Page 1 of The Very Naughty List

1

HAILEY

Never returnto the scene of a crime.

Isn’t that what they say on all those murder mystery shows? But I’m guessing the investigators on those shows wouldn’t exactly consider running away from the altar a crime. And my reason for doing so is definitelynota mystery.

Still, it feels like I shouldn’t be back here in Chestnut Hill, Montana. It feels a bit like defeat.

My old beater of a car sputters a bit as it hugs the familiar curves of the road. And as comfortably familiar as everything in my small, tight-knit hometown feels, it also feels downright weird to be back.

The whole town is covered in a blanket of snow that would make the perfect holiday card, especially since everything is already decorated for Christmas, with twinkling lights casting tiny pools of color against the pristine white backdrop.

I roll down my window to let the cold air kiss my cheek, and the breeze picks up a few tendrils of my honey-blonde hair to toss around my shoulders and spin around in the air. The cold is starkly different here than in LA, and I’m not sure if it’s the temperature or the fact that I’m driving past the exact spot where Dylan proposed to me that sends a chill up my spine.

I try not to think about my ex, since being mopey isn’t in my nature. But catching your fiancé cheating on you with none other than your best friend—on the actual day that you’re supposed to get married—is enough to make even the most upbeat person a bit sour. And driving past all the places that dig those old memories out of their graves makes it pretty damn hard to forget why I ran away from Chestnut Hill to begin with. It’s all so small here. Small enough for gossip to travel and form faster than the snowdrifts along the edges of the road.

I grimace as I drive by the bar where my friends and I went for my bachelorette party, and just past it, I can see the church where Dylan and I were supposed to get married. Right behind that church is where I found him screwing my now ex-best friend, Brielle, mere hours before we were supposed to walk down the aisle.

Well, fuck them both.

I sigh, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me.

My mom always says that whenever I tear up, it makes my green eyes look like sea glass. I know she just says that to make me feel better though, and crying is definitely not something that I want to start with right off the bat as soon as I pull back into town. Besides, it’s Christmas time, and there’s magic in the air.

When I pass by Gus’s General Store, I pull into the parking lot.

It’s been two years since I’ve been back here, two years since I ran the hell away from this place right after the wedding that didn’t happen, and it doesn’t look like much has changed. The outside of the building still needs a new paint job, and the owner still tosses birdseed on the ground just outside the front door for the cardinals to eat.

Maybe the only thing that’s changed isme, although I’m not sure that losing my faith in true love and happy endings is animprovement over how I used to be. Still, deep down I would be lying to myself if I said I didn’t hold on to some minuscule thread of hope that maybe one day I’ll find love again. But for right now, I need to get my head out of the clouds and get some shampoo.

“Hailey! Well, I’ll be. Is that really you?” A wrinkled smile greets me from behind the counter as soon as I step inside the shop.

“Hi, Gus.” I smile politely. I really don’t feel like talking to anyone right now. It’s getting late, and it’s been a long drive. So I head straight to the aisle to find a few basic essentials that I didn’t bring with me when I left LA.

I probably could’ve packed a bit better before tossing everything in my car and heading home. But losing my job happened so abruptly, and my mom’s voice on the phone was filled with such desperate urgency for me to come home for the holidays, that I didn’t stop to overthink the decision to move back here for a little while.

Besides, it will be good to take some time to get my feet back under me. When I first headed to LA, I was determined to rebuild my life with confidence. But losing my shitty office job as an assistant in a music production studio wasnotthe way I saw things going. I thought maybe the job would give me an opening to pursue the singing career I’ve dreamed about ever since I was a teenager. But instead, it turned out to be nothing more than a soul sucking grunt work job that I’m honestly not shedding any tears over losing.

I grab the shampoo, a new toothbrush, and a few other things that I didn’t bring with me.

Before I even reach the counter, Gus is already talking to me again.

“I see you haven’t lost a single freckle in all of that California sunshine,” he teases. “You’re still just as pretty as ever.”

Since he’s trying to give me a compliment, I don’t point out that sunshine would actually causemorefreckles, not erase them from my complexion.

“Oh my god, is that Hailey Bennett?” A new voice rings out from the open doorway. “Itisyou!”

I’d almost forgotten how, in a town this size, everyone literally knows everyone else.

I look over in the direction of the voice and see a woman I recognize as one of my mom’s friends from the salon she goes to. I don’t remember her name, but she’s surrounded by a gaggle of other women who all greet me and act overwhelmingly happy to see me.

“How great that you came back home!” The woman’s patronizing smile hints at being disingenuous.

The two ladies beside her break into whispers amongst themselves until one of them looks over at me with carefully curated empathy.

“After the wedding was called off, and then your mother said you had run off somewhere to pursue some wild singing dream of yours, we figured Chestnut Hill might not see you again anytime soon,” she says.

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