: Chapter 14
It was a quarter past dawn; the lights were all dimmed.
The stockings were hung; the trees were all trimmed.
And along Whistler Lane, past the house lit in green,
sat Cole Black on the corner, a planning machine.
His mission: to ruin her, to make sure she loses,
to play dirty, to embarrass, in any way he chooses.
“Fourth fucking place! And on a fucking technicality,” I say as I pace the barn, my stupid Kringle sash thrown on the bench next to me. “We got fourth place when we should have easily gotten second.”
Max chews on a piece of beef jerky, slowly nodding. “Yup, that was a blow, especially to me. I worked hard on that design.”
“And yet you were ready to shake hands with the enemy and act like everything was fine.”
“Uh, no,” he says. “I was trying to act like we were friends so they’d cool it with their sabotage. We were going to pretend to be friendly but then upend them.”
“What?” I say, blinking a few times. “That’s not what you said before we went over there.”
“Because I thought about it when we were walking to their house. I was going to tell you, but then you barged in there, freaking guns blazing, ready to take down the female population in that house, including the decrepit Cindy.”
“She was anything but decrepit. She was walking, Max. Fucking walking. And yeah, I went in there ready to throw down because I was pissed. You saw Storee—she was wrapped up in blankets and icing her head. Clearly, she was the one who made the commotion outside and messed with our lights.”
“Yes, I think we’ve established that.”
“Which means she’s the reason we got fourth place.”
“Very true,” he says with a nod. “But I’d like to point out, after doing the calculations, we’re still in first place with thirty total points, and since they took last place…overall they’re in third.”
I pause my pacing and turn toward my friend. “Who’s in front of them?” I’ve been too angry to check out how the other competitors have done.
“Ursula,” he says with a smile. “She beat out Jimmy and took first last night with her display. Going ugly Christmas sweater on her house was genius. And since she got third in the last two competitions, that puts her in second with twenty-nine points and Storee in third with twenty-eight points.”
“That’s not much of a difference,” I say as I push my hand through my hair. “What’s the next competition, and how can we sabotage Storee?”
“It’s a tough one.” He cringes. “It’s the Fruitcake Festivus.”
“Fuck,” I say as I lean against a support pole. “I don’t know how to bake.”
“Neither do I,” he says. “But I was speaking to my mom about it, and she said she could get us ready for the bake-off this Saturday.”
“She would?” I ask. “Does she know how to make fruitcake?”
“She said she has a recipe that could help highlight her jam. A fruity fruitcake with cherry jam, nuts, and some other things.”
“That could be cool,” I say. “And who’s judging this round?”
“Tanya down at Warm Your Spirits,” Max answers.
“Hmm,” I say, twisting my lips to the side, an idea coming to mind. “I think I’m thirsty, are you?”
He smiles. “As a matter of fact…I am.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say as I look through the window of the coffee and bakery shop. “What are they doing in there?”
Max peeks through the window quickly and then plasters himself up against the wall like me, trying not to be seen. “They’re copying us.”
“See, this is why we can’t be nice with them,” I say as I glance through the window again, spotting Storee and Taran both at the register chatting it up with Tanya. “They’re not going to let up.”
“You know, for a second I assumed that we could all act like adults, but clearly that’s not an option.”
“Finally, you realize that,” I huff and then turn to him, a plan forming in my head. “Okay, we need to go in there, and whatever I say or do, for the love of God, don’t think I mean it.”
“What are you going to say or do?” he asks, looking slightly frightened.
“Just watch and see.”
“Dude, hold on,” he says, a hand to my chest.
“Trust me, Max,” I say as our eyes meet.
And with that, I push away from him and open the door for both Max and me, the sound of a bell jingling above us alerting everyone in the bustling shop of our presence. Taran is the first one to spot us, and when Storee glances in our direction, she’s struggling to force a smile. The feeling is mutual.
“Merry Christmas,” I say with a raise of my hand and a warm expression.
“Merry Christmas,” they all reply as I step up to the counter, Max trailing behind.
I get close to Storee and say, “How are you?”
She leans back, clearly disturbed with how close I am. “I’m…I’m good.”
“What did you order?” I keep my voice low, pleasant…seductive.
“Um…” She swallows. “A caramel latte with oat milk, extra caramel.”
I nod, and then fully go for it while Tanya’s watching us. I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, letting my hand linger for a second. “Caramel latte with oat milk, extra caramel. Committing that to memory.”
“Uh…excuse me, what’s going on here?” Tanya asks, a huge grin on her face.
I glance in her direction. “Trying to get this girl to see me.” I bring my attention back to Storee. “Are you ever going to take me up on my offer?”
Max, clearly catching on, takes that moment to lean in. “You really should, Storee. He’s a good guy.”
“What offer is that?” Tanya asks, practically frothing at the mouth.
Here’s the thing about Kringle. We love being in each other’s business like all other small towns, but because we celebrate Christmas year-round, and because everyone is always cheery, constantly watching Lovemark movies, they have this penchant for love during the holidays. Any possible relationship—they want to know about it.
