Page 31 of The Snuggle is Real
“Er, yeah. Sorry.”
He waved away my apology. “Not your fault, but it betternotbe some sort of secret game like last year’s holiday graffiti.”
“Oh, you mean those cool murals on some of the buildings. I saw one that was a tree made out of words and?—”
He huffed. “Yeah, so cool, I know. But it was all kept hush-hush last year. Quite the holiday mystery.”
“Oh.”
“I should have known. I’m the freaking festival organizer, but noooo…”
I stood in the freezing cold wind, shivering, wanting nothing more than a piping hot drink—other than Griff’s agreement to my plan.
Which I hadn’t gotten a chance to fully explain yet.
“So about those festival tickets…”
“Right.” He seemed to shake himself out of his funk and continued walking—toward heated buildings, thankfully. “I thought the foundation was more for giving folks coats and scarves. Maybe a gift or two to put under the tree?”
“We’ve been growing.”
He nodded. “Sure, sure.”
“That means our mission can grow too, and I became aware of a gap in services, you know? Families need coats and scarves and holiday meals, sure.”
“That sleigh delivery was great,” Griff said. “Heard a lot of good feedback.”
Warmth suffused my chest. “Thanks. I know it’s late in the season to be launching any new programs.”
“It is.”
“But you heard about Ford Donnelly’s situation?”
He cast me a sidelong look. “Former stepdaughter landed on his doorstep for the holidays? Her mama in rehab? It’s a lot to handle, for sure.”
I nodded. “Christmas is a demanding time in any city, butespeciallyChristmas Falls. And families don’t need just food and clothes for their kids. They want holiday magic. They all deserve it, right?”
We paused on the sidewalk, letting a reindeer-drawn sleigh go by, before crossing the street.
“I think I see where you’re going with this.”
“If I can get the festival on board, I can get local businesses too. With enough sponsors, we can adopt a family to get the full holiday experience.”
“Just one?”
“Well, for this year. Ford and Charlie are a trial run, if you will. I saw a need, and I wanted to fill it.”
“You wanted something,” he muttered under his breath.
“Excuse me?”
He chuckled. “Nothing. I’ll leave some tickets at the office for you to pick up tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Griff. Really!”
He pulled that pesky phone out of his pocket once more, getting another text. “Damn it. Every year, someone drops out. Un-fucking-believable.”
Without another look, he stormed down the street, a force of nature.
