Miss Frost Cracks A Caper

by Kristen Painter

  Only Sinclair’s laughter brought me back to reality. “That is so cool.”

  I opened my eyes. Snowflakes drifted down from the ceiling in my office. I shut that right off. “Sorry about that. It’s a perfectly natural winter elf reaction to high levels of emotion.”

  He frowned. “High levels of emotion?”

  “I’m a winter elf. And your doughnut kind of made me bliss out.” I sighed and put the rest of the doughnut on a tissue on my desk for later. I would have rather shoved the whole thing in my mouth, but I was the Winter Princess after all. Winter Princesses didn’t shove entire doughnuts into their mouths in front of strangers. Sadly. “I have a serious thing for sweets. And doughnuts. And especially Dr Pepper.” Like he didn’t know.

  “Oh, right. Got it.” His brows shot up. “I’ve never had anyone respond to one of my creations like that before. That was very, uh, impressive.” His smile took on a sly bend. “I should have stopped by sooner.”

  “What made you stop by today?” For the briefest moment, I thought Birdie might have sent him, but he’d arrived too soon after our lunch to be the guy she hoped to set me up with. It had to be Buttercup. Or Juniper. Or all of them.

  He shrugged. “If I’m being honest, I meant to come sooner, but I was a little intimidated by you.”

  Not this again. Instead of rolling my eyes, I reminded myself that, for some people, royalty was a big deal. “Look, I might be a princess, but I put my pants on the same way as everybody else.”

  He studied me for a long second. “You’re a princess?”

  “Isn’t that why you were intimidated by me?”

  He shook his head. “No. I was intimidated because word on the street is you’re a top consumer of sweets in this town, and I was afraid if you hated my doughnuts, it could be bad for business.”

  That couldn’t be true, could it? Did people really consider me that much of a sugar hound?

  He peered at me. “Are you really a princess?”

  There was no point in denying it. “Yes. I’m the Winter Princess. Heir to the Winter Throne.”

  He mulled that over. “That would make your father…Jack Frost?”

  I nodded. “You know your North Pole royalty.”

  “I like to keep up with the supernatural community. And since we’re sharing, I should tell you I’m a necromancer. You’ll probably hear people whispering about it anyway, but I don’t go around broadcasting it because then people come looking for favors. And frankly, I rarely want to do them. Those kinds of favors tend to be pretty morbid. No pun intended. But yes, what they say about me is true.”

  “A necromancer? I don’t really know what that is.” Although he was right about the rumors. I had heard that. From Birdie, I think. “Something to do with dead people, right?”

  “Right. I can see ghosts when others can’t. I can talk to dead people. I can temporarily bring dead things back to life. I have a few other skills, but that sums up the big ones.”

  “Get out. That’s pretty cool. And a little creepy.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a blessing and a curse.” He glanced down at the box still in his hands. “So…do you want these or should I take them back?”

  I grabbed the box. Gently. As gently as you might expect me to take possession of a box filled with delicious works of art that tasted like everything that was right in the world and that I suddenly thought might be taken away from me. “Oh no, you brought these for me. They’re staying right here.”

  He laughed as he let go. “Okay, good. That was their intended purpose.”

  “I’ll probably share them with my employees.” Provided this didn’t turn out to be a prank. “And don’t worry, I’ll be happy to tell everyone I know about how great these are. I’ll have to come by your shop. I’ve been meaning to since I heard about it. Just, you know, life.”

  “Yeah, I get that. It’s hard running your own business. You’re responsible for everything. On call constantly. It’s tough. But your shop is great. You are obviously doing an outstanding job here.”

  “Thank you. That’s really kind.” It was nice to talk to someone who got it. “Hey, strange question, but my employees didn’t set you up to come here, did they?”

  “Nope. Definitely not. Although the one at the register did let me back here and tell me where your office was. Can I ask why you’d think that?”

  No reason not to tell him. “Pranks have kind of become a thing around here lately. And to send a really hot guy into my office with a Dr Pepper-flavored doughnut the day both my dates to the Black and Orange Ball find out they can’t go, well, it seemed like I was getting set up for something.”

