Mayhem & Mistletoe

by Amanda M. Lee

  “You could come here.”

  I’d been using his pawnshop in downtown Mount Clemens to file my pieces. It allowed us to spend extra time together while avoiding the co-workers I hated. But ever since he announced he was going to propose, I’d backed off from writing there and embraced my desk at the newspaper office. He’s obviously picked up on that and wanted to see if he could return me to our previous pattern.

  “I need to talk to Fish,” I replied. “This is going to be a big story. We need to come up with a plan.” I hesitated and then barreled forward. “We can have dinner when I’m done. I’ll even buy.”

  He almost sounded relieved when he spoke again. “That sounds great. Text me when you’re done and I’ll meet you.”

  “Okay.” I wanted to say something else, eradicate the awkwardness that had crept into our relationship. I didn’t know what that should be, though.

  “Avery?” His voice was soft.

  “What?”

  “I love you.”

  My heart sighed — no, really — at the words. He had a way of breaking down my barriers that I didn’t always appreciate. “I love you too. We should get extra chocolate cake to take home.” Why I felt the need to add the second sentence was beyond me.

  “That can be arranged.” He paused a beat, perhaps waiting for me to say something more, and then he wrapped things up. “Text me when you’re on your way ... and be careful. If that is some weird Christmas mob hit, I don’t want you getting on their radar.”

  “I’m a professional,” I reminded him. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Then why did I just get chills?”

  Why indeed?

  OTHER THAN THE NIGHT CREW, the office was mostly empty by the time I returned. Fish was packing up his briefcase. His gaze felt heavy as he watched me trudge in.

  “What are you doing back here?”

  The question grated. “Um ... filing my story. I believe everything above the fold on the first page belongs to me, right?”

  He nodded. “Jared took some great photos. It should be a good package.”

  I tried to ignore the concern in his eyes and remained on topic. “I’ll have my piece finished in about an hour if you want to hang around to read it.”

  He glanced at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. “You usually write at home or Eliot’s shop when it gets this late in the day.”

  He was too observant for his own good. Err, or maybe my good. “Well, I decided to write it here. If that’s suddenly against the rules, I guess I can head out to my car and work on my iPad.”

  He shot me a quelling look. “Don’t give me attitude. I’m just ... concerned.”

  I hated — I mean, absolutely hated — that I wanted to drop to the floor and cry. I had no idea where the compulsion came from. I hated anyone feeling sorry for me. Fish was supposed to yell at me, threaten to fire me for my choice of outfits, essentially be a disagreeable bastard. Instead he was acting like a surrogate father protecting his child.

  “You don’t have anything to be worried about.” I forced a smile. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “Can I ask you something?”

  Absolutely not. I didn’t need anyone else prying into my life. “Do you have to?” I sounded whiny but kept my face impassive.

  “I think it’s for the best.”

  I sighed. “Knock yourself out.”

  “Are you afraid of getting married?”

  I knew he was going to ask that question. I just knew it! “Of course not.” The lie rolled easily off my tongue. “I just don’t see the point of getting married.”

  Fish folded his arms across his chest but remained silent. Because I was me, I had to fill the void.

  “Marriage is for religious people,” I explained. “I’m not religious. I don’t like church and stuff. Also, I’m not having kids. Marriage is for people who have kids.”

  “I see.” I couldn’t decipher his expression. “I’m assuming you’ve told the long-haired lothario you don’t want kids.”

  He almost never called Eliot by name, opting instead to comment on his shoulder-length hair. I was fairly certain that was jealousy. Fish had been mostly bald since the day I’d met him.

  “We’ve talked about it. He doesn’t want kids either.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “Who said there was a problem?” My voice rose an octave. “Things are perfectly fine. If you think otherwise, well, then you’re the problem.”

  “Kid, I’ve known you for a long time now.” He used his most reasonable tone. “You’re an open book when it comes to certain things, like being afraid.”

  “I’m never afraid.”

