Page 13 of A Very Crumbleton Christmas
‘I was hoping you might be up for turning on Crumbleton’s Christmas lights?’
‘Isn’t it a bit late for that?’ said Jack. ‘Christmasisin a week, right? Or have I fallen into some kind of weird vortex?’
‘I’ve had a few problems finding a special guest,’ huffed Caroline.
‘Well… I’m not sure I’m all that special,’ said Jack, folding his arms over his chest and holding her gaze. ‘I mean, I thought you found my last performance… how did you put it again…? Ah, I remember -“So wooden the trees in Crumbleton Clump have more star-quality.”‘
‘I… you… I…’ spluttered Caroline, the look of mortification firmly back on her face.
‘And then you gave me three stars,’ said Jack, fighting back a bubble of laughter, ‘for the fact that I spoke passable English.’
‘You… you…’
Jack’s grin finally broke through his stony façade, but going by the look on his guest’s face, it didn’t do anything to ease her horror that he really did knowexactlywho she was and what she’d written about him.
‘Yep,’ he said, unable to contain his glee, ‘I’m afraid I’m intimately acquainted with your writing.’
‘Oh,’ said Caroline, turning away from him. ‘Shit.’
Jack sniggered.
‘I’m sorry to intrude,’ said Caroline, throwing him an apologetic look. ‘I should go.’
‘Wait!’ said Jack quickly. ‘Now that I’ve got you here, I’d love to know what you think of my“ostentatious holiday home.”What was it you said…?“It’ll be empty fifty weeks of the year, and things will only be worse when the rich nincompoop is in residence.”‘
Caroline’s eyes widened, and she nodded slowly.
‘Nincompoop,’ she whispered, echoing him. ‘I… I did say that.’
‘So,’ said Jack, deciding it was finally time to give her a break, ‘what do you fancy - tea or coffee?’
Caroline went completely still, and then a broad, beautiful smile spread across her face. At last, it looked like she’d cottoned on. Far from being upset about what she’d written - Jack was just enjoying winding her up.
‘You, Jack Jones,’ she muttered, ‘are a git.’
‘Better than nincompoop,’ chuckled Jack, reaching for two gigantic mugs with dancing gingerbread men painted on the front. ‘And for the record, it’s just Jack. You don’t need to keep using my full name!’
‘But that’s just… weird,’ she said.
‘Excuse me?’ said Jack.
‘It’s like calling Ryan Reynolds… well… Ryan!’ said Caroline. ‘It’s just wrong!
‘But that’s his name,’ laughed Jack.
‘You’re a movie star,’ she huffed, ‘of course you wouldn’t get it!’
Jack raised an eyebrow and promptly decided not to mention the fact that he’d almost peed himself with excitement when he’d met Ryan Reynolds for the first time.
Ryan. Just Ryan!
‘Actually… I kinda get where you’re coming from,’ he said. ‘But as I’m off-duty, and you’re in my house… can I be just Jack?’
Caroline cocked her head. ‘Okie dokie, just Jack, I’ll do my best.’
‘Cheers!’ he said. ‘Now… what do you want to drink?’
‘Coffee, please,’ she said. ‘Mainly because I want to see if you have to call a maid or something to get that beast of a machine to work!’