  His brows shot up as a new warmth filled his gaze. “You had two dates and both of them canceled on you?”

  “Yes. Both for good reasons, but it does make me sound pretty pathetic.”

  “Pathetic is the last word I’d use to describe you.” His jaw shifted to one side, and he stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You know…I’d be happy to escort you to the ball. I mean, if you’re interested in going with a guy who makes Dr Pepper-flavored doughnuts for a living and the whole communicating with the dead thing doesn’t turn you off.”

  I smiled a big, dumb smile. Probably looked like I’d just been shot up with Novocain. And I’m 99 percent sure I blushed. Sinclair was asking me out. At least I think that’s what was happening.

  “I’d love to. If you don’t mind going with a woman who can freeze you into a solid hunk of ice in under two seconds.” I liked to let people know up front who they were dealing with. Especially men. Never hurt for them to have a little fear of you, I figured.

  He shrugged. “All I heard is you just called me a hunk.”

  I laughed. “I like you, Sinclair.”

  “I like you too, Jayne.” He took his hands out of his pockets. “I guess we should exchange numbers.”

  “Yes. But in all seriousness, I have to tell you that I’ve got some baggage that might be on display at the ball. I hesitate to tell you this, because I really don’t want to go alone, but an old frenemy of mine is DJing the bash. I don’t think anything will happen, but then again, who knows?”

  “Ex-boyfriend?” He got his phone out.

  “Old college roommate who caused my boyfriend and me to break up, then tried to seduce him for herself.”

  His eyes widened. “How about that. And you’re still talking to this woman?”

  “Not really. But we’ve agreed to be civil.”

  He pondered that. “We should probably go to dinner so you can tell me everything in detail. You know, prep me for the big night. And we can get to know each other better that way.”

  I smiled. He’d just asked me out again. And why not? “Okay. Tomorrow night?” Tonight was movie night with the girls.

  “Anyplace special you want to go?”

  “Anywhere but Claude’s.” Going there with another guy would be awkward since that was kind of my spot with Greyson.

  “How about that pub in town? The Poisoned Apple?”

  “Sounds great.”

  “It’s a date, then. Let me give you my number. You can call me, and then I’ll have you in my contacts.”

  We exchanged numbers, and while we did, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was complicating my life further by going out with Sinclair. It was just for the ball. Which Cooper and Greyson couldn’t go to.

  Which, let’s be honest, Cooper got a full pass for what was going on with his mom. I was genuinely worried about her and hurting for Cooper. He was as close to his parents as I was to mine. But Greyson? Greyson could have told Lucian no. He’d had the date with me before this trip came up.

  None of that stopped me from feeling oddly guilty about how much I was looking forward to this date with Sinclair. On the surface at least, he was pretty much the perfect guy for me. I had to get over the guilt. Going to the ball alone would be a little awkward. And it wasn’t like I’d ditched Greyson and Cooper in favor of Sinclair.

  H
e was just the right man at the right time. So, so right.

  And I knew Greyson and Cooper couldn’t expect me to go solo. With Lark there? They had to know that wasn’t going to work for me. They also had to know that if the situation was reversed, I wouldn’t expect them not to ask someone else. And also, I hadn’t done the asking. Sinclair had.

  Who was I to tell the maker of such fine doughnuts no?

  I shared the doughnuts with Juniper and Kip, then saved the rest for movie night with Buttercup and Juniper that evening. As we ate our pizza (the doughnuts were for dessert) and got ready to watch our flick, I also shared about my new date for the ball. I told them all about Sinclair and, long story short, they were completely on board with him taking me.

  Of course, Juniper had been the one to send him back to my office in the first place, so she was really wound up about him.

  His magic with doughnuts didn’t hurt, but Buttercup, Goth girl that she was, loved that he was a necromancer. That might have actually been the first time I’d seen a flash of longing in her eyes when talking about my love life.