They live for it just like they live to hear Bob Krampus say ho-ho-ho.
A holiday romance is what their hearts desire, and I’m going to deliver. If anything, the pining man always wins the audience’s hearts.
I smile at Tanya. “I’d love to take Storee on a date, but she’s holding out on me.”
“A date?” Tanya coos, her hand clutching her chest. “Oh, Storee, what’s the hold up?”
“Now, now, don’t blame her,” I say. “She is, after all, taking care of our dear Cindy. She has priorities. I’m just being selfish.”
I can feel the steam coming from Storee. I don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s not happy with me. Like I said, I know how to work this town. No doubt Tanya will talk to Martha and Mae—she’s best friends with them—who will then talk to Sherry Conrad, and all of them are going to be wishing and hoping that Storee, the California girl, gives this small-town boy a chance.
Smart, I know.
“A selfish man who’s finally cashing in on the crush he’s been harboring for over a decade,” Max says, helping a guy out.
“Oh dear, not to put pressure on you, but over a decade?” Tanya asks Storee. “I can’t believe it’s been over a decade.”
I casually shrug, and even as I talk to Tanya, I keep my eyes on Storee the entire time. “I always looked forward to Christmas, knowing that Storee and her family were coming to visit Cindy. I’d watch her from over the fence, hoping she’d give me a chance to talk to her. And she would, but it was never anything romantic. But I loved those moments with her. And instead of holding her hand like I wanted to, I’d just…watch her from afar and wonder if I’d ever get my chance. And I thought I’d lost it when she didn’t return for ten years…so now that she’s here, I’m making it known.”
Now, here’s the strange thing. I cannot in all honesty say this is all a lie. The more I’ve thought about the hurt I felt when Storee left, the more I’ve realized that some of this is true. The only reason her trash talk and subsequent exit could have hurt me so much is if I did have feelings for her. Yes, her departure coincided with the devastating loss of my parents. But since she’s been back in town, so many feelings have risen to the surface. Teenage me was smitten with the little redhead sitting on the porch beside me. Adult me…well, not sure I want to delve into that just yet.
“Oh my goodness, my heart can’t take this,” Tanya says as she drapes a dish towel over her shoulder. “Storee, you realize Cole is the most eligible bachelor in town, right?”
Before Storee can answer, I say, “I don’t know. Max is giving me a run for my money.”
Max stands taller. “I think ladies like the smell of reindeer on Cole more. It’s those pheromones.”
What?
Ew. That makes no sense, and it’s actually kind of gross.
Tanya’s brows pinch together, no doubt trying to work through that comment as I say, “It’s fine though—I know Storee isn’t here forever. Her stay is only temporary.” I sigh. “But hell, it’s hard to not at least give it a shot, you know? And Tanya, isn’t she doing such a good job as a Kringle-ee? That performance as Judy Garland, it was a tough act to follow. I don’t know if you saw, but I had to wipe the tears from my eyes.”
Am I laying it on thick? Of course, but just watch…Tanya will eat it up.
“You know,” Tanya says, “I actually thought I saw emotion in your eyes while you were thrusting up on the stage. I thought it was the chill of the air whipping around you, but that was from watching Storee?”
I slowly nod. “She was…she was breathtaking up there.”
Storee has remained silent this entire time, her eyes locked on me, probably trying to murder me with her pupils. Obviously, she hasn’t blown up my head yet, but it hasn’t been from a lack of trying.
“She was breathtaking. Such a beautiful tribute to your aunt,” Tanya says to Storee.
“Thank you,” Storee replies. “It was an honor to do something for her that is so meaningful.” Oof, look who’s laying it on thick now.
Tanya looks between the two of us, hearts forming in her eyes as her hands clasp in front of her chest. “Oh, you two would be so cute together, and we’ve never had two Kringle-ees fall for each other. Imagine the buzz that would float through the town—two star-crossed lovers, supporting and aiding each other in their attempt to be named the Christmas Kringle. Someone call up Lovemark. I think we have a story in our midst.”
Chuckling, I lean one elbow on the counter. “Want to know a secret, Tanya?”
“Always,” she replies, leaning in as well.
“I haven’t told Storee this yet because, well, I know she’d get upset, but did you hear that one of my strands was out on my light display?”
Tanya winces while Storee shifts on her feet, looking anxious at what I might say. “I did hear that,” Tanya says.
“Well, we did that on purpose,” I reply.Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.
Tanya straightens up. “You did?”
I nod. “Didn’t we, Max?”
“Uh…yeah…” he slowly says, looking to see where I’m going with this.
“You see, I knew Storee was worried about their display and, despite Taran doing a great job with the lines, the most precise lights in town”—I catch Taran nod in appreciation—”I saw that they lacked creativity. I saw how self-conscious Storee was, and well, I wanted her to feel better and not so alone, so I pulled one of the bulbs out of my strand of lights right before Paula and Peach came by.”
“You didn’t,” Tanya gasps.
I nod, my lips pressed together as I stand up taller. “I did. I couldn’t stomach her getting last place all alone, so I sabotaged my own light display to make her feel better.”