  “Not when you should be,” he agreed. “When your life is on the line, you’re a bold and mouthy pain in the butt. But when it comes to emotions, you’re a little girl hiding behind your mother’s skirts.”

  Oh, well, that was doubly insulting. I would never hide behind a skirt. “What do you want from me?” I held out my hands. “I’m doing my job. I’m not being a pain. I’m ... being a good little soldier.”

  The sigh he let loose was long and drawn out. “Nobody expects those things from you. I know you’re still ... worked up ... about what happened in the wake of Ludington’s shooting. I want you to know I fought to keep you on the job. I didn’t want you to be suspended. The decision was out of my hands.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “No, but you’re not yourself.” He offered up a crooked grin. “Do you know what I like best about you?”

  “My winning fashion sense?”

  He ignored the sarcasm and barreled forward. “You don’t care what anyone thinks. You’re you, authentically so, twenty-four hours a day. You’ll never change to fit into a box of other people’s making.”

  “And that’s a good thing? I’m pretty sure my mother would disagree.”

  “It’s good for you,” he clarified. “You’re good at your job. You’re not in any danger of losing it now that the Ludington mess is sewn up. If that’s the reason you’re hanging around the office these days, you don’t have to worry. You can go back to the way things were.”

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  He shook his head, exasperation evident. “I don’t think that’s the reason you’re suddenly such a diligent employee. You’re hanging around here to avoid your security stud.”

  I bit back a curse. Swearing at him was frowned upon even under the best of circumstances. “I’m not trying to avoid Eliot. Why would I do that?”

  “Because he’s about to make you do something you thought you’d never do.”

  “He can’t make me do anything.”

  Fish’s chuckle was dry. “Yes, he can. You love him. I wasn’t sure I would live to see it, but you have become domesticated.”

  That was the meanest thing he could’ve said to me. “I am not domesticated!” My cheeks burned as he chuckled. “I am ... a wild stallion … I’m a rampaging shark. Nobody can survive my wrath.”

  “If that’s what you need to tell yourself. It’s obvious you’re dealing with this in your own way, which is what I think Mr. Muscles expected. He wants you to work all this out before he sweeps you off your feet.”

  “I don’t get swept off my feet.”

  “Kid, he’s already done the sweeping. He was just so good at it, so stealthy, you didn’t see it coming.” He paused a beat. “You’re going to be okay, Avery. This ... thing ... is exactly what you need. I wasn’t certain this relationship would be good for you, but now I see it’s the absolute best thing for you. If you allow yourself a moment to breathe, you’ll realize he’ll make you happy.”

  That wasn’t my problem. Er, well, it mostly wasn’t my problem. “Is that all?” I knew I was being snippy, but I needed to get away from him. He was far too sympathetic for my liking. “I need to file my piece. I’m meeting Mr. Wonderful for dinner.”

  “That’s all. I’m always here if you ne
ed to talk,” he offered.

  “Great. How do you feel about the Kardashians? Do you want to shoot them through the television, too?”

  “I’m always here to talk when you want to talk about something serious,” he clarified.

  Now it was my turn to grin. “I appreciate the offer. I really am fine, though. In fact ....” I broke off at the sound of voices, turning to the archway that led to the department. Duncan Marlow — aka the office tool — walked into view. He was The Monitor’s least favorite son, so I expected him to be alone. Instead, my best friend in the office, Marvin Potts, stood close by. Between the two was a young woman with blond hair and green eyes. She was short — a good three inches shorter than me — but she boasted one of those friendly faces that teen magazines try to recruit in malls.

  “Oh, I don’t know what to say,” the girl gushed. If she was of legal age to drink, I would’ve been surprised. “You guys didn’t have to show me the storage closet together.”

  “It was our pleasure,” Duncan said, tilting his head indulgently toward the young woman. He gripped what looked to be a box of desk supplies in his hands. “It’s the least we can do to make you feel welcome in your new environment.”

  I was beyond confused, and when I slid my eyes to Fish I found him watching the scene with rapt attention ... most of which was reserved for the woman. “Who is that?”

