“I think you’re right. When I knocked on her door, she said she’d be down in a few minutes. I was going to do a last-minute check to see if everything is in order. Care to join me?”
“I’ll wait here. Just in case…you know.”
Rick held up his hands in a gesture of futility. “One never knows when there will be need of a rescue team. But I have an idea. Let’s see how quickly she can make it down here.” He pulled out his phone and typed a message to Alex. “This ought to get her attention.”
My date and I are waiting in the lobby.
He showed the message to Marquetta, whose cheeks brightened. “I’m okay with that. I say one minute. Tops.”
“Half that,” Rick said.
Within seconds of Rick sending the text, a door slammed and there were running footsteps on the second floor. Alex appeared at the top of the stairs, a wide grin on her face and breathing heavily.
When she got to the bottom of the stairs, Rick pointed at her. “You have enough lights to illuminate all of Seaside Cove.” He winked at Marquetta, then pointed at Alex’s sweater. “And, would you look at that, every one of them is working perfectly.”
Alex did a little twirl. “You like it?”
“Very Christmasy,” Rick said.
“I thought you needed help, Sweetie.”
Rick’s breath caught as Marquetta came from behind the desk. Now he understood. She’d been hiding because her sweatshirt dress came to mid thigh and she wore black mesh leggings. He’d never thought about it before, but Marquetta had legs. And he hadn’t felt so tongue-tied since his first date.
“Whoa,” Alex said. “That dress is so hot.”
Marquetta’s cheeks flushed to a deep red and she tugged on the hem. Alex was right; the dress—and the woman wearing it—were very hot.
“Alex, I think you’ve embarrassed Marquetta,” Rick said.
“It’s fine. I’m just not used to being complimented on my appearance.”
“Then we gotta do more complimenting.” Alex chirped. She turned her attention to Rick. “Right, Daddy?”
“Cool your jets, kiddo. Not everyone is as uninhibited as you are.”
Alex cocked her head to one side. “Isn’t that like where nobody lives?”
Marquetta kneeled before Alex so she was at eye level. “That’s uninhabited. Uninhibited is what you are.” She tapped Alex’s forehead, then her lips. “Everything goes straight from your brain to your mouth with no filter.”
“Oh.” Alex smiled at Marquetta. “I don’t need a filter ‘cause it would just get in the way.”
“Kiddo, your logic amazes me. This is a debate only one person is going to win, and I have a feeling that person is going to be you.” Rick chuckled and went to the door. “May I accompany you two lovely ladies to the Annual Seaside Cove Ugly Sweater Contest?”
They arrived at The Crooked Mast at the same time as Joe Gray and his wife Peggy. Rick and Joe narrowly avoided an umbrella collision as they all dashed inside. Devon was already there and was deep into a three-way conversation along with the restaurant’s owner, Ken Grayson, and Rick’s attorney, Jordan Lane.
Rick went to say hello to the men while Alex and Marquetta took their potluck dishes to a large table that was already filled with food. As Rick listened to the conversation, he noticed a couple of the other people wore the same sweater as Ken—black yarn dotted with planets and stars and featuring Santa riding a unicorn.
“I wish I’d thought of a team entry,” Rick said.
Ken’s face flushed bright red as he pulled on the collar of his sweater. “There’s no team here. This was Thorne Waldorf’s doing.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s not your fault.” Ken shook his head. “I don’t even know why I’m wearing this stupid thing. If he shows up, I’m throwing him out.”
“That might be stretching your rights as a business owner a bit, but I’d defend you anyway,” Jordan gave Ken a sly smile. “We can bring the monstrosity you’re wearing in as evidence.”
“So why are you wearing it then?” Rick asked.
“It appears Thorne decided he wanted to distribute Christmas sweaters as an apology for being such a jerk all year. Laurel got one, too.” Devon pointed at the owner of the sandal shop, Hot Feet.
Jordan looked around the room, then shook his head. “Thorne has this perverse sense of humor, and I suspect he wanted to embarrass a few people.”
