Page 40 of Never Sleigh Never
She taps a finger against her lips. “No. I was told it’s in a field outside of Mount Holly.”
I wave her off. “There’s a stupid carnival taking place, but it’s not important.”
“Two holiday events,” she muses, eyes sparkling. “How festive.”
“Not quite. Mine’s a festival. The other one’s just a teeny, tiny, silly carnival.”
She nods. “I look forward to checking out your festival.”
“Oh gosh, we have so many amazing things planned. I can’t wait to show them all to you. Actually, I have some free time. If you want, we can start right now.” If all goes as planned, she’ll be writing her blog post about the festival tonight with publication the following week. It’ll be perfect timing for the kick-off. Finally, I’m getting a little tinsel thrown my way.
She tugs the cuff of her coat up and glances at her watch. “I have a few hours until I can check in, but I want to grab a coffee and,” she leans around me, “one of those cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh my gosh, we’re almost the same person. That’s my order too.” Emma smiles at me.
“No, it’s not,” Willa says, appearing with a to-go bag. “You get the breakfast sandwich. Which is right here.”
I glare at Willa, giving her my best just go with it look before directing my attention to Emma. “Yes, but the cinnamon roll is my second choice. I’ll grab both. On me.”
I lean over the counter toward Willa. “Write ‘Paid for by Brie McKenna, Holly Jolly Festival Coordinator’ on the receipt.”
“You never told me you liked my cinnamon rolls.”
“Play along. I’m trying to connect with Emma.”
“By lying about your breakfast order? Just be yourself.”
I sigh. “Just write it.”
Willa’s mouth twitches. “Should I add your phone number? Email? Blood type? Maybe a lock of hair?”
“Phone number is good, but the rest might be a bit much.”
“This whole thing might be a bit much. Especially the cinnamon roll.” Willa rings me up, and I pay for our orders before she turns around and collects a cinnamon roll from the display case.
I turn to Emma. “It might be weird to ask, but can we take a selfie together?”
“Sure.” She smiles.
I pull out my phone, tuck in close to Emma, and snap a picture. This is going on my social media. I already know the caption: Me + Christmas Royalty = Holly Jolly Destiny. It’s not every day you meet a celebrity, especially in Mount Holly. “Thanks. I have to ask, what is your favorite type of Christmas?—”
The diner erupts into a collection of hi and hey Logans.
I roll my eyes as Emma swivels around. “Is that Logan Crawford?”
“No. I don’t know who that is. Must be some guy passing through town. Oh! Maybe he’s the Northwoods Killer. You know they never caught him.”
“They caught him twenty years ago,” Willa says, sliding a coffee and cinnamon roll to Emma.
I cut Willa a death glare and steer Emma gently away from the human magnet in the doorway. “Now that you’ve got your items—want a private tour of the festival grounds?”
Emma spins away from me. “No. I think that’s Logan Crawford.”
“Logan Crawford! Can I get your autograph?” A little boy runs up to Logan with a hockey puck and a marker.
“That is Logan. I need to introduce myself.” She abandons our plans and beelines it to Logan.
“But what about the festi—” she’s already shaking his hand, probably memorizing his jawline while she’s at it. “—val.” My shoulders sag. “Meet you there? No, I’ll be busy drowning myself in the Winterberry Creek,” I mutter to myself.
