Page 1 of Snow Harm, No Foul

1

IVY

Dear Santa, I know I’ve asked you for this same thing for the last ten years, but PLEASE let this one be when you gift me smaller tits for Christmas.

I’m not even that picky. If you could just use your magic powers to shrink ’em from a DD to a C, that would be more than enough. My back hurts.

Sincerely, Ivy Bell.

I scribblethe letter on my notepad and then rip it off, crumpling it. With an arched throw, I watch it swoosh into the garbage can. I spin around in my desk chair with a quiet whoop.

The heat coming down from the vent above my desk makes my skin sticky beneath my heavy knitted sweater. It’s the last week of November and minus thirty with the wind chill, so obviously, I dressed accordingly. I’m kicking myself in the ass for that now.

It’s been a week since I’ve had to come into the office for work instead of doing it all from home, and I wasn’t expecting itto be so damn hot. I usually keep my house cool in the winter to try to manage my heating bill.

Leaning back in my chair, I stretch out my back and wince at the tightness in my spine. I always blame my boobs for this—as seen by my crumpled Christmas wish—but really, it’s my terrible posture. I’m going to have a massive hump in my spine by the time I’m forty at the rate I’m going. My tits will be making good friends with my knees then.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Turning my chair, I focus on the woman half inside my cubicle. Jill, one of my colleagues here at the Snowbell Ridge town office, flashes me a wide, honest smile.

Dressed in a red velvet skirt with a matching top, snowflake earrings, and red heels with white pompoms on the toes, she might as well be Mrs. Claus.

She’s the one who helped me decorate the office last week. We spent hours together at the Christmas store racking up the bill before swiping our boss’s card at the till and hauling bag after bag in from my car. It was quite the bonding experience.

“It’s easier working at home,” I tell her.

She fiddles with one of her earrings. “I prefer to be here. There’s nobody for me to chat with at home.”

“That’s why I like it.”

I’m not a grumpy person, but I do like my own space and privacy.

“Fair enough.”

“Are you working all the way until Christmas?”

She pushes out her bottom lip. “Yes. I need the extra money too much to take any days off.”

“Me too.”

Not to mention that I’ve got a lot to do before then.

It’s not only my first Christmas here in Snowbell Ridge but also my first as its marketing and events coordinator. I’m incharge of the preparations for the recurring Let’s Get Blitzen’d event that’s set to take place on Christmas Eve.

It’s always held at the Frosty Mug bar downtown, and I’m supposed to have my first business meeting with the owner this Friday to start preparations.

That’s the real reason I’m here today. All of the information from the previous events hasn’t been moved onto the computers yet and is still in the archaic age of papers in a filing cabinet.

The woman I took over for is well into her seventies, and while she’s lovely, I can tell her age solely from what she left behind for me.

I think that’s why I was hired for this job in the first place. I’m only twenty-one, and I’ve got what it takes to bring some new life into an event that I’ve been told is slowly dying in popularity year by year.

Jill comes closer, taking a look at my desk and the red glitter pen I forgot to put the cap back on.

“Are you ready for your meeting Friday? The owner is a bit . . .”

I cock a brow. “A bit what?”

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