Page 4 of Never Sleigh Never
Willa
Your breakfast sandwich is getting cold. Come to the diner and I’ll make you a new one. Then you can tell me what Logan has to do with anything.
Brie
My Christmas Wonderland turned into a Christmas hell.
Willa’s strawberry-blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, her signature work look. The Jolly Biscuit stretches across the front of her gray shirt. She greets me from behind the counter with a to-go bag of my usual turkey sausage patty, egg white, and pepper jack cheese, on a whole wheat English muffin.
“So, I hear you’re making out with Logan Crawford on the side of the road.”
My mouth falls open. “No! My lips would never touch his.”
“Mrs. Hanson says otherwise. She said she saw you two embracing in a lip lock on the side of Snowflake Lane by Reindeer Ridge.”
“Mrs. Hanson needs to get her eyes checked, because none of that happened.” The gossip runs rampant through town, and today it seems to be spearheaded by the head Gigi herself.
“But you did run into Logan.”
“Unfortunately. And by the looks of it, he’s not passing through town. He’s building a Christmas carnival.”
“Ooo. Competition.” She leans on the counter, resting her chin on her hand.
“No! Not competition. More like a pain in my ass.” I rub my temples. A headache tap-dances behind my eyes. “What time is it?”
“8:55.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m going to be late! And it’s all Logan’s fault!”
“Fine. I’ll let it slide this time, but the Deer tonight. Because I need the rest of the kiss story, and it’s raffle night.”
I drop my shoulders and glare at her.
She holds her hands up in defense. “I heard kiss. Until you tell me the full story, it’s a kiss.”
I roll my eyes. “Is it too early to drink now?”
“It might be best to wait until at least noon.”
“I’ll call you later.” I spin on my heel and wave my hand over my head. A gust of icy wind smacks into me as soon as I land on the sidewalk. Mondays can swan-dive straight into the frozen Winterberry Creek.
Two
Flaming Yule Log
Brie
Stupid Logan for making me late. Okay—technically, I made me late, but it’s because of Logan. Without wasting another second, I shoulder through the heavy steel doors of town hall, boots squeaking traitorously as melting snow tattles on me. As I dash up the stairs two at a time I pray I can shave a couple seconds off my tardiness. It doesn’t matter. If Mrs. Kingsley checks the surveillance video, she’ll know I’m sneaking in like a teenager past curfew. I round the corner to my desk and tiptoe like the floor’s made of bubble wrap. I freeze. The only sound I can make out is my heart thumping in my ears. With trembling hands, I pull open the bottom drawer, hoping to keep it from clicking, and slowly slide my purse inside. Gently, I shrug out of my coat and hang it on the coat rack behind me. Pinching my eyes closed, I lower myself to my chair. The shaft squeaks as my weight pushes down on the metal. Slowly, I continue to ease down, until I’m fully seated. My ears are on high alert for any sounds of movement. When the coast is clear, I exhale.
“Brie! Come in here for a moment,” Mrs. Kingsley yells from her office down the hall.
My teeth grind together as I silently curse myself. “I’ll be right there!” I shove my chair away from my desk and swipe the strands of hair off my face. The soles of my boots continue to squeak on the tile floor as I stroll toward the door leading to her office. Before I reach the doorway, I pause, straightening my hair and saying a silent prayer that she doesn’t know I arrived late. I peek my head around the doorframe. “Yes, Mrs. Kingsley, you wanted to see me?”
Without looking up, she says, “You’re late.”
Dammit. “Uh. Yes. Sorry. Henry’s sheep Brad got out again. You know how he is. Wanderlust is in his blood, and Mount Holly is his playground. Of course, when you need him to move, he doesn’t.” I deploy the widest, most innocent smile in my arsenal. No carnival talk yet—not until I have a battle plan.
She drops her pen to her desk and glances up, meeting my gaze. Not a single hair is out of place or a piece of lint on her blouse. She’s fully composed as always. I’d love to see her let loose. I bet she’d be a riot. But a blizzard in hell is more likely to happen.
