Page 36 of Unwrapped

“You mean you saw me talking. The man just stood there and grunted for most of the time. He’s nice eye candy though.”

“Federico’s smart. He was probably just busy surveying the crowd for threats.”

“Threats?”

“The MC has enemies. Dangerous ones. But don’t worry, dear. Now that Roque has partnered with Creed anyone who makes a move is as cooked as a Christmas goose.”

“This town sounds like it has all the makings of a good reality TV show.”

She clasps her hands, “I’ll tell the mayor. That’d bring a lot of press and commerce. We need both.”

“I was kidding.”

“Well, I’m not.”

She leads me to a cozy looking brick building with a bright red door. “Here we are.” I hand my coat over to a shy teen checking them and gaze around.

“How lovely.”

Poinsettias sit in the center of cute round tables draped in a tartan plaid tablecloths. Garden string lights hang from the ceiling in a crisscross pattern over the room. Heat comes from a woodstove tucked in a corner.

“Two?” Sally nods and our hostess takes us over to a window table and hands us a menu.

“Eat up. All proceeds are for charity.”

“I will.”

We share a pot of tea while our lunch is cooking. My eyes often straying to the window at the MC still hanging out around town.

“What are you doing in Springdale besides husband hunting?”

“Wow. That was direct.”

“I pussy-footed around for twenty-four hours. Spill.”

“I came to find Christmas. The kind I’d always dreamed of but never had. I also…need more. I love my job, but I need more. I need to do something else. It’s not enough. Most my friends have babies and husbands. I mean my life shouldn’t be defined by my relationship status. And it isn’t,” I pause lifting the steaming tea to my lips, taking a small sip. “I want to write children’s books. Fill their heads with dreams ripped from the pages.”

“Do it. Don’t wait for dreams that may never be. Life’s too short.”

“I need to find an illustrator. They’re expensive…. I could afford it,” I gesture with my hands getting excited, “but I want someone I’m comfortable with…someone whose able to create what I have in my head.”

“It sounds as if you already have a story?”

I bite my lip, opening my large Luis Vuitton bag, pulling out my leather-bound journal. “I like the feel of ink on a page. I’ve written two stories so far. It’s a series about a little girl on her quest against an evil queen. She has a magic horse who turns into a unicorn and flies her through the night sky.”

“Wow. I wish I had a unicorn.”

“Right? Every girl does.”

“Can…I ask you something? It’s personal but I’m curious.”

“Sure.” I shrug, cupping the warm teacup in my hands.

“How do you afford all that on your salary.” Her eyes move to my coat to my bag and down to my knee high Ugg’s.

“My mother was Lexi Whitmore.”

“No shit.”

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