Page 89 of The Holiday Grump
“There,” he announced, wiping his forehead. “Always good to get the MVP out quickly. Fail early, pivot fast. I’ve actually had another idea…” He pocketed the rest of the cookies, tipped his chin at us, and strutted out.
“And… that’s Ralph,” Felicity summed up as the door closed.
“What’s an MVP?” Ida asked.
“Minimum viable product,” Lola explained, holding up his sad chain of yarn. “And this ain’t it.”
I laughed with the others until realization hit. I couldn’t let Ralph leave. Not before I made sure he wouldn’t spill our secret.
I grabbed my coat and rushed outside. “Hey! Can we talk?”
He was scraping frost from the window of his vintage Dodge with his ID card.
“She’s not a bar leaner,” he said reproachfully as I rested against the car.
I straightened. “Sorry.”
“But I’ll take you to a bar you can lean on all you like.” He winked.
“Nice segue.” I mustered a smile.
“You think I’m a joke?” His face fell.
“No.” I fished a credit card from my pocket and joined him in scraping. “How did it freeze like this? You were here less than an hour.”
“I ran out of gas two days ago and had to leave it.” He nudged a gas canister by his foot.
Ah. That made more sense.
“You know everyone’s jealous of my hair.” He ran his fingers through his curls. “Guys are getting perms left and right. I have the real deal. I’m thinking of getting a mohawk. Maybe a mullet. Some speed stripes. The mayor won’t let me till after the lobster gig, but then…”
He looked up, gauging my reaction. Did he really think a mullet was the difference between me wanting to date him or not?
“You’re lucky,” I said. “Perms are expensive.”
His grin returned. “Right? Mine’s like money in the bank. Who wouldn’t back this investment?” He gestured to his tall, lanky form, dressed in an oversized puffer jacket and baggy jeans.
I wasn’t sure Ralph understood much about business or how banks worked, but I appreciated his entrepreneurial spirit.
“You’re a catch.” I smiled. “Just like lobster.”
He sighed. “The problem with small towns is that you’re not allowed to reinvent yourself. Everyone remembers you from the day you were born. Every mistake. Every awkward phase. They typecast you before you even start. I need freedom! We only have one life.”
“Sure. I get that.” I met his gaze. “Look, if you think it’ll help, I’ll go out for one drink. But you have to promise you won’t tell anyone about Fredrik and me. No one. Not your mom, not your sister, not another date?—”
“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands. “The Shore Thing, next Saturday after Tree Lighting?”
“I’ll be there.” He pocketed his ID card, and we shook hands.
“Wear something sexy.”
“Nope.”
“Fine.”
He slid into his car and drove away, leaving me standing in the cold, my heart racing. What had I just agreed to?
CHAPTER 29
