Page 47 of The Night Before Grumpmas
“Everyone has a price,” Max says with a smirk. “And if you can’t get him with money, find all the problems with the place and negotiate him down to the bare minimum. You got Crawford a quarter billion deal to toss a ball, didn’t you? You’re Jacob fucking McCallister. Show up and fix your shit.”
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. I have to fix this, and I can do it.
Without another word, I grab my jacket and head for the door. Max just laughs as I leave.
“Go be a hero, lover boy. Don’t let this one go.”
I fucking hope I can deliver.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Noelle
“What are your options again?”Val asks over the phone.
“Murder the next-door neighbor and hide the body,” I joke, but it falls flat. Not because it’s a bad joke, but because I’m too pissed off to find any of this funny. I don’t actually want to kill Jacob, but right now, I’m so angry I could scream. What the fuck was he thinking?
Obviously, he wasn’t thinking—and that’s the problem. There’s no way I can get Mr. Oswald to back off. I’ve been trying to call him, but his assistant says he has “nothing to discuss with me.” Seriously? My dad told me to lay low, to move out of the apartment for a bit, so here I am, on a train, on my way back to Maple Ridge.
My boss agreed to let me work remotely for the next month, as long as I keep everything for the gala running smoothly. That part’s easy. I can make calls, send emails, and organize most things from my parents’ place. Of course, there are two problems with this plan.
One, I’ll have to pay for faster internet—my parents’ Wi-Fi is basically nineties-dial-up cue You Got Mail sound. And two, I’ll have to deal with Chad and Eleanor. Oh, and let’s not forget the whole town.
“You can’t maim your neighbor,” Val says and I wish I could wipe the amusement in her voice. “Especially when you two . . . Wait, are you two still together?”
I open my mouth, then close it. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not exactly convenient anymore.”
“But you didn’t break up with him after his little stunt, did you?” she asks then add. “Why do you think he did it?”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “He wanted me out since I arrived. It’s probably something he did a couple of months ago. We both know Mr. Oswald doesn’t pay attention to anything for weeks, sometimes months. Remember when Grandma had to wait almost a year for him to fix her stove?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she groans. “Holiday break, I come home, and Grandma’s taken over my room—forever. Love the woman, but she’s not exactly the world’s best roommate. So, what are you doing with Jacob?”
I laugh, but my frustration is still simmering. “Not sure. Am I going to let it go easily? Absolutely not. He’s going to have to grovel, but I’m not breaking up with him just because he’s a very smart idiot.”
Val laughs. “Why do you think he did it?”
“He hated the decorations so much he tried to get me kicked out,” I complain, my heart racing as my mind spins with frustration.
Seriously, what was he thinking? He could’ve just shoved Frosty into a trash can. Or if Jack Skellington bothered him that much, he could’ve given him away. But snitching? Snitching because he couldn’t deal with a few decorations? That’s just . . . pathetic.
I swear if I ever see him again, he’s going to get a piece of my mind. It’s not like he’s going to come and visit me in Maple Ridge, or like I’ll be able to find a place to live so I can continue working in New York. Unless . . . I could call his friend, Emmersyn. She told me that if I ever needed a job, she’d give it to me and benefits would include a lot, maybe even housing.
“Move to California,” Valentina suggests for what feels like the hundredth time since the Chad debacle.
“You sound like Grandma. She keeps telling me to follow her to Costa Rica,” I say, shaking my head.
“That’s too far from me,” Val complains.
“You could always move back home,” I suggest, even though I already know her answer.
“Where everyone knows my name and gets all up in my business? Yeah, no thanks,” Val replies with a snort.
“This is why New York was perfect,” I mutter. “But of course, he had to go and ruin it.”
The train slows as we approach Maple Ridge station, and I feel a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach. As much as I love my hometown, coming back always stirs up mixed emotions. I grab my bag, say goodbye to Val, and step off the train, bracing myself for small-town life again.
I barely have time to adjust to the crisp air when I see him.
