Mayhem & Mistletoe

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I let you have this morning.”

  We placed our orders and moved to the end of the counter to wait for our drinks. A man in a trench coat turned and almost collided with us. His eyes went wide.

  “Ms. Shaw.”

  I had to bite back a hot retort. I hated being called “Ms.” It was almost as annoying as being called “girl.” The man uttering the phrase was the publisher of The Monitor, and I knew better than to let my snark flag fly in his face. “Mr. MacDonald.”

  He smiled. “You can call me Jim.”

  “And you can call me Avery.”

  We stared at each other in silence before MacDonald turned his attention to Eliot.

  “I hear congratulations are in order.” He extended his hand.

  Confusion wrinkled Eliot’s forehead, but he gripped MacDonald’s hand anyway. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “On your engagement,” MacDonald said, causing me to cringe. “Avery was telling us all about it the other day.”

  “Really?” Eliot cocked an eyebrow my way. “I wasn’t under the impression she was spreading our happy news yet.”

  MacDonald appeared chagrined. “I’m sorry. Was I not supposed to mention anything?”

  Like he cared. “We’re not engaged,” I offered. “I said it was a possibility ... way down the line.”

  “Not so far down the line,” Eliot countered. “As for the engagement, it’s fair to say that we’re still hammering out the details.”

  “I see.” He said the words, but I very much doubted MacDonald understood. “Well, that’s lovely. I’m sure it will be a festive affair.”

  Eliot placed his hand on the small of my back, perhaps as a way to keep me in check, and maneuvered me around MacDonald. “It was nice seeing you.”

  It was a dismissal, plain and simple, but MacDonald didn’t take the bait. Instead, he focused on me. “Do you have anything new on the dead Santas?”

  I glanced around to see if anyone was listening — you never knew where sneaky media types might gather to try and steal my story — but it was just the three of us. “It’s still a work in progress. The sheriff’s department hasn’t released all the names yet.”

  “Yes, I’m confused about that.”

  “Sheriff Farrell doesn’t want any family members discovering their loved ones are dead until they’ve been officially notified,” I explained. “That’s a departmental rule ... and he’s a stickler for rules.”

  “When do you think the names will be made public?”

  “Hopefully today, but I have no control over the sheriff.”

  “I’ve heard differently, but that’s hardly important now. Keep at it. I’m sure you’ll come up with a good story.”

  “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

  MacDonald’s laugh was hollow. “Yes, well, keep me informed.” With that and a curt nod for Eliot, he was gone.

  “I don’t like that guy,” Eliot offered once the front door had closed and there was no chance of MacDonald overhearing us.

  “Join the club.”

  “Then why were you confiding in him about the wedding?”

  I froze. “I haven’t been confiding in anyone.”

  He waited.

  “I might — and I stress might — have been talking to Erin about things.”

  He brushed my hair from my face. “And what does Erin think?”

  “Erin bought one of those magazines with the ugly dresses.”

  A smirk emerged on his handsome face. “Did you see anything you liked? If so, I’ll give you my credit card if you want to buy it.”

  I couldn’t decide if I was more insulted by the idea he thought I might actually buy a frilly white monstrosity or that he thought I would take his credit card and go shopping. “I’m good, thanks.”

  He held my gaze. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re talking about this with other people. It means that you’re much farther along than I thought.”

  I hated how smug he sounded. “Erin blabbed to Fish and MacDonald. It wasn’t me.”

  “No, but you told Erin. That’s a big step.” He patted my shoulder. “What about Lexie and Carly? Did you tell them?”

  He had to be joking. “Carly is about to spew a human being from her loins.”

  He made a face. “That’s a lovely visual.”

  “She doesn’t have time for my crap,” I said. “As for Lexie, you know I can’t tell her.”

  The smile he’d been boasting disappeared. “She’s one of your best friends.”

  “And she has a huge mouth. If I tell her, she’ll tell my mother just to mess with me.”

  “Would that be such a terrible thing?”

  He had to be joking. “Do you want my mother calling you ten times a day to see where the wedding plans stand?”

  He hesitated and then shook his head. “No. I guess not. She might be excited enough to let things go, though. She’s told me at least a hundred times that she never thought she’d be able to unload you on someone until I came along. I think she’ll be happy.”

  “She’s also a control freak. She’ll take over.”

  He looked as if he wanted to continue arguing, but finally held out his hands. “This is your show. I’m gratified you’re talking to someone, even if it’s not who I expected.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re happy. You know I only care about your feelings.”

  That drew a smile. “You’re doing really well, Trouble. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you seem to be getting with the program ... and in record time.”

  It had been weeks since he’d dropped the bomb. I had to wonder what he considered “record” time. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

  “That’s exactly what I was going to say to you.”

  I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SAY IT, but I was happy to go into work. Eliot was growing bolder with his marriage talk — with my help — and the realization that he was likely right, and I would grow to accept what he had to offer, was a sobering thought.

  I ignored the woman behind the reception desk as I entered the lobby, not bothering to make eye contact. I wasn’t a small-talk kind of gal unless it involved breaking down movies or television shows. Yes, I was still bitter about the Game of Thrones finale.

