Page 14 of The Naughty List Agreement

Pete shrugged then nodded. “Deal.” They shook hands, dark shadows meeting bright starlight. “Midnight on the twenty-fourth. After that, she’s mine.”

Nick trailed Pete back to the table inside Frosty Jack’s where Cora waited. The two men sat across from her. Pete turned his chair backward to straddle it, resting his arms on the back. What a poser.

“I’ve ordered a round of drinks,” she said bluntly, indicating the glasses on the table. “So tell me, Pete, do you work at Bari Toys?”

“Not exactly. My family has their own branch of the business,” he said.

“And that would be…?” she raised an enquiring eyebrow.

Nick jumped in before Pete could answer. “Toys are the cornerstone of everything we do but we also sponsor seasonal events, have charitable arms, and corporate partnerships.”

“That’s where I come in,” Pete said. “Loss prevention, security, and enforcement.”

“Oh. That’s interesting. We have some issues at Winter Wonderland. The security team I use is all right but I’m always looking to level up. They can always be replaced, like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

That sounded an awful lot like punishment to Nick. He didn’t have to look at Pete to see his triumph; it was coming off him in waves of uncomfortable Black Lumen.

Nick needed to get Cora thinking differently. Find the root of the loss and gently guide her toward generosity and understanding. “What issues are you having at Winter Wonderland?”

“Usually it’s kids stealing toys—or sometimes even adults. Not sure what their deal is,” Cora remarked carelessly.

“They probably can’t afford it but still want to give their child the ‘it toy’,” Nick said. “That’s the problem with your pricing. Some children will never be able to attain that toy.”

Cora bristled. “We do host a charitable giveaway which every family is welcome to enter. We brought Christmas to twenty families last year,” she said. “They got the full experience—food, treats, and presents under the tree. Including our featured toy.”

“Twenty families isn’t enough if you still have theft. Why not find a charitable way to help those who are caught instead of prosecuting them?” Nick said.

“That’s not something we’ve considered. You might have a point,” she said. Lumen flickered around her, but it felt unstable.

“Every action has a consequence,” Pete countered. “Rewarding thieves isn’t the answer. Some people might be stealing to sell it on and make a profit, Nick. Not everyone is nice,” Pete said, with emphasis.

“Not everyone is naughty,” Nick shot back.

“Wow. Naughty and Nice. You two take that very seriously. Binary morality is lazy. People aren’t ledgers. Everyone has a little bit of good and bad in them. Even you two,” she said.

Nick glanced at Pete, who stared back at him in surprise. Neither of them had predicted that. It was a bit like her knot in the Yearweave. A mix of light and dark, belief and cynicism mixed together. There was more to Cora than he’d first thought.

“There is truth to that,” Nick said when he’d pulled himself together. “Where do you think you fall on the scale?” Nick asked carefully. Both men looked intently at her. Cora looked between them, a frown forming between her brows.

“I try to do more good than bad,” she said, “but who can really say? I guess I’m somewhere in the middle. Some days naughtier, others nicer. What about you two?”

Pete shook his head. “We both operate within the parameters set by our families.”

Nick could tell she was about to ask what he meant by that, but Pete abruptly drained his glass and stood up.

“I’ve got to go. Remember, naughty crushes nice,” Pete said, meeting Cora’s gaze. He turned to Nick. “I’ll see you later.”

Cora watched Pete leave before she looked back over at Nick. “That was … interesting.”

It certainly was.

Frosty Jack’s was toasty warm. There was an odd dynamic between the two “cousins” that she didn’t really understand. Pete was undeniably hot, but it was Nick she struggled to keep her eyes off. Glancing around, she noted that the place was more crowded than before and a band had taken to a stage that she hadn’t realized was there.

They were playing a version of Dylan’s “Must Be Santa.” Patrons were singing along with the music and the servers, who were all dressed in ice-blue tuxedo pants and slim-fitting white dress shirts with a small bow tie, bustled from table to table.

“Shall we order some food?” Nick suggested. “If you’re looking for a recommendation, the stew is excellent.”

Stew was okay but it was too homey for her. She’d never tell Nick, but it was the one dish her mom used to make that they’d all eat as a family. It was hard to see it and not long for something that had never really been. But on stew nights… Cora had imagined a different life, a fantasy life, a perfect family.