Page 87 of Playful Kris

“We’re two weeks out from the Bazaar, update me on everything that is going to take place.” Mr. Daniels leans back in his chair, looking down the table to where Cora and I sit.

“We’re on track. The schools have agreed to their portion of the events,” Cora tells him.

“I have to stop by the fire department this afternoon and make sure everything is set and ready for Mr. and Mrs. Claus, I’ve reached out to a local photographer for the picture portion. The one that we have used the last few years was already booked for the weekend we needed her for. I’m hoping she would be willing to donate proceeds or at least a portion. I figured the pictures could be a few dollars a piece. It would be good advertisement for the photographer and raise money for a charity at the same time,” I point out. “Then we have the pet parade, we’ve already been advertising it and we’ve received a large response.”

“The people in this town do love their fur babies.” Mr. Daniels smiles. He would know. He has a pet bird that he often brings to work with him. He was one of the first ones to sign up, and I have a feeling that Fred, his bird, will be the highlight of the night.

“That they do.” Cora laughs. “We’ve also been advertising the ugly sweater contest,” she pauses looking around the table, “and I’d like for a few employees to participate just for fun.”

Rebecca, of course, snarls her lip at that. I guess we can mark her off that list.

“Great idea.” Mr. Daniels fixes her with a look. “Count me in.” He smiles.

“From there, the kids from the local school will perform on the courthouse steps and we’ll move the trees in after that. I’m going to drive to that new tree farm that just opened. I’m going to attempt to get some trees donated, but if not we have enough in the funds to buy a few. I’d have done it already, but I didn’t have anywhere to store this many live trees, and I couldn’t get a good contact email. I figured once the decorating portion was done we could donate the trees to some of the less fortunate homes here.”

“Oh, that’s a brilliant idea, Kameron. Great thinking.” Mr. Daniels leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the desk. “I’m loving everything I’m hearing so far.”

“And then,” Cora smiles at everyone around the table, and I want to slam my head against the table, “we’ll do the tree lighting ceremony, and those old enough will attend the stripping Santas event. We’re selling tickets at a reasonable price, and we’ve only got maybe ten tickets left to sell. It’s looking like it could possibly be a sold out show.”

Again. Let me slam my head into the table.

If it was anyone other than Kris coming, I really wouldn’t care.

But I don’t want to see him. At all.

Mr. Daniels slaps his hands together in a clap, jarring me back to the present.

“Everything sounds wonderful. This might be our best Bazaar yet,” he tells us.

I don’t miss the nasty look Rebecca shoots our way, or how it lingers when Mr. Daniels dismisses us all and leaves the room. She’s definitely butt hurt, and I can’t say I blame her. We have planned one hell of a Christmas Bazaar.

I’m not normally a pat myself on the back kind of gal, but I’ll be patting myself on the back well into the New Year.

Besides, she’s in charge of the New Year downtown event. She can actually serve alcohol, I can’t. Until the Stripping Santa portion that is.

And thankfully, our local Mexican restaurant has offered to cater the event.

Margaritas all night long. Thank you.

“Alright, I need to head over to the fire department and then try to hit up that new Christmas tree farm.” I sigh, gathering all of my things. “I’ll be out the rest of the day, but if you need me for anything let me know.”

“Sure will, I’m going to work on confirming our stripping Santas and then figure out all the other last minute details. The date’s moving closer, and I feel like we have a good handle on everything but I still feel unprepared.” She presses her thumb to her temple.

“I feel ya. I’ll be home for dinner, we can finish working all the tiny details out then if you want.”

“It’s a date.” She smiles as I move around the table toward the door. “Be careful, and keep me updated.”

“Will do,” I sing as I walk out of the room, only stopping at my office to grab my phone and purse before heading out to the car.

If I can survive this month, I’ll be on the straight stretch to a life where I don’t have to constantly think of Kris and our weekend together… or the anxiety surrounded by me having to see him soon.

Because I’ll never have to see the jerk again.

35

KRIS

You know? When I agreed to do this Stripping Santa thing for the Birchwood Christmas Bazaar, I didn’t realize I’d have a whole routine choreographed for me.

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