Page 9 of The Naughty List

“If you’re good here, so am I,” I answer, sliding my jacket off and placing it on the back of the high top stool.

“I guess we’re staying, Tony,” Clara tells the older gentleman behind the bar.

He wastes no time, plopping a coaster down. “What can I get for you, sweetheart?”

Normally, being called a pet name like that by a man that doesn’t know me would give me the creeps, but the thick Boston accent paired with his stark white hair on his head and shiny gold band on his left ring finger tells me I’ve got nothing to worry about Tony.

“I’ll just take some water for now,” I tell him.

Glancing over, I see that Clara is drinking iced tea and the tension in my shoulders dissipates. People always get so weird when I tell them I don’t drink. You’d think I tell them I hate kittens and puppies with the looks I get.

The paper menu is one page front and back, but everything sounds so good.

“How do you choose?” I say, holding up the menu.

Turning to face Clara, I ask what her favorite is.

“I would honestly be okay with the antipasto plate,” Clara laughs. “But, Bennett swears the fettuccine alfredo is the best on this earth.”

“I’m an app girl too,” I tell her. “I was trying to decide if I wanted the bruschetta or arancini.”

“The arancini is,” Clara pauses, and puts her fingers to her mouth, making the “chef’s kiss” motion. “Wanna just split a few apps? I have a feeling we’re going to do more talking than eating anyway.”

“That sounds perfect,” I agree just as Tony returns with my water.

After we order the bruschetta, arancini, a double antipasto plate, and a strawberry lemonade for me, Clara shifts her body so she’s facing me now.

“Alright,” she chuckles. “What do you want to know?”

“Does Elliott hate everyone or just me?” The words leave my lips before I have the chance to give them a second thought. As soon as I say them, I wish I hadn’t. Clara has a coffee shop in town. She’s dating his brother. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she grew up here too. “I’m sorry. That was unprofessional of me. I asked you to lunch to ask you questions about the festival. I shouldn’t have asked about Elliott.”

Especially not when his parents are the ones signing my check.

“Just you,” she laughs. “Honestly, it’s the strangest thing because up until seeing you two go at it the way you did last night, I didn’t believe Elliott had a mean bone in his body. I’ve known him since I was eleven and I’ve never seen someone get under his skin like that.”

That doesn’t make me feel any better. In fact, I think it makes it worse. How the hell did I manage to piss off the town’s golden boy? I was sitting there, minding my own business, and he came up to me. I didn’t approach him. He’s the one that plopped himself down in the chair and started with his holly jolly bullshit.

Be professional, Tillie. You have a ten-year-old mouth to feed.

“I’m sure we just got off on the wrong foot,” I shrug, forcing a smile. Wrong foot, right foot, left foot… it didn’t matter to me. Elliott Winters was an entitled asshole. I sure as hell couldn’t say that to Clara though. “What I really wanted to talk to you about is the festival. Meri and Brighton told me a few things that were must haves, but I wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything missing from the list.”

I hand her the small handwritten note Meri gave to me during our meeting yesterday.

Toy drive

Ivy House hot cocoa bar

Santa and Mrs. Claus photos

Barn dance after 8 p.m.

Tree decorating contest

“I actually came prepared,” Clara says, pulling a pen out of her purse before unlocking her phone. “I have a list of businesses you can go to about Christmas tree sponsorships. Did Meri explain it to you?”

“A little,” I say. “She said she would take care of reaching out to the businesses though because most of them wouldn’t want to deal with someone they don’t know.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Clara says, putting her phone to the side. “The only other thing, I think, that’s missing from this list is the horse drawn hayride to the caribou. I know there will be a few in the barn, but there’s just something about climbing up into a trailer full of hay bales, past the trees, and out to the field. That was always my favorite part of the night. Everything you need to make that happen is already at the farm too.”

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