  I cut through one of the conference rooms, one that had dual entrances and served as a shortcut to my desk. Reporters’ row was busier than I expected. A small cluster of people grouped around one of the desks. I wondered who stood sat at the center of the scrum.

  Then I heard a voice.

  “I don’t know why I did it,” an enthusiastic female trilled. Sabrina had one of those voices impossible to ignore ... or forget. “I don’t even remember making a conscious decision to do it. I just stood there, behind the tree, and watched for a long time.

  “I mean ... she’s Avery Shaw,” she continued. “She’s larger than life. I’ve heard all these stories — and I expected her to do something to save herself — but then the moment was upon me. Avery was going to die. I had to be willing to risk myself to save her.”

  That was a lot of crap and I had to bite my tongue to keep from exploding. I was in control of that situation from start to finish. I didn’t need her.

  “And you just happen to carry a Taser?” another voice asked, causing me to jerk up my head. Marvin worked nights. What was he doing here so early in the morning? He didn’t even get up before ten o’clock most days. If it was a weekend and he’d managed to pick up a woman, he slept until noon.

  “My parents were sticklers for self-defense,” Sabrina replied. “They wanted to make sure that I was capable of taking care of myself. I don’t want to toot my own horn or anything ....”

  “Go ahead and toot away,” Marvin encouraged, a faraway look in his eyes. “Toot it like crazy.”

  Sabrina barreled forward. “My parents always told me that pretty girls were more likely to get grabbed in parking lots after dark. I’m sure it wasn’t just parking lots, but they always said par
king lots.

  “I grew up with this irrational fear of being alone in a parking lot, so I bought a Taser to protect myself,” she continued. “I’ve had it since I was seventeen. I carry it everywhere. Some people say I get worked up for no reason, but I proved them wrong last night.”

  “Yes, you’re a total hero,” Marvin agreed. “I bet you looked like a blond Wonder Woman when you sprang into action. Was Avery impressed?”

  “She was grateful,” Sabrina replied. “I don’t think very much impresses her. I’m still working on that.”

  “Why would you even care?” Duncan countered, drawing my eyes to the other side of reporters’ row. His desk was located at the far end of the room. He wasn’t even supposed to walk down the aisle because it often resulted in the two of us sniping at one another. Obviously the rules had somehow evaporated overnight.

  “Why would I care about what?” Sabrina asked blankly.

  “About impressing Avery Shaw. She’s a menace.”

  “She’s the best reporter here,” Sabrina countered.

  “No, that’s what she tells people.” Duncan was never going to be a fan of mine, but how he could argue I wasn’t The Monitor’s best reporter was beyond me. “She’s not a professional. She doesn’t have a good relationship with the politicians. I’m ten times the reporter she is.”

  That was enough to snap Marvin out of his reverie. “Please. You’re not even a reporter. You’re a desk jockey. You work on the copy desk.”

  “That’s an important job,” Duncan fired back. “I don’t take weak writing assignments. I’m too talented for that. I only wait for the big stories. Avery takes everything.”

  “I thought that was the job of a reporter,” Sabrina challenged meekly.

  “It is.” Suddenly, Marvin’s flirtatious energy had been replaced by annoyance. “Don’t listen to him. He’s likes to hear himself talk. He’s not a valuable member of the team.”

  “Excuse me?” Duncan’s eyebrows practically rose to his receding hairline. “I am the most valuable member of this team. I’m smart ... driven ... and I have a high IQ. I can cut through the bull faster than everyone else here combined.”

  Well, that was all I needed to hear. I stepped forward, essentially announcing my presence, and pushed through some of the bodies crowding my desk. “Yes, all anyone can smell when they’re around you is the bull ... crap.”

  Duncan didn’t seem alarmed at being caught talking about me. It was hardly a surprise. We talked badly about each other constantly. That wasn’t about to change. “Look who graced us with her presence.”

  Sabrina, who had been sitting in my desk chair, quickly hopped to her feet. “How are you feeling? I’m so glad to see you. Did you have nightmares? I was just telling everyone about saving you from that monster.”

  “I heard.” It took everything I had not to lose my temper. She had stepped in at the right moment and served up a terrific distraction. The fact that she was telling everyone she’d saved me was a hard slap in the face, though. And it wasn’t true. No matter what anyone said, I had that situation under control.

  “So, are you feeling better?” Sabrina’s gaze was expectant. “I bet you bounced right back because you’re Avery Shaw. You’re tough. You’re back on the job despite the PTSD you’re likely feeling. Where are we going today?”

  That was a very good question. Instead of responding, I lifted a finger and stepped around her. “I’ll be right back.” I headed for Fish’s desk. He looked to be shrinking as I approached.

  “Don’t even bother complaining,” he started. “She’s going with you. I kept her out of your hair yesterday.”

  “You kept her out of my hair?” That was the most ludicrous thing I’d ever heard. “I dumped her on Jake and then demanded you keep her busy. She still found a way to follow me to Detroit.” Speaking of that, I’d yet to fully question her on how she’d managed that. That was a conversation that was yet to come. “I can’t deal with her.”

