming grin.

As usual, she acts like she’s completely immune to anything charming that comes out of my body.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t do things like that anymore.”

I’m kidding, but her mouth drops open like there’s something sordid in my past she wasn’t aware of.

“Kate. We grew up in the same small town. You’ve known me since the church nursery. I’m not secretly a stripper.”

“Thank God,” she mutters. Then she takes a breath, as though marshaling her patience, and stares me in the eye. “Are you doing anything on Saturday?”

“I am. There’s a festival. Two, actually. Biggest day of the year for our town.”

“Would I be able to use some of your cooler space, at the very least?”

“At the very least? What are you trying to say?” That’s such an odd request and oddly phrased as well.

“All right. I’ll level with you.” She narrows her eyes at me. “If you agree to call a truce between our rivalry.”

We have a rivalry? I guess I have done some good-natured teasing after I win the barbecue contest every year, but come on. That’s what I do. It would be embarrassing if the caterer beat me. She doesn’t cook barbecue every single day of the year. I don’t either, but every time I cook, it’s usually some kind of hunk of meat on my smoker or grill, and I’ve got all kinds of homemade sauces that I slather on that stuff, and if I do say so myself, it’s pretty stinking good.

“I’m not saying anything until you agree,” she says, crossing her arms over her apron.

It’s too bad, because it’s cute.

I put my hands in the pockets of my apron, just in case she didn’t read it already, and I pretend to give it some thought. I’m just messing with her. I didn’t realize we had a rivalry. I don’t have the slightest bit of a problem calling a truce on it.

“All right. I suppose. How many days do I have to honor this truce?” I try to pitch my voice so that I sound annoyed.

“Until Saturday night at midnight.”

I pretend to think about it some more. She wants to call a truce for the festival. I’m dying to find out why. It’s all I can do to wait another five seconds before I slowly nod my head.

“All right. Truce. Now, spill.”

I say “spill,” because it’s something my little sister would say. I personally never use the word, but it seems like something that might resonate with Kate. And in all of our years, I’ve never found anything that resonates with her, not for me. She seemed to hate me, even before I beat her at the barbecue contest.

“I double-booked the festivals. Mrs. Brown is in charge of both of them this year, and she called me to book the Christmas Tree Christmas festival, and she called my assistant to book theChristmas Tree festival. We thought we were doing the same festival and didn’t realize until this morning that we’re not.”

“Oh, that’s fun,” I say, still not seeing how this affects me at all.

“I don’t have enough room to prebake everything. The menus are the same, I just need to get more ingredients. I’m not sure I’m going to have enough manpower to cook everything.”

I stare at her, nodding. It almost sounds like she wants me to help her. Really?

And then I remember why she insisted on the truce. Not that I ever thought we were fighting, but she wants me on her side. But only until Saturday.

That’s not nearly long enough. I have been angling for a while to try to get Kate to go out with me, but if she’s going to be nice to me until Saturday night at midnight, maybe, just maybe, I can figure out how to win her permanently.

three

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