Flashy & Flirty Christmas Anthology

by Ellie Mack

  “Mom, do we have chocolate chips?” Olivia called.

  “We might, why?” Ashley walked toward the house. She stepped inside with her daughter.

  “I want to make cookies.” Olivia bounced back into the kitchen.

  “Um…okay.” Ashley stripped out of her winter gear only to step into the kitchen that looked like its own version of a winter wonderland. Flour dusted everything.

  “I’m sorry. I made a mess.” Olivia apologized as she climbed back up onto the barstool.

  “It’s fine,” Ashley spoke. “Next time, though, wait for me to help.” She sighed as she moved to the fridge. In the door sat a partial bag of chocolate chips. She grabbed it and headed over to help her daughter mix them.

  “Thank you.” Olivia poured the chocolate into the dough. She then added a container of sprinkles.

  “Whoa.” Ashley laughed, stopping her from adding another. She wrapped her hand around Olivia’s to help her stir the sugar filled treats. “Can I ask why we are making these delicious cookies?” She asked helping her daughter roll them into balls and put them on the cookie sheet. Ashley picked up the cookie sheet to put into the stove.

  “For Mr. Holland,” Olivia chimed in with a grin.

  Ashley stumbled, nearly sending the uncooked cookies to the ground. “And why would we be making Mr. Holland cookies after what he has done for us?”

  “Because he’s sad. That is why he keeps ruining our Christmas stuff.”

  “You think?” Ashley let out a soft sigh as she tucked the cookies into the oven.

  “They always make me feel better.” Olivia beamed at her mother. “I’ll make a special card to go with it.”

  Once they finished, the pair of them tucked the warm cookies into a lined tin. Ashley helped her tape the card to the top, and they walked over to give Mr. Holland his special cookies. She let Olivia knock on the door first, but nobody answered. Ashley followed it up with a harder knock. Still no answer.

  Ashley tried the handle, but it didn’t budge. “Mr. Holland!” She called. She slammed her shoulder into it. Images of the old man fallen and unable to get up floated through her head or even worse him lying there dead.

  As she went to slam into the door another time, hoping to dislodge the door. It swung open, spilling her onto the floor. The wind escaped her lungs as she laid there.

  “What are you doing here?” Mr. Holland sneered.

  “Whoa.” Olivia burst into the house. The special tin still clasped in her hands.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Mr. Holland snapped over his shoulder “Do you always burst into peoples’ homes? Didn’t your parents teach you any better?”

  “We thought something had happened to you,” Ashley spoke as she stood.

  “You hoped something happened to me.” Mr. Holland left her, heading for Olivia.

  Ashley’s eyes were huge as she stared at a house filled with what looked like a winter escapade. There was cotton snow on the floor, twinkle lights along the ceiling, and a Christmas village set up. That was where she found her daughter, bent over the miniatures.

  “Don’t touch,” Mr. Holland snapped, moving for an old rocker tucked in among the dust-covered things.

  “It’s beautiful,” Olivia said.

  Mr. Holland harrumphed as he went back to watching the television that was on silent. “You two can leave now. I’m clearly still alive.”

  “Why do you keep tearing up all our stuff when your house looks like this?” Ashley asked.

  “That is my wife’s. She was the Christmas nut,” Mr. Holland stated.

  “This is incredible. Where is she?” Ashley looked around, expecting to see the old woman.

  “That is none of your business,” Mr. Holland snapped.

  “We baked you these special cookies. Maybe you can share them with her.” Olivia took the tin over to the old man.

  “Why?” Mr. Holland hesitated before taking the tin.

  “To bring you Christmas cheer.” Olivia smiled at him, unafraid of the brash man.

  Mr. Holland set the tin in his lap. He opened the card, reading it. Tears filled his eyes before he lifted the lid of the tin. He watched Olivia and ate a cookie, and then offered them one.

  “My wife has been gone for years, and my children no longer come around,” he explained.

