Page 43 of The Thief Who Saved Christmas

“I can get you a good price,” Jeremy says, accepting the drink Cynthia just poured for him and sitting on the loveseat next to the sofa.

She scowls at him and puts her hands on her hips. “Did you only offer to come over because you’re trying to scrounge up business for your huckster uncle?”

He lifts his empty hand, palm outward. “What do you take me for, Cynth? I make an offer to help your friend, be a stand-up guy, and you accuse me of being shady?”

“Tell the truth, Jeremy. Do you still work for him?”

He wobbles his hand in the air. “Sometimes, when I need to make an extra buck.”

She snatches the drink back from him. “You just lost your drink, Trumpet Boy.”

“What gives?” he asks. I may not be a great judge of such things, but he looks genuinely hurt.

My gaze finds Ryan. I think Jeremyistelling the truth, but I want Ryan’s take. “What do you think?”

“I’m no expert,” he says, “but he’s right. You probably need to get them replaced. You might need some rewiring too.”

I slump back on the couch, trying to do the mental calculations. The inn is expensive. There are no mortgage payments, but the tax is exorbitant. Still, I have some money saved up from It’s Christmas Again, and that money can go toward updating and rebranding the inn. “Do you think we can find someone to do it before Monday?”

Jeremy Jacobs gives Cynthia an accusatory look. “I can get my uncle to do the pipes tomorrow,” he says, “because you’refriends.”

He says that last word acidly, and she rolls her eyes and hands back his drink.

“A thank-you wouldn’t be out of line,” he says, raising one eyebrow.

“Thank you, oh lord and master.” She mimes bowing. “You know, you’re letting your social media stardom go to your head.”

“If it’s only gonna last fifteen minutes, I might as well make the most of it. I got DMed five phone numbers last night.”

Cynthia’s nostrils flare. “Only five? I got seven numbers at the bar.”

There’s something strange going on with them, but I don’t really care at the moment. I’ll care later, because I love Cynthia, but right now, I just want to know if my B&B is going to survive this inspector’s visit. “And the electrical?”

Ryan squeezes my shoulder, and some of the tension eases out of me. “I’ll make some calls. I know enough to recognize if they’re screwing us.”

Us.The word makes me smile, even though I know it’s not a promise.

“Thank you, Ryan.”

Jeremy makes a sound of affront, so I turn to him and say, “And thank you, lord and master.”

Cynthia laughs so hard, she bends over with it. I catch Jeremy watching her before he shakes his head and says, “And that’s my cue.” He downs the rest of his drink and rises, setting the cup on the coffee table, thoughtfully choosing to use one of the coasters. Then he nods at me. “I’ll let you know what he says.”

“Thank you,” I say again, more emphatically. “I really appreciate your time, Jeremy.”

“I’m glad someone does.” His turns to Cynthia. “You need to report for your shift?”

“Yeah, soon.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

She gives him a pointed look. “So you can sell me on your aunt’s Mary Kay?”

He snorts and shakes his head. “You sure love giving me shit, Cynth.”

“Someone needs to keep your head on straight.” But she relents and smiles at him. “Come on. Maybe we’ll see Weston, and you can serenade him again.”

“Don’t. Seriously, don’t,” I say. “A trumpet might be what got us here in the first place.”

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