“Really?” Rick frowned, still trying to figure out Thorne Waldorf. “Why would he do such a thing?”
Ken stroked his jaw, then shrugged. “I tried to ask him that question last night, but didn’t get an answer. I’d love to hear it though. Maybe I’ll just beat it out of him.”
Devon leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Don’t let him get to you, Ken. And you don’t want to go around making threats in public. You don’t need the legal bills.” He nudged Jordan with his elbow. “Because this guy wouldn’t handle that suit for free. Would you?”
Jordan pursed his lips. “I’m not sure. We might make some sort of argument about temporary insanity.” As if he were trying to change the subject, he turned to Rick. “Well, how’s the town’s most eligible bachelor doing?”
Rick rolled his eyes. “Please, let’s not go there. So how many people got these sweaters?”
“We’re not sure,” Devon said. “But the night is young, and Thorne made a lot of enemies this year.”
“I’ve put up with the man for too long,” Ken grumbled. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to check what’s going on in the kitchen.”
When Ken was out of range, Rick said, “He’s angry.”
“It’s just been a bad day for him.” Jordan nodded, then smiled slightly as his eyes flicked over Rick’s shoulder. “Hey, hey, Mr. Bachelor. Bogey, two o’clock.”
Rick craned his neck to see what…or who…Jordan was looking at.
An older woman with red hair was coming his way with a younger version of herself in tow. Rick’s stomach sank when the woman smiled at him, raised her hand in a wave, and wiggled her fingers like a piano player limbering up.
Rick quickly turned back to Jordan. “What is this? An ambush?”
The attorney shook his head and sipped his drink. “Not of my doing. But you, my friend, you are about to meet entry number twelve in the Richard Atwood marriage competition.”
“Number…no way.” Rick muttered.
Devon chuckled. “You look like you need something stronger than punch, Rick.”
Jordan held up his left hand. “It pays to get hitched in this town. You, buddy, have been here for a year. The clock is ticking and there are twenty-two mothers who want you to marry their daughters. They’re getting antsy. The pressure increases with each passing day.”
“This can’t be happening. Not tonight.”
“Especially tonight,” Devon chuckled.
“What am I? A pet being sold off to the highest bidder?”
Jordan raised his glass in front of his lips. “Now there’s a thought. By the way, it’s showtime.”
Devon glanced at Jordan, then Rick. “I can’t watch this,” he said as he darted away.
“Hi, Phyllis,” Jordan said with a forced smile.
“Jordan!”
The two exchanged air kisses, then the woman faced Rick. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“My manners,” Jordan said quickly. “Rick, this is…”
“Phyllis Davies.” The woman thrust out her hand, grabbed Rick’s, then clamped her other hand down to create a vice-like grip.
Forget the comparison to a pet, Rick thought. This was more like trapping a wild animal. He searched the room desperately for Alex. “My daughter is around here somewhere.”
“You and my daughter have so much in common.”
“Oh?” Rick asked involuntarily.
Phyllis reached out and grabbed the elbow of a young woman standing just behind her. “Don’t be shy now, dear. Introduce yourself.”<
br />
The girl’s cheeks burned bright pink and her brown eyes narrowed like lasers on her mother. Even though Rick knew he was the target of Phyllis’s ambush, he felt sorry for the girl. She obviously wanted as little to do with her mother’s attempt to arrange a marriage as he did. He held out his hand and smiled. “I’m Rick.”
Before the girl could answer, Phyllis said, “She’s a writer, too! What name are you using this year, dear?”
CHAPTER 10
ALEX
I’m pumped ‘cause a couple of my friends are here. Sasha Bell is like my best friend—even though she’s kind of a math nerd. A lot of the kids don’t like her ‘cause she’s so smart, but I think she’s cool. Robbie Sachetti is here, too. He’s kinda like my boyfriend—he just doesn’t know it yet. Robbie’s got blue eyes and blond hair and his sweater is kinda lame ‘cause it’s just a red sweater with a Christmas tree. But it kinda fits him ‘cause Robbie’s a boy and boys don’t care about what they wear.