  “We are your family now.” Olivia smiled as she sat on the footstool. “We will celebrate together. Right, Mommy?” She looked at her mother.

  Ashley smiled, meeting Mr. Holland’s eyes. “Right.”

  “I don’t need no family. Haven’t had one in years,” he grumbled taking another bite of the cookie.

  “Everyone needs family at Christmas.” Olivia smiled. “We don’t have family either. Just us.”

  “Why don’t you have family?” Mr. Holland watched the girl.

  “My dad died too. Last year.” Olivia’s face fell.

  Mr. Holland glanced between the girls. “Now we have each other. I suppose.”

  “We do.” Olivia’s face lit up.

  “Family is what you make it, and now we are each other’s,” Ashley agreed with a smile.

  About Misty Harvey

  Misty Harvey loves writing spine-tingling horror or dark fantasy novels sure to thrill readers. The psychology behind such tales has always been a fascination for her since she was younger. Even to the point that she once contemplated taking up psychology as a profession. Still, her love resides in the art of storytelling. An art she wishes to continue to share with readers for the rest of her days.

  After climbing out of her writing cave and searching the house for the sound of the latest creak or pop, Misty can be found doing one of many things. Often times she spends the remainder of her day with her amazingly supportive husband and youngest daughter. While she has two older children that are out there spreading their wings around the world, including giving her a few grandchildren.

  Her favorite things to do when not writing are crafts, wrestling with her dog, avoiding her cat’s bite or generally making her husband and daughter crazy. Often times she can be found creating vivid tales with her daughter about whatever mundane thing happened in their day and turning it into a crazy story. She is also an avid gamer, crochet goddess (we shall pretend there), domestic queen, and animal tamer (it’s a work in progress).

  You can connect with Misty Harvey through various other places such as Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, and Instagram.

  Blog: https://mistyharvey.com/

  Simone added the final ornament to her tree, then stepped back to admire her work.

  It was perfect!

  Staging houses around the holidays was her favorite. Her business was booming, and she had a tidy account as well as investments. She was the most in-demand stager in the entire metropolitan area, and as such, she set her rates.

  She moved to the kitchen, adjusting the red and gold blown glass bowl on the counter that she had acquired for super cheap at an estate auction. Auctions and estate sales were a great place to get stuff! She had several high-end collectibles and unique pieces in the old warehouse that she’d bought.

  Walking through the newly remodeled home, no one would ever know what a trash heap it had been when Cort bought it. If it had been her, she would have had it razed.

  He was due any minute. She hoped that this was the night he would pop the question.

  Cort McClain was the top selling real estate agent in the region. The Homes Channel was considering him for a series to begin in the spring of the following year. One of the executives suggested a married man would be considered more trustworthy than a single man. Simone took the opportunity to drop the hint for a 4-carat ring and a promising, financially smart match.

  He wasn't her only client by any means. She had contracts with the top four real estate offices in the area, working with over forty agents. She had dated a few of the men over the past three years of building her business when Cort caught her eye. Simone paid close attention to who were the top agents in any giv
en office and used that information to zero in on the best candidate for her future Mister. She had even considered a couple individual homeowners as candidates, but they didn't cut the muster.

  A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned, seeing Cort's Mercedes in the drive. Warm fuzzies and a huge smile spread.

  Wait! Was that?

  She watched out the window as Cort leaned across to the passenger side, locking lips with a buxom brunette. "What the hell?"

  "Hey, Simone! The place looks great as usual."

  He gave the area a cursory glance. "That rug looks great!"

  "Who's the brunette?" Simone asked as she pursed her lips and folded her arms.

  "Is that a Chihuly? Where did you get this one? Man, I would love to have this."

  He seemed anxious to leave and ignored her question. He'd seen the bowl before.

  "Who's the brunette, Cort?" She didn't budge.

  He laid the paperwork out on the counter to sign. "She's an executive from the Homes Channel. We are negotiating a contract for my show. Pretty much a done deal! Isn't that great?" He clicked his pen to sign.