  Like I’d said, Juniper was even more thrilled about it than Buttercup, who’d never been quite as invested in my personal life. Juniper still hadn’t totally warmed up to Greyson, and while she liked Cooper and was very sympathetic about his situation with his mom, she agreed that I shouldn’t go to the ball solo. She and Pete were going to the ball, too, so it would be nice to have her there with Lark around. Emotional support and all that.

  I’d sort of expected them to give me grief about adding a third man to my dating repertoire, but they were all for it. Really, the whole conversation went easier than anticipated.

  Easier than trying to decide what to wear on this getting-to-know-you date with Sinclair. I’d been standing in my closet for at least ten minutes, and there were already a few discarded outfits on my bed.

  My phone buzzed, giving me a reprieve. I checked the screen. It was Cooper answering my earlier text asking about his mom.

  Nothing new. She still refuses to go to the doctor.

  That wasn’t good. I tried to look on the bright side. Maybe it’s a sign she feels better?

  Maybe. Let’s hope.

  I am.

  Me too.

  I put the phone down and went back to standing in my closet.

  “Spider,” I called out. “What should I wear to dinner?” I wasn’t even sure where he was at the moment.

  Apparently, I’d said the magic word since he came scampering in and slid to a stop. “Dinner? Spider loves Chicken Party.”

  I snorted a laugh. “Do you? I had no idea. Might as well feed you now, huh?”

  He meowed a happy little response and trotted off. I followed him into the kitchen, filled his bowl, then went back to my closet while he stuffed his cute, bewhiskered face.

  I didn’t want anything too fancy or too sexy. This was just a friendly, casual thing. We were not going to be dating beyond the ball. At least, that was my assumption. I mean, let’s get real. Despite Juniper and Buttercup’s enthusiasm, two guys were enough. Right? Or…I didn’t know. Maybe I was overthinking it. This was just a new friend helping me out. A new, super-hot friend.

  Regardless, I didn’t want to be underdressed or look like a frump for this evening. The guy was taking me out. I wanted to be respectful of his time and efforts.

  I settled on a wine-colored long-sleeve wrap dress with a brown leather belt and my brown boots. The dress showed a smidge of cleavage, so it was borderline sexy, but otherwise covered up. This time of year in Nocturne Falls was great because it was cool enough to wear some of my winter things. I added some jewelry and my leather jacket, then grabbed my purse and headed out. After kissing Spider goodbye, of course.

  That kiss (and the very important extra belly rubs that followed) made me a little late to meet Sinclair by the warehouse door. Apparently, I had a real knack for attracting the punctual, because he was already there. He’d parked across the street and was leaning against his car, a sleek, all-black SUV that looked a little like a hearse. Or maybe I was projecting.

  He was a necromancer, not an undertaker.

  He smiled when I came through the door and stopped leaning to stand up straight. “Evening.”

  “Hi, sorry I’m late.” For some reason, I’d expected him in a suit, but he looked like a slightly dressed-up version of the man who’d come to my office. Tight, low-slung dark-wash jeans, a black crew-neck sweater that highlighted just how in shape he was, and a black leather motocross jacket. As I walked toward him, the silver streaks in his hair and the strand of dark beads at his throat gleamed under the streetlight, giving him a kind of supernatural glow.

  I didn’t want to sound overly dramatic, but with that silvery glow and the black-on-black clothing, he looked like death personified. If death had a modern kind of hipster vibe going on, and was, oh, you know, super sexy.

  And this was from a woman who’d actually met death in the form of Greyson’s other boss, retired grim reaper Lucian Dupree.

  Sinclair laughed as he walked halfway into the street to meet me. “You’re right on time. I just got here. You look great, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” I suddenly realized I’d been holding my breath. “You look pretty good yourself.” We walked to the car together, then he opened the passenger door for me. I climbed in, put my seat belt on, and waited for him to join me. The car smelled amazing, and my mouth started to water.

  He got in and glanced at me. “Why are you smiling like you’ve just been told a secret?”

  “Your car smells like doughnuts.”

