Page 43 of OMG Christmas Tree
I did as commanded and the photographer snapped away. Derek laughed.
“Now do a nice one,” one of the mothers said. Honestly, I didn’t know which one. Their combined powers were startling.
After the photographer moved on, Megan collapsed into laughs. “This is the face I made.” She showed me a toothy frozen smile with dead eyes.
I cracked up. “Even if you’re trying to look bad, you can’t.”
She swatted me. “Stop. Hey, is there something I can volunteer for? I don’t have any cash to donate.”
“You’re a guest here. You don’t have to spend any money.”
“But it’s a charity event.”
“You’ve already done so much.” I didn’t want to be talking about this. There had to be some mistletoe around here. I should start carrying it with me.
“Excuse me, Nick Bennington?” An aging man in a red sweater vest held out his hand.
We shook. “Mr. Farinski. Heard you’re retiring.”
He adjusted his wire frame glasses. “It’s time. You’ll make a great replacement. Crystal Cove needs to keep tradition with a Bennington on staff.”
I laughed a little too loud and cleared my throat. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“You’re a sharp kid and just what this town needs. We have an interview spot saved for you.” He gave me a wink before moving on.
By some miracle, maybe Megan hadn’t heard any of our conversation.
Megan inched closer. “What was that about keeping a Bennington on staff?”
No miracle for me. I backed us toward a corner, hoping to keep out of sight of, well, anybody. “It’s nothing. This town, it’s...small.”
Megan squared off with me, her red dress like a stop sign I couldn’t blow past. “Are you—” She stopped, seeming to consider her words. “I know I’ve meddled enough with your life, but I have to ask. What about the interview in Madison?”
“What interview in Madison?” That would be Mayor Bennington now at my side. I hadn’t made our corner hidden enough.
“Hey, Mom.” I flashed her my charming smile.
“What’s in Madison?” she repeated. The smile never worked on her.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Nothing. Just...”
That feeling, when a parent waited to throw down thegotchahammer and you had to do everything to delay the final slam? That was happening right now.
Megan gave me an encouraging smile.
“Nick,” Mom urged.
“There’s an interview. With Whitewater Distillery. For a marketing job.”
Understanding crossed my mother’s face. “That’s what you meant about opportunity.” Her expression landed somewhere neutral. “It sounds promising. Let me guess. Megan, you live in Madison?”
Megan’s brow furrowed, then she shook her head no. “Chicago.”
Mom pressed her lips together. “I’m sure you’ll have more details for us. Nick, I came to tell you it’s time to announce the first raffle winner.”
I nodded as Mom walked away.
Megan ran her hand up my sleeve. “You talk about feeling held back, but the only person I see holding you back is yourself.”