  “What? Oh.” Fish recovered quickly, probably because I caught him staring and I had a big mouth, one prone to saying outrageous things about men slobbering over young women. “That’s Sabrina Holden. She’s our new intern.”

  The statement did little to alleviate my confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  “She’s a student at the community college. She’s conducting a project for her journalism class, and as part of that, she’ll be doing twenty hours a week here. Actually, she’ll be doing forty hours a week here during Christmas break.”

  “To what end?”

  “What do you mean?” Fish’s lips curved into a frown. “She’s going to help us and get her feet wet at the same time. We don’t have to pay her. She’s very enthusiastic. What’s the downside here?”

  I could think of a few downsides. Two of them were fawning over the young woman. I expected this sort of nonsense from Marvin. He was an emotional vacuum when it came to the opposite sex. He couldn’t help himself from getting tongue-tied and stupid when a pretty girl paid him any attention. Duncan was another story. He was mired in an ugly divorce. His mail-order bride, a woman I was convinced married him only for a green card, had already moved on to some pot-smoking mechanic, something he took as a great affront. I’d never seen him flirt with any of the interns before, and it wasn’t pretty.

  Fish cleared his throat to get the small group’s attention. “Sabrina, I want to introduce you to someone.”

  Sabrina dutifully stepped forward, her wide-eyed innocent act on full display. “Of course.”

  “This is Avery Shaw.” He gestured toward me. “She’s one of our best reporters. I’ll expect you to shadow her from time to time, so it’s best you two meet now.”

  It took everything I had not to snarl out that she would only be able to shadow me if I were dead. “It’s nice to meet you.” I was reticent as I held out my hand. “I hope you manage to be comfortable during your time here.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Marvin said, his eyes never leaving Sabrina’s face. “She’ll fit right in here.”

  “Much better than you,” Duncan agreed with a sneer. “In fact, Sabrina, you should probably avoid Avery as much as possible. She’s a problem child in the office. And she’s not friendly to newcomers.”

  I wanted to argue with Duncan, but for once he was right.

  “You should stick close to me,” he continued. “I’m the best reporter here.”

  Fish, Marvin and I snorted in unison, earning dark glares.

  “I’m the most professional reporter here,” Duncan clarified.

  “Professionalism has no place in a newsroom,” Marvin volunteered. “That’s why I’m the best reporter. You should definitely hang out with me if you want to learn from the best.”

  The show of testosterone was enough to turn my stomach. I didn’t care which of them ended up with the intern as a shadow. I only cared that it wasn’t me. “I have to file my story.” I inched toward my desk. “It was nice to meet you, Sabrina. I hope things go well for you here.”

  “Um ... thank you.” She looked as if she wanted to follow me, but Marvin and Duncan made that impossible, for which I was profoundly thankful. “Maybe we can talk later.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Later.” When unicorns made an appearance at the county fair, I silently thought. “Have fun getting settled.” I glanced at Fish. “I’ll be chasing this story hard tomorrow.”

  He nodded without hesitation. “Keep me updated.”

  4 Four

  Eliot was already seated at our usual booth when I walked into the diner. He wasn’t alone, though. Jake and his girlfriend Lauren sat across from him, and the chummy scene was enough to momentarily steal my breath.

  My first instinct was to run. What was I so fearful of? I wasn’t self-aware enough to put a name to my emotions. Before I could decide what I wanted to do, Eliot lifted his head.

  In the dull lighting, he reminded me of a wolf sniffing out his mate. It was as if he sensed me. He broke into a wide grin and wave when our eyes locked. All thought of fleeing disappeared when I registered the warmth emanating from him. It was as if the fist gripping my heart lessened, and I gladly joined him at the booth.

  “Hey.” He leaned in and gave me a kiss. “It took you longer than I thought.”

  I flashed a smile for Lauren’s benefit. I legitimately liked her. Given the fact that Jake’s last girlfriend had been a nut of epic proportions — going so far as to want to kill me out of jealousy — I considered her a huge upgrade. Still, I felt out of my element as I settled at the table.