Robbie’s dad is here, but his mom is home ‘cause she got hurt in a bad car accident. Robbie says she’s getting better, but she gets tired real easy.
Sasha’s sweater is super cool. It says ‘Feliz Navidad’ and when I asked her what that meant she told me it was Merry Christmas in Spanish. Sasha’s mom is from Brazil, so Sasha has an awesome tan and and she never gets sunburned like I do. Daddy says my freckles and red hair make me cute, but I’d rather look like Sasha. She’s also a total hugger and that’s how we got to be such good friends. Me and her are both what my dad calls fearless. That’s another reason we get along so good; the other is she helps me with my math homework.
The three of us are talking about the party and trying to guess who’s going to win in the sweater contest. Sasha and Robbie say I should definitely get the Best Ugly Sweater award.
“I’m good with that,” I say as I look around the room. When I see my dad, he’s talking to Mr. Lane and a lady I don’t know. It totally looks like Daddy wants to get away. I point at them. “Who’s that with my dad?”
Sasha looks over at them. “That’s Mrs. Davies and her daughter.”
“My dad says she’s a wannabe writer,” Robbie says. “He says she’s like got all these unfinished books. She uses a different name for each one. She’s calling herself Darcy this year.”
We all laugh. That’s funny. A new name every year.
“You gotta watch out for her, Alex. Mrs. Davies is super anxious to get Darcy married.”
“Oh, man, not again. She’s one of the mothers in the marriage competition?”
Sasha nods.
“Having a writer for a mom might not be too bad, Alex. It might be kinda fun,” Robbie says.
I stare at him. Seriously? Doesn’t he get it? “I don’t want a writer for a mom. I already had an actor and look where that got me. Besides, look at her. She acts like she’s totally into herself.” I take a deep breath and make up my mind. “We gotta break this up. Plus it’ll be perfect for my new job.”
“You have a job? A real one?” Robbie’s jaw drops and he stares at me.
“I’m a reporter for the Cove Talkers Newsletter. But you can’t tell anybody. It’s a secret. Even my dad doesn’t know yet.”
“Awesome.” Sasha gives me a high five. She’s got this huge smile and is nodding, but Robbie’s not looking happy at all.
“You’re not gonna get us in trouble, are you, Alex?”
I wish I didn’t get so mushy when Robbie looks at me like that, but this is important. We’re gonna need a plan, so I ignore his question.
“Come on, Robbie. You gotta help.”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Sasha says.
Robbie shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest like he’s mad, but he’ll totally go along.
“We’re good then. We’re gonna call it Operation Save Daddy. And it’ll give me my first story for the newsletter.”
CHAPTER 11
RICK
The young woman standing before Rick glared at her mother and snapped, “It’s Darcy, Mother. I’m using the pen name of Darcy Willoughby.” She pushed back the strands of hair falling over the right side of her face.
Phyllis screwed up her face and huffed. “I’ve told you, dear, you really need a better cut.”
“Phyllis?” Jordan said. “Why don’t you and I go get some punch? I think Rick and…Darcy…could use a moment to get to know each other.”
“Oh, I suppose.”
Rick’s jaw tightened as Jordan took Phyllis’s elbow and guided her away.
“My mother.” Darcy sighed. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” Rick said. “So, Darcy, I take it you’ve used other names?”
She rose slightly on her tiptoes and laughed. “I always use a pen name. It’s the only way to success. Mama just can’t accept that I won’t use my birth name.”
“That bad?”
Darcy rolled her eyes and let out another melodramatic sigh. “That bad. So, how’s it feel to be the catch of the day?”
“Surprisingly warm.” Rick tugged at the collar of his sweater. “I don’t know how the town keeps ignoring it, but in the interest of full disclosure, I’m still married.”
“In the interest of full disclosure, I should warn you I have no interest in marriage.” She winked. “I’ve declared a moratorium on men.”
“Touché,” Rick said. “You should also know I’ve been working on the same mystery novel for about six years. It should be finished by the time I’m…oh, say seventy.”