  “You’ll have to. She’s decided you’re the best reporter in the world despite the fact that you probably didn’t thank her for saving your life.”

  “Hey, I saved my own life.”

  Fish shook his head. “That’s not the way I heard it.”

  “Well, you heard wrong. I’m totally capable of taking care of myself. She threw herself into the mix because she likes attention.”

  “Sounds like someone else I know.”

  The dig wasn’t lost on me. “I am nothing like her. I mind my own business.”

  He snorted. “Right.”

  I studied him for a moment. There were multiple ways I could go with this. Ultimately, I decided being bossy was the best avenue. “I will be really mean to her if you send her with me,” I hissed. “I’ll make her cry.”

  He was unruffled. “It’s still better than the alternative.”

  “Not if, once she comes back crying, Duncan and Marvin decided to console her. I bet one of them tries to use his penis to do it.”

  Fish’s mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Oh, please. I’ve said way worse ... and this week.” I refused to let him break eye contact. “I have information I need to track down today. I can’t have her dragging me down. She needs to be someone else’s responsibility.”

  “Do you have any suggestions?”

  I would’ve preferred someone chain her to a desk and force her to write obits, but I knew that suggestion was likely to result in me getting stuck with her. “Marvin will say goofy stuff. He won’t be aggressive. He’s a good reporter. Tell her you need to spread the wealth.”

  Fish didn’t look convinced, but he ultimately nodded. “Fine. She can go with Marvin ... but just today. You’ll have to put up with her trailing you again at some point.”

  That was a problem for a different time. “That’s fine. Now, do you want to be the one to tell her where she’s spending the day, or should I do it?”

  “I’m the boss.”

  That did little to sway me. “I’ll do it. You’ll just screw it up.”

  Fish’s glare was pronounced. “I can’t tell you how I love our little tete-a-tetes. They’re just so gratifying.”

  “I know. I’m all sorts of awesome.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  “And yet look what I heard. That’s why I’ll explain things to Sabrina. I’m in charge now. Just sit back and let me do the heavy lifting. I’m good at it.”

  “If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”

  15 Fifteen

  Sabrina didn’t take the news that Marvin would be her mentor for the day well. She complained, whined and made me realize my decision to never have children was the right one. I had to lie to get her to back off ... which was fine with me, because she was unbelievably annoying.

  After leaving the newspaper office, I stopped at Eliot’s shop. My cousin Mario continued to work shifts for him even though he was training a new worker on the night shift. Because he was related to me, Mario’s personality sucked up most of the oxygen in the room.

  “There she is.” Mario beamed as I entered. “How’s my favorite cousin?”

  “Suspicious,” I answered without pause. “What are you up to?”

  “What makes you think I’m up to anything?” Mario was the picture of innocence. Er, well, as innocent as an overweight guy with back hair issues in his early twenties could look. “I’m helping your boyfriend in a time of crisis. That indicates I’m the good one in this family right now.”

  “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” I let myself into Eliot’s office without knocking. I didn’t miss the annoyed look on his face when he glanced up. “Has the love already died?”

  His frown disappeared almost instantly. “I thought you were Mario. He’s driving me crazy.”

  “I warned you when you hired him.”

  “You thought it was a good idea.”

  “For him. That food truck he runs with Grandpa doesn’t make money when it
’s cold. I never said it was good for you.”

  He ran his tongue over his teeth as he regarded me. “Have I ever mentioned what a joy you are to me?”

  “Several times.”

  “I’m not feeling it today.” He went back to staring at his computer. “Not that I’m not glad to see you — and for the record, I’m kind of not glad at this particular moment — but what are you doing here?”

  “Yup. The love is definitely gone.”

  He pinned me with a dark look. “Talk.”

  “I was hoping you’d come up with something for me to chase.” There was no sense lying ... unless I could genuinely benefit from it, of course. “I’m in the mood to dig but my options aren’t all that exciting.”

  That drew a smirk. “I just saw you an hour ago. What sort of information do you think I’ve managed to dig up?”

  “I don’t know. You’ve convinced me in the past that you’re a miracle worker. And you came up with Ray.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve been going over the books since I separated from you. Did you know Mario tried to pick up a teenager with a tiara he undersold from my stock yesterday?”

  The conversational shift threw me. “How did you find that out?”

  “I checked the cameras when I realized the tiara was gone.”

  “He gave it to her?”

  “He sold it to her for half price. He said that since it had been sitting in the shop for a year, he thought he was doing me a favor.”

  I agreed with Mario — and yet I didn’t want to tick off Eliot in case he decided not to help me — so I nodded, hoping I looked sympathetic. “Total bummer.”

  He continued staring at the monitor. “You don’t care.”

  “I care.” That wasn’t remotely true. “I just don’t understand why you care about a tiara. It’s not as if it had real diamonds.”

  “No, but this was a collector’s piece from one of those high-end teenybopper shops.”

  “But it sat here for a year.”

  “More like eight months. Prom season is coming up. I figured it would sell again in the spring.”

  “So, take it out of his paycheck.”