  He snorted as he buckled in. “I do deliveries with this car sometimes. Enough that the smell has kind of stuck, I guess. I don’t even notice it anymore.” He started the car. “Is it bothering you?”

  “Bothering me? If you could bottle that scent and sell it, you’d be a millionaire. It’s the best smell ever. Well, it’s up there. Top five absolutely.”

  “I’ll put doughnut perfume on my to-do list.” He laughed as he pulled away from the curb.

  Ten minutes later, we were walking into the Poisoned Apple. The pub wasn’t a spot I frequented that often, but I loved the look of the place. All that rich wood paneling and high-sided booths. There was something cozy and mysterious about it. Like a place spies would meet to exchange information. And to me, that just made it seem even more like the perfect upscale British pub. Not that I’d ever been to a real British pub, but in my mind, these walls were the exact shade of dark green you’d find in any classy London tavern.

  We went up to the hostess stand and were greeted right away.

  “Evening.” Sinclair gave his name. “Crowe, party of two for seven fifteen.”

  The woman checked the book in front of her, then picked up two menus and smiled at us. “Right this way.”

  We got seated in one of those cozy private booths, the server came by to take our drink orders (a glass of moscato for me, a beer for Sinclair), then we perused our menus.

  “Have you eaten here before?” Sinclair asked.

  “Yes, but it’s been a while. Have you?”

  “No, but it was recommended to me by a few people.” He looked past the menu at me. “You don’t only eat sweets, do you?”

  I laughed. “No, I eat regular food too.”

  “Just checking.”

  That got me thinking that maybe I should order something healthy. Not to impress him, because I wasn’t about to eat a salad just so a guy would think I was, I don’t know, ladylike or whatever, but because I probably should eat something that had actual vitamins in it.

  Or at least that’s how I felt until I saw the house risotto on the menu. I made a little noise of pleasure before I even realized it.

  Sinclair set his menu aside. “What was that about?”

  “The risotto. Did you see it? Parmesan and shrimp and pancetta with peas and shallots.” I put my menu down. “I don’t need to look at anything else.” Except him, because wow, the man w
as smoking.

  He nodded as he picked his menu up again. “That does sound good, but the hanger steak with duck fat fries is calling my name.” He set his menu aside as well. “Should we save room for dessert, or is that a dumb question?”

  “There are no dumb questions when it comes to dessert. Also, if you have a thing about people taking food off your plate, I’ll warn you now that I will be stealing some of your fries.”

  He laughed. “Good to know.”

  Our server came back and we ordered, then we settled back into the purpose of the date. Getting to know each other.

  He spoke before I could, which was fine. I was only going to talk about doughnuts anyway. “So, have you heard the big news about the ball?”

  “You mean that Elenora hired a DJ instead of her usual live musicians?”

  “No, but that is interesting.”

  “If that’s not it, what’s the big news, then?”

  He leaned in. “Elenora is using the ball to debut a new purchase. One of the rarest diamonds to exist, a flawless pink diamond called the Heart of Dawn. Willa Iscove, the jeweler here in town, just put the finishing touches on the necklace it’s in.”

  “Wow, that is really cool.”

  “It’s something like seventy-five carats and priceless, apparently.”

  Like most winter elves, my fondness for ice extended beyond the kind made of water. “I can’t wait to see it.” I also made a mental note to borrow a few extra of the royal family jewels for this bash. I hardly ever wore them, but if there was ever a time to pile them on, the Black and Orange Ball was it. “I guess that explains this year’s theme of ice.”

  “Makes sense now, doesn’t it?”

  “Totally.” I thought about this new information. “How do you know about this diamond? Did Willa tell you?” I hadn’t heard a peep, not that I was part of the Ellingham inner circle or anything like that, but Birdie generally knew everything, and she hadn’t said a word. Very unlike her.

  “It’s pretty hush-hush, but I know people who know people. And no, it wasn’t Willa. Although I do know her.” He sipped his beer.

  I gave him my serious stare. “Like who, then?”