“I’m way more serious.” Darcy’s laugh was light. Kind of high-pitched and musical. And now that her mother was gone, the girl’s complexion was looking more peaches-and-cream than apple red.
“I can imagine your photo on the back of a book.”
She cocked her head to one side. “Thank you. At least someone can. I write historical romance.” Darcy paused, licked her lips, and said, “What? No snide comments about bodice-ripper book covers?”
“Hey, what’s not to like about bare-chested men and damsels in distress? How long have you been writing?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a writer.”
“Let me guess. You penned your first novel when you were a kid.”
“How’d you know? I was six and used three different crayon colors. I’ve been to conferences and classes. I even entered a competition once.”
“Really? How’d you do?”
Her smile fell, and she glanced away. “I’m not sure how much longer I can live here,” she said absently.
Rick followed her gaze. Alex was standing in the corner with two of her friends. Why did he have the feeling they were up to something? He dismissed the thought—they were just kids at a party.
“Sorry, I was watching my daughter. Why do you want to leave Seaside Cove? Too small-town?”
“I need to be somewhere more vibrant. This town stagnates my muse.” She shook her hair and brushed back the same strands that had fallen forward before.
“Where would you go?”
Darcy waved her arm in an expansive circle. “I’d travel. I need world experiences to expand my writing.”
Rick had to say one thing for her, this girl was flamboyant. “How many books have you written?”
“Six or seven.”
“Impressive.” Rick nodded, but had the sense his question should have been how many she’d completed. “But…?”
Darcy’s eyes flicked around the room, then settled on a spot to Rick’s left, which he suddenly realized was the girl’s mother. She appeared to be ensconced in a lively discussion with several others. Even so, it was as if the woman had ESP. She turned, smiled, and finger-waved to Rick. He smiled back, then checked to see where Alex was.
Across the room, Alex carried a tray of hors de oeuvres and Robbie followed with a tray on which he had glasses of punch. Sasha was also mingling. She, too, had a tray like Robbie’s. His heartbeat kicked up a notch. It was probably nothing.
“Something wrong?” D
arcy asked.
“No,” Rick said tentatively, raising his voice to compensate for the rising hum level in the room. “I guess I’m just a little too suspicious. So, you said you have six books—or seven…” He let the last word hang in the air.
Darcy sighed again, and Rick suppressed a chuckle. Everybody had a thing, and those melodramatic exhalations appeared to be hers.
“They need endings,” she whispered. “Don’t tell Mama. She thinks they’re all out with agents.”
“Our little secret,” Rick said with a wink. “Is that what would come from traveling?”
“Absolutely. I could finish them off in a heartbeat if I just had a publisher. The market is so difficult. Have you found that, too?”
“Mine’s really more of a hobby. I haven’t…”
Darcy turned her attention away from Rick and scanned the room. “I have to stay here because my mother will have a fit if I leave too soon.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t want to sound rude, but I don’t think we’re very compatible.”
“I thought you’d declared a moratorium on men. We were talking about your writing aspirations.”
Darcy seemed to ignore his comment. “The problem is I went through a nasty breakup recently.” Her mouth opened and she sucked in a breath. “Mama doesn’t know about it. You can’t tell anyone.”
“My lips are sealed.” He made a zipping motion and chuckled. “We’ll have two secrets.”
“Oh good.”
Darcy again surveyed the room. Rick let her finish, then asked, “Are you looking for a friend?”
“No. Not so much a friend anymore. I just don’t want things to get awkward. You know?”
He didn’t. Unless maybe the person she was looking for was the one who’d been part of the nasty breakup. Rick was tempted to act like Devon and pry. No. He wouldn’t. But this was a party and those who were here had come to mingle and spread good cheer. If the sound level in the room was any indicator, there was a lot of that going around.
“So I take it your mother forced you to come here tonight?”
Darcy rolled her eyes while brushing back her auburn hair. “No. Mama’s the one who didn’t want to be here. I insisted.”
The Killer Christmas Sweater Club Page 4
