Page 37 of Kiss Me at Christmas
“Right, well, lovely to meet you, Ken, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other these next few weeks.” She gave him a grimace, and he laughed. “We’d better make a start.”
“Fair enough. In you go. But stay off the stage until we’ve made sure it’s all secure. I don’t want any accidents on my watch,” Ken warned, wagging a finger at the students.
“On that point we are in agreement,” said James, holding out his hand for the man to shake. “We’ll be keeping a close eye on them, don’t you worry.”
Ken and his colleagues disappeared through the double doors to the old cocktail lounges, and Harriet turned to her students.
“Thanks for coming, guys.”
“Did we have a choice?” asked Billy.
“No, you didn’t.” She smiled. “This is Mr. Knight; he’ll be helping us with our endeavors.”
James became rictus stiff. The students trained their eyes on him, waiting, daring.Don’t show fear, she wanted to urge him.Any sign of weakness and they’ll eat you alive!
Finally. Stiltedly. He stepped forward as though addressing a jury. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Please call me James. Ms. Smith speaks very highly of you. I am here to help in any way I can to make this venture a success.”
Oh dear!
The students were staring at him with a mixture ofdisdain, distrust, and scorn. They said nothing but managed to make their nothing sound more aggressive than words ever could.
“Okay, then!” Harriet declared. Using her arms in the way one might guide a flock of chickens to their henhouse, she ushered the students up the main stairs, which brought them out onto the balcony overlooking the theater below. She glanced back at James bringing up the rear and gave him a sympathetic smile.
“What are you planning to mop, Carly?” asked Ricco, sniggering as Carly—dressed in a camouflage boilersuit and Doc Martens—twirled the mop like a baton.
“I don’t know yet, do I?” she retorted. “It’s called being prepared. What did you bring?”
Ricco pulled a Dustbuster out of his rucksack and gave her a smug smile.
“The battery will run down before you’ve done a flight of stairs,” said Billy glibly.
“And what are you going to do, Billy? Polish the stage?” Ricco retorted in a derisory tone.
“Tess said there’d be a lot of wood.” Billy was defensive. “She said it would freshen the place up.”
Tess and Arthur were Billy and Sid’s foster parents. They were good people—they’d certainly had a calming effect on Billy—but they were well past retirement age and Harriet worried about what that might mean for the boys down the line.
“Tess is right,” Harriet intervened. “This place definitely needs a freshen-up. Everything you’ve brought will be useful. There’s a lot to do, and it’s going to take a joint effort. And no, Ricco, by ‘a joint effort,’ I do not mean that we ought to smoke joints.”
Ricco smirked. “It would make the time pass quicker, miss.”
“The only highs will be elevated heart rates and soaring community spirits.”
Isabel—who took a Cleopatra approach to eye makeup—snickered. “I love you, miss, but you are well square. Are you sure you’re not Amish?”
“Not in those jeans,” said Ricco, chewing his cheek.
“What’s wrong with my jeans?” Harriet asked.
“Nothing’s wrong with them, per se,” answered Ricco. “But they are way too tight to be Amish.”
Harriet found herself smoothing her hands down over her bottom and thighs self-consciously. Isabel saw and said, “Not tight in a bad way, miss. They look good on you. Bums are in.”
Leo made agreeing noises. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw James’s mouth twitch with a smile.
“Right. Thank you, Isabel.” Harriet straightened her back; she needed to remove her bottom from the topic of conversation.
“I’ve never seen you in jeans, miss. You look kind of hot. Don’t you think so, James?” asked Carly.