  “I got distracted,” I replied, realizing that talk of the new intern made for easy conversation that I didn’t have to worry about derailing our tenuous friendship with the other couple. “We have a new member of the editorial staff.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Jake arched an eyebrow and sipped his soda. “Anyone good? I heard Gordon Walker was fired from Channel 7. I wondered where he would land.”

  “It’s not Gordon. It’s an intern.”

  “Uh-oh.” Jake’s lips curved. “Fish didn’t pair the intern with you as some sort of punishment, did he? I can see him doing that after the whole Ludington debacle. He probably wants someone to report to him on your every move because you refuse to spend time in the office.”

  “He didn’t pair the new intern with me. I think he knows better than that. Besides, Duncan and Marvin are locked in a fight to the death to be named her mentor. There’s no room for me.”

  Eliot’s energy was easy as he rested his arm on the back of the booth, directly behind my shoulders. His touch was light, but it caused me to relax further. “A woman, huh? I’m guessing she’s pretty if those two are fighting for her attention.”

  “Marvin would date a circus freak if she put out,” I argued. “She’s definitely pretty, though. She’s also young.”

  “How young?”

  “I’m guessing she can’t drink. If she can, she can’t do it without showing her ID.”

  “Does that make you jealous?” Jake asked. He seemed to be in a relatively good mood despite the horror his men had uncovered by the railroad tracks a few hours earlier. I wanted to question him about it, but if I started digging now, he would clam up. I needed to lull him so I could finesse the information out of him. We’d yet to order, so I had time.

  “Are you asking if I’m jealous because Duncan and Marvin are fighting over a girl they’re old enough to have fathered?” The suggestion rankled. “I don’t get jealous.”

  “It’s true,” Eliot supplied. “She rarely shows her claws. A lesser man might be insecure.”

 
“You’re not a lesser man,” I noted.

  “I’m the king of men,” he agreed, winking. He seemed as if he didn’t have a care in the world. I had to wonder if it was an act or if he was as keyed up as I was. If he was feeling anxiety of any sort, he was a master at hiding it.

  “You’re ... something,” I agreed, smiling at the waitress as she delivered an iced tea. We were regulars at the diner and she knew my preferred drink.

  “Do you know what you want?” she asked. “The others have already ordered.”

  I faltered, surprised. “You ordered without me?” I demanded of Eliot, annoyed.

  “I knew you were on your way.” He studied me for a beat. “I guess jealousy is out of the question, but when it comes to food, I’m walking a thin line, huh?”

  The fact that he found amusement in my annoyance was another tear in my sanity. “I’m fine.” I glanced at the specials menu at the center of the table. “I’ll have two coneys with chili fries. No cheese.”

  The waitress nodded. Before she could leave, I added to the order. “I want some chicken wings with ranch, too.”

  Eliot’s eyebrows hopped. “Didn’t you eat lunch?”

  “I had salad,” I replied irritably. “Erin is on this new diet and she suggested fattoush salads. I thought it sounded like a good idea at the time. They weren’t very filling, though, and then I had to go out on an assignment.”

  “It’s okay.” He seemed surprised by my vehemence. “I’m not the food police. Don’t forget we’re taking chocolate cake home.”

  “I could never forget that.” I slid my gaze to Jake as the waitress wandered toward the kitchen. “Do you have any additional information?” Even though I planned on waiting, I had to get a few initial questions out of the way. He would be suspicious otherwise as I wasn’t known for my patience.

  “We included everything we’re releasing for the time being in the initial news release.”

  “That’s not really an answer.” I folded my arms across my chest and regarded him as I leaned back in the booth. “Was it a mob hit?”

  Jake’s expression never changed. He was a master at handling the media. Our past together, a childhood spent laughing, playing and later loving one another, worked against me where he was concerned. I could mess with law enforcement representatives from other townships and municipalities, but Jake was immune to my charms.