  "And sleeping with that whore is part of the contract?" Her jaw was stern.

  "No. Her name is Adrian and she's one of the executives. Not the CEO, but pretty far up there.”

  "Huh.” Simone glanced out the window at Adrian making a duck face in the mirror admiring her ruby red lipstick. "So, I guess this means we're through?"

  "Yeah, sorry. I wanted to break it to you gently. Guess I failed at that."

  Simone wasn't exactly the romantic type, but she sure as hell deserved better than this.

  It took every ounce of self-control not to bash him over the head with the Chihuly bowl. She waited as he signed the forms and her check.

  She wished she had never agreed to give him the friends and family discount rate. Which was a Cort only rate because she thought this holiday held a 4-carat promise for her, but she was obviously wrong.

  As she held the check in her hand and read it, she saw that it should have another zero behind the three that were there.

  "Next week, I'll have that house on Spruce ready to show. Think you can fit me in to stage that one?"

  That was it. She couldn’t stand it as he babbled on about his career and Adrian. “You like the Chihuly?”

  “Yes. Maybe I’ll buy it from you after the open house. Or maybe, you can give it to me for a present?” He tried to make a smolder, and it just pissed her off.

  “Sure! Merry Fucking Christmas!” She raised the heavy bowl and bashed him in the head with it as she spoke.

  He crumpled like a rag-doll onto the floor in front of her and lay motionless. She kicked him a couple times for good measure before bending to feel his pulse. Yeah, he was still alive. She went through the house trashing everything she could. Flinging the tree to the floor, throwing the towels on the floor, turning the faucets on, and stripping the bed before dumping the vase of lilies. She overturned the furniture in the living room, which surprisingly, didn't seem to take a lot of effort

  When she had worked out her frustrations, she checked on him again before taking his pen and adding the zero to her check.

  “The 4-carat ring would have been less expensive.” Just for good measure, she emptied the trash bin over him. The liquidy residuals from carry-out Chinese splattered on his chest. She walked out to the woman in the car.

  "Hi! Cort is going to be a little longer. He found some issues that need to be tidied up and a small leak in the bathroom. He said for you to just sit tight, he'd be out in about thirty minutes. Merry Christmas.” She forced a smile. "Oh, and make sure he uses protection. He tested positive last month."

  She sped off flipping them the bird.

  "My ride's here. Have a good one!" Tony tossed over his shoulder as he hoisted his duffle, heading out the door.

  "Yeah, you too! See ya next year." Clint had one more final before he could head home for the holidays. He had his bags packed, all he had to do was a few tidying things before checking out of the dorm. Now he needed to focus on this last final.

  Biomedical studies was his most difficult class. The final on toxicology and bacterial pathogens had him stressed to the max. His entire future hinged on this test! Getting an A he meant keeping his scholarship. He desperately needed an A in this class because he already knew he was getting two Bs.

  Well, not all of his plans hung in the balance. He held his head in his hands, elbows propped on the desk, staring at the book, looking right through it. He had to focus on this final, not Kayla.

  Last Christmas played in his head. He gave her an engagement ring, but she gave the ring back the day after Christmas, breaking up. It was all for the best, he kept reasoning with himself. He had another year to finish his Bachelor's, then years for his Master’s, then a Doctorate and internship, practicum.

  Nope! He didn't have time for a relationship, and she had done him a solid!

  He didn't take the rejection well and ended up crashing his dad's truck, landing his drunken ass in jail.

  He never wanted to be in that place again. It was part of why his future hinged on the scholarship, because his savings went to pay lawyer fees, replace his dad's truck, and medical bills.

  "Focus!" He took a swig of his Coke, nervously flipping the pen against the paper. His eyes blurred. It was as if his brain refused to absorb any more information.

  "Fine!" He closed his book, stuffed it into his backpack, and headed out at a brisk pace. “Seriously, I have to have this scholarship or else it will take me twenty years to get through medical school. Please help me retain the information and pass this class with an A."