I glance at Storee, who’s desperately attempting to suppress her flared nostrils. She tilts her head to the side. “That’s so sweet, Cole.”
“Sweet?” Tanya says. “That is more than sweet. That’s…oh my, that’s Cole riding in like a white knight.” Tanya fans herself. “Storee, please give him a chance. Please.”
“That’s okay, Tanya. Don’t pressure her, I know she doesn’t—”
“I’d love to go on a date,” Storee says with a smile on her face.
Uhhh, what?
Did I just hear her correctly?
“Really?” Tanya clasps her hands together. “You would?”
I glance at Storee, my mouth going dry as she nods. “Of course. How could I not go on a date with Cole after that…that valiant display? I’m not making any promises, but I should at least give him a shot.”
Umm, okay, I wasn’t actually asking her out, so this is awkward.
“You should,” Tanya says. “And how about tonight? Tonight would be the perfect night.”
“Why would tonight be perfect?” Storee asks as dread starts to fill me.
Shit, I completely forgot about tonight…
“Tonight is our Cupid Christmas celebration.”
Yup, this is backfiring, and this is backfiring hard.
“Oh, is this something new?” Storee asks. “I don’t think I’ve heard of it.”
“Just a few years ago, the town came up with the idea to have a date night where couples spend the evening, children-free, in the streets of Kringle, enjoying all the magic of the season. Martha and Mae head up all the festivities. Word on the street is they’ve added at least a dozen more hidden mistletoe leaves throughout town.”
Jesus.
I tug on my neck. “I don’t want to put any pressure on Storee. It might be best if we—”
“No, tonight is perfect.” Storee smiles back at me. “It sounds magical.”
Tanya claps her hands while looking between us. “I can’t wait to tell the ladies.”
Fucking great.
Look what you got yourself into now…
Storee
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Taran says as I touch up my lipstick in my bedroom mirror, Samantha judging me the entire time. At least I’m old enough to wear lipstick, Samantha.
“Why not?” I ask as I smack my lips together. “He knew exactly what he was doing. He knows Tanya is the judge this weekend and he wanted to make it seem like I’m the bad guy, not going out with the much-loved, if generally grumpy, Cole Black. Well, I’m not going to let him get away with it.”
“Yeah, but this…this is different. You’re going out in public, on a date, during some cupid love fest. Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“I don’t really have a choice, Taran.” I turn to face her. “This is where we’re at in this competition, and after he took credit for the light display, once again looking like the good guy, I have to rise to his level. If that means I have to suffer a night of pretending to be on a date with Cole, then I’ll do that.” It’s for Aunt Cindy. Everything I’ve freaking endured over the past how many freaking days has been for Aunt Cindy. It’s become my mantra since I walked out of Tanya’s shop. All for Aunt Cindy.
“Don’t you think we could win this without attempting to fool everyone?”
“No,” I say flatly as I slip on my long brown boots over my jeans. I’m going to freeze to death tonight, but I can’t possibly go on a date all bundled up, looking like Randy from A Christmas Story. “And if we were playing fair from the beginning, you never would have powdered Aunt Cindy’s face to look emaciated the first time.”
Taran shrugs. “That was easy. This is you going on a date with the enemy.”
“Fake date,” I correct her while I finish putting on my other boot.
“But is it?” she asks. I look up at her as I’m adjusting my pants. “Because I know there was some…you know…yearning there.”
“Oh my God, Taran,” I say. “There was never any yearning.”
“You used to say how cute he was when we were younger.”
“Uh, yeah, because he’s an attractive guy, but that means nothing. He can be handsome and still have an ugly personality.”
“Are you sure? Because I was talking to Aunt Cindy this morning and she was worried that we’re in third place now, and I know how much this means to her. I don’t want you getting distracted.”
“First of all, we’re in third place because of your light display, and the only reason Cole isn’t miles ahead of us at the moment is because I nearly gave myself a concussion sabotaging his light display. So we should be thrilled we’re in third place. Going on a fake date with Cole is only going to up our merit in this town, and we need that. So why don’t you stop worrying about me and start worrying about your light display and how you can improve it before the final judging.”
I head out of my room and down the stairs, Taran following closely behind. “I don’t think there’s much more I can do to enhance the display.” I pause on the last step and turn toward her.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “If the judges can’t appreciate simplicity, then that’s on them.”
I rub my temples and try to stay calm as I say, “Taran, the reason we’re in third place is because of the lights. They’re boring. We need more. For the love of God, put more lights on the house. You said it yourself—Aunt Cindy is worried. I’m going on a freaking date with Cole. You can at least pull some weight around here and add more lights.”
“Fake date.”
“Huh?”
“You just said date. Isn’t it a fake date?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and count to five.
“I want you to remember it’s fake,” Taran adds.
“Trust me, there will be nothing real about this date. Not a single thing. The sooner I can get it over with, the better. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to practice my smile in the mirror to make sure I’m not snarling when Cole comes to pick me up.”
I move past Taran and head into the powder room.
Remember it’s a fake date…as if I could forget.