Page 9 of It's the Worst Time of the Year

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Edna bristled. "It's no joke, Theodore. This is a viable business proposal that could bring tourism and joy to Wintervale."

He scoffed. "The town doesn't need a...a feline circus. It needs practical development—something that will generate real revenue. A high-rise apartment complex. Connected townhomes with no yards to leverage square footage."

"Who says Miss Twinkleberry’s pet sanctuary won't be successful?" I interjected. "There's a growing market for unique attractions. With proper marketing, Edna's proposal could draw investors and visitors from all over the region."

Jacob stepped forward. "Regardless of the potential, the issue at hand is the legality of Edna's claim to the property."

I met his gaze. "Which we are prepared to defend."

He sighed. "Bailey, let's be reasonable. Without concrete evidence, this will be a costly endeavor for everyone involved."

"Are you suggesting my client back down simply because it's inconvenient for yours?" I challenged.

"Enough," Theodore snapped. "This is a waste of time. If you won't see reason, we'll proceed with the development as planned."

Edna's eyes flashed. "Over my dead body!"

"That can be arranged," Theodore muttered under his breath.

"What did you just say, you old coot?” Edna cried, leaping from her seat, and lunging towards Theodore.

Jacob stepped between them, placing a hand on Theodore's shoulder. "Let's all take a moment to calm down."

Just then, a gust of wind howled through the trees, and the sky darkened ominously. We all looked towards the window, where the snow was falling more heavily, the flakes swirling in a frenzied dance.

As we continued our discussions, the tension in the room ebbed and flowed. Edna passionately defended her claim, while Theodore remained dismissive. Jacob and I exchanged barbs, each trying to outmaneuver the other with legal technicalities and thinly veiled jabs.

Outside, the storm intensified. The wind battered against the windows, and the house groaned in protest. Suddenly, there was a howl followed by a loud crack, and the lights flickered before plunging us into darkness.

Chapter Four

JACOB

The windows rattled in their frames as the wind howled outside—a relentless banshee carrying with it a blinding flurry of snow. I could barely make out anything past the frosted panes; just swirling white chaos that told me the storm wasn’t letting up anytime soon.

The lights had flickered ominously before giving up entirely half an hour ago, plunging the already gloomy Barrington Manor into total darkness. My breath puffed out in visible clouds, and every creak of the old house seemed amplified in the heavy silence, each one making me question whether the ancient structure would hold against the storm's fury.

“Are you absolutely certain there’s no cell service?” Theodore asked for what felt like the fifth time, his polished shoes tapping an impatient rhythm on the worn marble floor as he paced the room. A deep scowl was etched into his face, his neatly trimmed mustache twitching with irritation.

“Positive,” I replied, suppressing a sigh as I stuffed the useless phone back into my pocket. “Unless you’ve suddenlybecome a human cell tower, we’re out of luck. Even if we did get a signal, I doubt anyone would brave this weather to come rescue us. We’re stuck here until the storm decides to take a nap.”

“Fantastic,” Theodore muttered, tugging his cashmere scarf tighter around his neck as if it could shield him from the reality of our situation.

Edna, in contrast, seemed utterly unfazed by the predicament. She stood by the grand staircase, her ornament-shaped earrings jingling softly with every slight movement as she adjusted her tinsel scarf—a tinsel scarf, of all things. Her eyes sparkled with a kind of mischief that made me both wary and amused. “I told you the storm wouldn’t stop me. Nothing halts the spread of Christmas cheer!”

Bailey let out a soft laugh, and the sound was enough to draw my gaze to her. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, giving her a rosy glow that contrasted beautifully with her chestnut hair, which had escaped its usual confines to cascade over her shoulders in soft waves. Strands caught the dim light, creating a halo effect that was both enchanting and distracting.

“It’s only going to get colder,” she said, her voice steady and practical as always. That was Bailey—calm in the face of chaos. “We need to find blankets, candles, and anything we can use to keep warm. I wonder if there may be some logs stacked somewhere on the property that we could bring inside to light the hearth.”

“Or we could leave,” Theodore snapped, his tone dripping with impatience. “I, for one, have no intention of freezing to death in this mausoleum.”

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. “Be my guest. Try the Cadillac. I’m sure it’ll handle snowdrifts taller than you with ease. Let me know how that works out.”

He glared at me, his eyes narrowing into slits. Before he could retort with whatever snide comment was brewing, Bailey interjected.

“We’re not going anywhere until this storm passes,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “Let’s focus on what we can control and make the best of it.”

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