Page 13 of Tied Up In Tinsel
“Haunted closet?”
Ruby’s eyes widened in mock seriousness. “Oh yeah. The last babysitter who stayed in there ran out screaming.”
I shot Annie a questioning look, but she was biting her lip to keep from laughing. “You’re just gonna let her scare me off?”
“She’s testing you,” Annie said. “If you can survive her, you can survive anything.”
I followed Ruby down the hall, her curls bouncing with each step. She pointed at the guest room. “Good luck.”
The room was cozy—small bed, warm blankets, a dresser, and a window that looked out over a backyard where snow was already piling high. I set my bags down and turned toward her.
“So, Ruby… are we cool?”
She tapped her chin again. “We’ll see. You might be okay.”
“Guess I’ll have to earn my place.”
Her footsteps pattered away, and I was left grinning like an idiot.
Annie appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning her shoulder against the frame. “She’s… a lot,” she said softly.
“She’s great,” I replied without hesitation. “Sharp kid.”
“She’s sharp enough to scare off half the people who’ve ever tried to babysit her.”
I shrugged. “I’m not most people.”
Her lips curved just slightly, and for a second, the air between us felt warmer than the rest of the house.
“Dinner’s in an hour,” she said finally. “We’re having chili.”
“I like chili.”
“Good. Because Ruby’s the one who picked it.”
I laughed. “Guess I’ll tell her it’s the best chili I’ve ever had.”
“You might actually mean it,” Annie said, pushing off the doorframe and heading toward the kitchen. “She’s surprisingly good with a crockpot.”
I watched her go, noting the way her sweater brushed against her hips, the sway of her ponytail.
Maybe I’d signed up for a temporary holiday gig. But standing there, in a warm little house that smelled like Christmas, with a stubborn kid who called me a clown and a woman who smiled like she was holding back secrets… I was starting to think this might be the best bad decision I’d ever made.
Annie
It was day one with Brooks on the job and the first day of what I already knew would be the busiest two weeks of my life.
Normally, being an early riser was my thing. I loved getting up before the sun, savoring those rare, quiet moments before Ruby woke up and launched into her day with all the sass of a stand-up comedian and none of the caffeine.
But today wasn’t about peace and quiet. Today was about hitting the ground running.
I swung my legs over the edge of my bed, the cool air nipping at my skin, and sat up straight with a long stretch. My cow-print slippers waited faithfully on the floor. The second my toes slid into their fuzzy warmth, a smile spread across my face. Running my small business was my pride and joy—well, second to Ruby—and even though the holiday rush was chaotic, it was the kind of chaos I thrived in.
Shuffling to the door with a yawn, I grabbed my robe from its hook and wrapped it around my matching silk pajama set. My brain was already building my to-do list for the day: inventory, invoices, shipping orders, prep for the Christmas party in a little over a week. But before any of that, there was one crucial step—coffee. Always coffee.
The hallway was still and hushed, the winter light barely spilling through the frosted windows. I peeked into Ruby’s room as I passed, just to be sure she was still asleep. Sure enough, there she was—arms thrown above her head at odd angles, sleeping on her stomach with her mouth wide open like she was trying to catch snowflakes in her dreams.
A quiet laugh escaped me as I eased the door shut.
