Page 22 of Kiss Me at Christmas
“You can’t blackmail me! I will not be a pawn in your seedy little real estate games.”
Evaline continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “I’ll have my solicitor draw up a fresh contract for you to sign.” She whisked the original contract away from Harriet and tore it in two. “One that covers our new agreement. A Christmas production to be performed in front of a live audience on the twenty-first of December.”
It was like being squeezed by a boa constrictor; every objection she made only caused Evaline to coil tighter. There was no air in the car. She couldn’t think straight.What have I got myself into?She could feel herself getting hotter and hotter, a prickling heat rising up through her body. If she didn’t get out of this car right now, she was going to spontaneously combust.
“Clean your own damn theater!” she exploded. She wrenched the handle of the limo door too hard and kicked it open with her boot. She was boiling with outrage and embarrassment at having been so perfectlysnookered, even after Pete’s warnings. Evaline did indeed have a large bite radius, and she’d bitten her right on the bum.
She climbed out into the freezing afternoon—leaving the car door disrespectfully open—and was grateful for the rush of cold air after the stuffy interior. Evaline’s lily of the valley perfume had permeated her hair, and that only made her angrier as she stomped off along the road, slipping every couple of steps on the new snow and muttering obscenities. People gave her a wide berth as she stormed along the pavement. The Salvation Army band pulled in a collective breath as she stamped past them: “Weeeeee wish you a merry—”
“Bah humbug bah humbug bah humbug!” she shouted, so loudly that one of the band members dropped his cymbal, which crashed to the ground, making a baby cry and a dog bark. She stomped onward, slipping again and only saving herself by swinging on a lamppost.
Someone was calling her name, but she didn’t turn. The footsteps behind her became louder.
“Harriet! Ms. Smith. Harriet, wait!”
She kept her head down and plowed on until the expensive shoes of James Slimeball Knight blocked her path. She stopped walking and stamped her foot—not her finest moment—and let out a strangulated growl of frustration that caused a cyclist to swerve as he rode past her.
“What? You are a stinking, flatulent beast! I don’t want to talk to you. Go back to Miss Haughty-Pants and tell her to stick her contract up her shriveled bottom!”
James was looking at her with wide eyes.
“Flatulent?”
“Arrrrrggghhhhh!” she roared. James took a step back.“Is that the ‘long-awaited news’ you were celebrating the other night? That her ladyship was finally going to sell the theater? You big capitalist cow testicle!”
“Look, can we just talk for a moment? Believe it or not, I want to help you,” said James.
Harriet laughed mirthlessly. “Help me?” she shouted. She noticed James looking from side to side as people walked by, gawping and stifling giggles. She wasn’t usually one to make a spectacle of herself, but she was steaming mad, and she didn’t know what to do with it. “You call blackmailing a personhelping?”
“Technically it isn’t blackmail…”
Harriet felt her eyes bulge; James must have seen it because he held his hands up for calm.
“I think your ideas for a community space have merit.”
“You mean leverage.” She smudged her hands along her cheeks to wipe off her tears of frustration.
“I promise you, I didn’t know Evaline was going to spring a whole Christmas production on you. I had in mind a talent show or a skit, a bit of window dressing for the potential buyers as they toured the theater. I had no idea she’d escalate it to a full-on bonanza.”
“So it was your idea? That’s what all the scribbling in your little pocketbook was about?”
“It’s actually an Aspinal of London journal…” He must have seen that she was about to go nuclear because he added quickly, “But that’s neither here nor there. Look, I think that your proposal for a safe space for teenagers to hang out is inspired, and I admire your altruism. In my line of work, I don’t meet many people whose motivations aren’t profit based. I promise you, I was trying to be helpful, though I realize it has rather backfired.”
She squinted her eyes to study him more closely. Helooked genuine. But then, he was a lawyer. Weren’t they trained to lie convincingly?
“Will she really press charges if I don’t play along?”
He took a moment to consider. “I could probably talk her out of pressing charges by appealing to her bank balance. But it wouldn’t cost her anything to ask for a meeting with the dean of the school, which—”
“Could cost me my job,” she finished for him.
He nodded.
“How can you work for someone like that?” she asked.
In all honesty she’d had no idea what kind of man he was when she’d slept with him, so she shouldn’t feel disappointed in him, and yet she did.
“She’s my firm’s biggest client. It’s my job, my sworn oath to defend her interests, whether they be personal or business.”
