Page 29 of Meet Me on Mistletoe Lane

Meetings about The Market?

I paused before I began writing.

Maybe I should put down the worst places to go instead?

No. Then he’d have an even worse opinion about our town. You gotta win him over, G. Not drive him away.

“Sorry about that,” James said, rubbing the towel over his hair. “My dad lives by lists.”

“It’s okay. I do, too,” I said.

“Huh.” He cocked his head. “I took you more for the spontaneous type.”

“Ha. Yeah, no. That’d be my cousins.” I wrote down Eve’s Drop, Wanderin’ Eats Diner, and Between the Pages Bookstore, and then glanced behind Mr. Bailey to the TV in his bedroom.

“Are you watching Holiday Inn?” I asked him.

“Oh, um, yes.” Mr. Bailey turned around and scratched the back of his head. “Not as popular as White Christmas, but—”

“It’s a great movie,” I said, smiling. “I love the Christmas scenes, but my favorite number is when Fred Astaire dances with firecrackers—”

“During the Fourth of July!” James interrupted. “That’s our favorite part, too.”

“Did you know that scene was added after they filmed the movie?” Mr. Bailey asked me.

I nodded. “Because they wanted a patriotic scene, since they were filming when Pearl Harbor was attacked, right?”

“That’s right.” Mr. Bailey smiled and took a lemon Linzer torte out of the bag. “Impressive that you know that, Ms. Mancini.”

I shrugged. “I watch a lot of movies, especially ones with a Christmas theme, even when it’s not that time of year.”

“Doesn’t that get tiresome?” Mr. Bailey asked me as he took a bite of the cookie.

“No.” I shifted on my feet. “I read that rewatching your favorite movies or shows helps reduce stress and regulate your emotions.”

James grabbed another cookie. “Maybe you should look into that, then, Pops.”

Definitely couldn’t hurt.

I gave Mr. Bailey the piece of paper with my notes before I headed back toward the door. “You guys have a nice night.”

“Feel free to drop by anytime.” James winked and saluted me with his cookie.

My ears burned. “I’ll definitely call first next time.”

My feet had just reached the bottom step of the suite when James called down to me. “You can keep my sweater! It really is a good color on you.”

I looked down and cursed under my breath.

How had I worn this thing all day and not remembered it wasn’t even mine?

I turned around to take it off and chuck it at him, but my jeans pocket caught on the doorknob and threw me off-balance, right into one of the reindeer. Dasher and I went down hard. One of his antlers broke off, and I got a face full of Christmas wreath.

Fabulous.

“You good there, Charlie Brown?” James asked, amusement in his voice.

“Yep.” I pushed off the reindeer and jumped up, spitting out a pine needle before pulling the sweater over my head and draping it over Dasher. “Never better.”