Then she seemed to catch herself and returned her attention to her paperwork with renewed focus.
“Anyway,” she said briskly, “Mrs. Hall sent specific recommendations about traditional locations plus suggested new placements. I’ve marked them on the floor plan.”
She handed me a sheet of paper covered with her neat handwriting and small drawings which somehow made the community center layout look both professional and slightly whimsical. Even her organizational systems were attractive, which was probably not something a normal person would notice about a woman he was trying to keep things strictly business with.
“Above the hot chocolate station,” I read aloud. “Near the vendor booth entrance. By the Christmas tree. And...” I paused, squinting at her handwriting. “What does this say? ‘Storage room door’?”
Holly’s cheeks went pink. “Mrs. Hall was very thorough in her suggestions.”
“The storage room where we were looking for extension cords?”
“The very one.”
Mrs. Hall was apparently either remarkably perceptive about romantic tension or coincidentally excellent at identifying locations where two people might find themselves in kissing proximity.
“Mrs. Hall is diabolical,” I said with genuine admiration.
“Mrs. Hall is trying to create a romantic Christmas atmosphere for the entire community,” Holly corrected, though she was fighting a smile. “Any personal applications of her mistletoe strategy are purely coincidental.”
“Purely coincidental,” I repeated. “Like the way she suggested we do a practice walkthrough to test the placement effectiveness.”
“She’s very thorough.”
“She’s very transparent.”
My phone buzzed with an incoming call, and I glanced at the screen to see Matt’s name. Which was either perfect timing or terrible timing, depending on how much I wanted to continue flirting with his sister while pretending to discuss community festival logistics.
“I should take this,” I said apologetically. “It’s Matt.”
“Tell him I said hi,” Holly said, returning to her vendor list with the kind of focused attention that suggested she was grateful for the interruption.
“Hey,” I answered, stepping outside the coffee shop where we’d been working. “How’s the work crisis?”
“Ongoing,” Matt said with the weary tone of someone who’d been pulling eighteen-hour days for a week. “But I wanted to check in about the festival. How’s everything going?”
“Good. Holly’s amazing at this, by the way. You should see her organizational systems—she’s got everything color-coded and cross-referenced like some kind of event planning genius.”
“She always was good at that stuff,” Matt said with obvious pride. “Even as a kid, she could organize anything. Remember how she used to plan elaborate scavenger hunts for birthday parties?”
“I remember you complaining that her planning was too detailed and took all the fun out of it.”
“I was twelve and impatient,” Matt said with amusement. “I didn’t appreciate systematic excellence back then.”
There was something in his tone that suggested this conversation had a purpose beyond festival updates and nostalgic reminiscing about Holly’s childhood organizational skills.
“Is there something specific you wanted to know about the festival?” I asked.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Holly,” Matt said, his voice taking on the particular tone that meant he was about to deliver Important Information. “About her situation.”
“Her situation?”
“The reason she’s back home. Declan, do you know what happened with Derek?”
Derek. The ex-boyfriend who’d apparently been responsible for Holly’s current life circumstances. I knew the basics—that he’d hurt her, that the relationship had ended badly, that it was connected to her moving back home. But Matt’s question suggested there were details I was missing.
“I know he was an asshole,” I said carefully. “And that whatever he did, it’s why she’s rebuilding her life right now.”
“He didn’t just break up with her,” Matt said quietly. “Derek systematically drained her bank accounts over months. Cleaned out her savings, maxed out credit cards in her name, even took money from her emergency fund. When she got fired, she couldn’t make rent because this piece of shit had stolen everything she had.”
