Page 32 of Highland Hearts Holiday Bookshop

“You make these?” Rosie asked, delighted. “Oh, these could be fun for the shop. We should sell them.”

Esther carried her whiteboard across the room and set it on an empty shelf behind the table. Rosie looked at me and I shrugged.

“It’s time for a meeting.” Esther clapped her handstogether.

“Would you hold on? Can I put the kettle on?” Without waiting for an answer, Meredith disappeared past Rosie and into another room and Rosie waved a hand weakly in the air.

“I can do it. That’s my—” But it was too late, Meredith was already gone.

“Did she just go into your private flat and make herself tea?” I lowered my voice and leaned closer to Rosie.

“She did. I have no idea how to handle this.”

“Want me to say something?”

“God, no. And break their hearts? I think they know how much power they hold simply because everyone is too scared to stand up to them.”

“Agreed.”

“Um, what is all this?” Rosie pitched her voice higher and leaned a bit closer. I caught a whiff of her scent, something soft and seductive, reminding me of steamy summer afternoons.

“We needed to give you some time to get your feet under you yesterday. But, now that you’re all sorted, it’s time to get down to brass tacks.” Esther put her hands on her hips and glowered at us. Rosie recoiled.

“Are we going to war?” Rosie whispered.

“You can consider it such,” Shannon warned.

“What is happening?” Rosie looked at me.

“I think it’s the?—”

“It’s the Winter Windows competition. St. Andrews wins every year and, well, we’re sick of it. While Moira did a great job decorating, she didn’t change it up enough,which is why St. Andrews always edged us out. But not this time. Nooooo, not this year. We’re going to take those posh twats down.” Esther sliced an arm across her neck and Rosie’s eyebrows winged up her forehead.

“We’re really doing this?”

“It’s just a decorating competition,” I said out of the side of my mouth.

Esther slammed a hand on the table and Rosie and I jumped.

“It’s notjusta decorating competition, lad. It’s the most elite bookshop holiday window decorating competition in the world.”

“Are there many bookshop window decorating competitions? Is there a database somewhere that I can track previous wins?” I asked. Rosie snorted quietly and warmth filled me. I considered that comment a win, even if it earned me a glare from Esther.

“It’s that kind of attitude that’s going to lose us the prize. Don’t make me demote you.”

“You’re a part of this?” Rosie looked up at me.

“Involuntary volunteer,” I whispered.

“I heard that.” Esther turned to her whiteboard and uncapped a marker. The marker squeaked as she wrote “Destroy St. Andrews” in large block letters.

“There’s the Christmas spirit.” I nodded.

“Is it even Christmas if you’re not plotting someone else’s demise?” Rosie wondered out loud.

“The true meaning of the holiday season,” I agreed.

“Esther’s going to put you on her naughty list if you two keep it up,” Cherisewarned us.

---