Page 21 of The Holiday Games

Caroline

What have I done?

What in the name of very hard, very cold concrete, that will splinter my bones into tiny pieces if I fall on it, have I done?

“You were too busy flirting and chasing the dragon of crisis management to remember that you don’t know how to skate,” I mutter as I grip the makeshift railing around our new “rink” with sweaty palms.

I’m supposed to be wearing red mittens to match the white coat with the red polka-dots the costume department gave me, but my anxiety sweat is too intense.

“You too?” the woman next to me asks, tugging at the black scarf wrapped around her pale throat. In her black dress, black coat, black scarf, and dramatic black eyeliner, she’s like a character from the Addams family, but the look in her blue eyes is friendly as she adds, “I grew up in the woods on a gravel road. I never learned to do anything on wheels. I can’t ride a bike or roller skate. Pretty sure I’m going to break every bone in my body.”

“Me, too.” I exhale a shaky laugh as I extend a hand her way. “Caroline, but my hand is a sweaty mess so don’t feel obligated to shake it.”

“No worries.” She grins and gives my elbow a bump with hers. “I’m Jenna, the other last-minute recruit. I think I’m supposed to be the ‘bad’ girl to your ‘good’ one.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Well, you don’t seem bad to me. And I don’t think I’m going to be America’s Hospitality Sweetheart. I’m more of an acquired taste.”

“Nah, you’ll make a fine sweetheart,” Jenna says. “You have a Laura Ingalls Wilder smile. Remember that show? The Little House on the Prairie? God, I loved it when I was a kid.”

“Me, too,” I say, grinning. “I used to watch reruns with my grandmother and daydream about what it would be like to have siblings. I always wanted a big sister and a little sister.”

Jenna snorts. “No, you didn’t. I mean, it’s fine now that we’re grown. But growing up, Jessica stretched out my shoes and Jane never let me come smoke cigarettes in the park with her and her friends.”

I nod, humming softly. “Probably a good thing in the long run. You dodged an addiction to nicotine.”

“I did,” she agrees. “And I have middle child mediation skills that come in handy with cranky customers. Though, most of my guests are cool. You don’t get a lot of uptight people at a goth-themed inn an hour from the city. What about you? You’re from Vermont, right? I bet you get a lot of cranky old geezers.”

I laugh. “I mean, yeah, we have our share.”

Her smile widens. “Tell me more. I need a horror story about blue hairs behaving badly to keep my mind off the horror of being on wheels.”

“Hunh. Let me think…” I look up at the dark sky, searching my mental files for a good story, when I notice the cameraman lurking quietly behind us, filming. I tense and glance back toJenna, whose smile has taken on a cunning edge. “Were you trying to trick me into saying unkind things about my guests on camera?”

A husky laugh emerges from her red lips. “What do you think? Going to have to wise up, Snow White, or you won’t last ten minutes in this competition. See you at the starting line.”

Before I can reply, she dashes through the opening in the short fence surrounding the skating area, swaying with ease and confidence in her black skates. Halfway across the pavement, she executes a little hop and twist, turning to roll away backwards as she blows me a kiss.

“Dirty rotten liar,” I mutter. “She really is the bad girl.”

“Oh yeah, she totally is,” a woman in a flowered snowsuit and adorable red braids says as she rolls to a stop beside me. “I was coming to warn you to be careful. I’m pretty sure she’s the one who put tacks in my skates.” She extends her hand. “I’m Millie.”

My eyes widen as I take it. “Caroline. Wow, are you sure? That’s awful. You should say something to the production team.”

Millie shakes her head. “Nah, it’s okay. It might not have been her. Even if it was, I’m not afraid of a little dirty competition. My inn is haunted, and I just spent nine months battling the town select board for permission to build an additional guesthouse fifteen feet from the road instead of seventeen feet. I’m accustomed to violence at this point.”

I shudder. “Select boards. What a nightmare.”

“Utter nightmare,” she agrees. “I’d rather be awoken every night by a drunk ghost pirate scratching his hook across my bedroom door than sit through another meeting with people who get horny for red tape.”

“Same,” I agree with a laugh, glancing at her cute yellow skates. “How are you on wheels? I’m probably going to be dangerous, so you’ll want to stay as far away from me as possible.”

“First time on skates in a while?”

“First time ever,” I say. “I’ve done my fair share of ice skating, but roller skating is a whole new ballgame.”

Millie perks up, her warm brown eyes sharpening on mine. “Okay, then you’ll want to get your wheels tightened. Have you done that?”

I shake my head.

---