She smiles. “Oh yes. So beautiful.”
“The most beautiful,” I say, flashing my teeth because at this point, I don’t even know what a genuine smile feels like.
When she’s out of earshot, Max mutters, “Do I even need to say anything?”
“Nope.” I shake my head in shame.
“It’s actually sickening to watch you pretend to be in such a cheery mood. When was the last time you smiled this much?”
“Probably this past summer when you accidentally chopped into the water line at the farm and ran around like a lunatic, screaming for someone to turn off the water.”
Max’s face falls flat. “That was not funny.”
“I thought it was.” I smirk just as another person approaches. Gearing up, I say, “Season’s greetings and good—” My words fall flat as I catch a glimmer of a gold sash and the flash of red hair.
When Storee’s gray eyes meet mine, the smirk that tugs on the corner of her lips is unmistakable. “Why, season’s greetings to you as well. What a fine morning to see such a cheery turd in the middle of the Myrrh-cantile.”
The smile freezes on my face. “I was thinking the same thing—how it’s so wonderful to come face to face with someone who has seen rock bottom on so many occasions. Truly gives one perspective.”
Her lip twitches, but her fake smile doesn’t fade. “And on such a bright and cheery Saturday morning, it’s shocking and yet a pleasure to know that someone who truly smells worse than a rancid dumpster is still able to live their best life in the herbs and spices aisle.”
Max snorts next to me but covers his mouth with his hand to suppress his obvious delight.
“Ah ha ha ha.” I fake laugh, Storee joining in with me. “Yes, quite a season of giving, don’t you think? And I see that you’re giving away your ability to care about your appearance. Truly remarkable how comfortable you are looking so…how do I say it…ahh, like an aroused middle toe.”
She playfully pushes at my chest and laughs as someone walks by. “Merry Christmas,” we say in unison.
When the person is gone, she says, “An aroused middle toe, huh? Seems to me like someone might have a foot fetish.”
“Ah, but that would mean I’d be into you, and as you know for a fact, that couldn’t be further from the truth. So please take your toe head, have a blessed Christmas, and begone.”
“I would love nothing more than to transport myself away from the putrid scent pouring out of your mouth, but unfortunately for me, you’re standing in front of the spices, and I need to purchase some.”
“Ah, I see.” I don’t move to the side though. “Unfortunately, ogres can’t purchase these spices. You’re going to have to go to Clayton for that.”
“I heard of such a thing,” she says as she nods to someone who walks by. “Which makes me wonder how on earth you were allowed into the store.”
“If you’re trying to piggyback off my insult by claiming I’m an ogre, I’m here to tell you you’re going to have to do better than that.” When I look up, I see Sylvia turn down our aisle, so I straighten up and offer her a demure wave. “Mrs. Claus, you look stunning this fine morning. How is the mister?”
At the appearance of Mrs. Claus, Storee straightens up too and turns toward her.
“Oh, he’s gearing up for a day of boisterous laughter.”
“I can only imagine,” I say. “And I must say, you need to hand out that hot chocolate recipe. I haven’t had any in years and now I’m craving it like a little schoolboy.” I catch Storee’s smirk out of the corner of my eye.
“Oh, you are such a dear. But you know I can’t give that recipe away, Cole. Although I’m more than happy to make you some any time you come over.”
“Don’t tempt me—I’ll be there every night.”
She chuckles and then squeezes Storee’s arm as she walks by. “Always lovely to see you. You have quite the blush in your cheeks this morning.”
“Oh, do I?” she asks.
“You do. Maybe it’s present company that’s giving you such a stain.”
Storee glances at me and then back at Mrs. Claus. I steady myself for the insult, for the denial, but then she says, “Oh, you know, you very well might be right.”
Sylvia laughs. “Well, you three have a wonderful day. Can’t wait for the Eggnog Wars tonight.”
