He shrugged then said, "Sure."
"Fifty bucks a day to sit here, and if you see that woman"—I gestured in the direction Hartleigh had gone—"shoo her away whenever I have to walk past her, okay?"
"Sure thing, boss," he said and saluted. The motion sent the smell of garbage, sweat, and stale beer over to me. I tried not to gag. If that was what would keep Hartleigh from ambushing me, then so be it.
29
Chloe
As soon as she walked into the apartment, Hartleigh demanded to know what I was doing with Jack.
"Are you in love with him?" she cried.
"Go away," Maria told her. "You're being obnoxious."
"He's the judge. You can't be friends with him," Hartleigh said, ignoring Maria.
"That's rich coming from you. What do you have going on with him?" I demanded. "You were all talk about how you were going to rekindle a romance with longtime beau Jack Frost."
I knew I shouldn't engage with her, but I was sick of her creepy possessiveness of Jack, especially now that I knew he disliked her.
"I know better than to sleep with a judge and compromise the integrity ofTheGreat Christmas Bake-Off," Hartleigh huffed at me.
"Yes, because this is some sort of PhD defense and not a half-rate reality show that's not even broadcast on TV. It's really not a life-or-death situation," I told her. "The show is a platform to sell people on your brand."
"Except there's only one person you're trying to recruit as your fan. You're trying to steal Jack from me," she replied.
"Whatever," I said, standing up and putting on my coat. "I need to go take some pictures."
I did wonder if Hartleigh was going to make a stink. I couldn't afford to be booted off the show so soon. The bake-off was finally starting to gain some traction; I had tens of thousands more Instagram followers. I just needed to win, then I had the feeling my dreams would start coming true.
The drunk Santa was sitting in the lobby when I walked out of the elevator.
"The boss said I could sit in here," he said in response to my questioning look. "Gave me a job."
"Jack gave you a job?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Congratulations," I told him, "Mr… I'm sure your last name isn't Claus."
"You can call me Eddie, ma'am," he said.
"Don't call me ma'am, call me Chloe," I told him. "Does the security guard know you're here? I don't want him to shoot you or something."
Eddie, the Santa, grinned. "He was arrested two nights ago. The police just sped by and snatched him up."
"Well," I said, "that's not very charitable."
Eddie shrugged.
"Do you need anything? Food? A shower, perhaps," I asked.
"Boss wants me just like this." He pulled out a flask and took a sip.
"I must be off," I told him, trying not to gag on the smell. Jack really didn't want the man to shower?
It was bitterly cold outside. Not as cold as the Midwest but still chilly.