  THUMP

  He shook his head, confused about what had just happened. In front of him was a girl in tears, bent down, picking up scattered papers. She was mumbling something through her tears.

  "Excuse me, what?"

  "I said, why don't you watch where you’re going?” She continued with the papers. A gust of wind picked up a few, spreading them further out.

  Clint took a few steps, chasing after them, snatching one out of midair.

  "I'm very sorry. Here, let me help you." He handed her the pages and helped her up. She came barely to his shoulders. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, looking like she did it in a hurry. There was a purple and teal streak in her light auburn hair. When she glanced up, her beautiful green eyes were sad, and it tugged on his heart.

  "Where are you headed?"

  "Science Hall."

  "Me too. Look, I'm really sorry about running into you. It's not like me. I can help you get your report back in order if you like."

  "It's fine. Really. I know it wasn't on purpose. Just . . . emotions, you know? Finals are . . ." her voice trailed off, her lip quivering.

  "I'm Clint. I'm not normally this clumsy. Finals are a bitch this year." He swiped a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Could I buy you a cup of coffee after this final?"

  "You don't have to. I'm sure you're anxious to get home."

  Not really. He had no one to share his holidays with and wasn't looking forward to staying at his parent's home now that he was twenty-three. "It’s fine. Nobody is waiting for me. Let me make it up to you with a drink at least."

  She adjusted her notebooks. "Tell you what. I'll meet you at the student center in two hours. I have to turn in this paper, drop my books, and check out of the dorm. That okay?"

  "Yes. See you there."

  Clint opened the door to the Science Hall for her. She went to the stairs to the left, his class was down the main corridor.

  The final seemed ridiculously easy, which had him worried that he had totally screwed up. Now for the worst of it, the waiting. He headed back across campus to the library to turn in his own books before meeting her. He hadn't even asked her name.

  "Way to go, Clint. She probably won't show."

  He wandered over towards the University Center at a slow pace. His head down, he kicked a
few rocks on the way as he mentally beat himself up over how stupid he had been.

  "Wow! Way to show some enthusiasm. You know, if it's that much of a chore, then just forget it." She sat at the end booth just inside the door, her arms crossed before she harrumphed and reached for her bag to leave.

  "No! I mean, yes, I'm enthused! Look, I thought you ditched me. Can we start over?"

  She eased back into the seat, crossing her arms and offered a shrug.

  He went to the counter and ordered two large hot chocolates. With a half grin, he sidled up to her. "Hi. My name’s Clint. I thought you might like some chocolate as a reward for last day of finals."

  She blushed accepting the cocoa.

  Delaney was an interesting girl. They talked for a long time. So long in fact that the coffee shop was closing, and it was dark outside.

  "OMG! I totally lost track of the time. I have to run. Call me over the holidays, maybe we can get together." After pushing a small piece of paper across the table, she stood.

  She grabbed her bag and dashed out the door, turning at the last minute with a huge grin. "Merry Christmas!"

  Putting the car in park, I called my best friend Stacey. “Well, I’m here. I don’t see his car, but this is the place he told me to meet him. I’m so excited. Do you really think he’s going to do it?”

  “Yes! It’s so romantic! I’ve heard it’s the best restaurant in town. Can you take a picture of it when you get it?”

  I turned the ignition off and checked my makeup.

  “Okay.” We squealed together before I ended the call.

  Dmitri and I had dated for a year, tonight marking our one-year anniversary. It was turning out just like one of our conversations when he’d asked me about things I thought were romantic. The holiday lights twinkled, the snow lightly falling, and the crisp chill in the air contributed to the romance. He couldn’t have made it more perfect if he’d had a movie set. We had talked about a romantic dinner, then a sleigh ride together in the lightly falling snow as he proposed. I glanced down the street and sure enough a white horse with an elegantly decorated sleigh with a man in top hat and long tails stood ready.