Page 66 of Mistletoe, Mayhem & Mr. Grump
"He's still here?" Teddy asks, peering out the window. "The corporate raider is just sitting in our town? Bold."
"We should egg his car," Giuseppe suggests.
"We're not egging anything," Delia says firmly. "We're civilized. We'll sugar his gas tank like adults."
"That's still vandalism," June points out.
"It's civic protection," Delia counters.
"Can everyone please leave?" Wren asks weakly. "I'm having a crisis here."
"We know, dear. Iris sent out an emergency text," Mrs. Patterson says, patting Wren's shoulder. "Sterling revealed everything in the inn lobby. Very dramatic. She live-tweeted it."
"Iris live-tweets?" I ask.
"She's very modern," Finn says, checking his phone. "Oh, she's trending. Hashtag CorporateInvasion. Hashtag FakeBoyfriend. Hashtag TragicCallus."
"My callus isn't tragic," I protest meekly.
"It is if it's your only accomplishment," June observes, taking notes.
"I have other accomplishments!" I insist.
"Name one that doesn't involve destroying small towns," Wren challenges.
"I..." I pause, realizing I can't. "I learned to change oil."
"Incorrectly," Finn adds. "You put it where the windshield fluid goes. Twice."
"I improved!" I protest.
"You put windshield fluid where the oil goes," he corrects. "That's not an improvement, that's just a different failure."
"Can we focus on the actual issue?" Delia interrupts. "Pierce Industries wants to buy our town."
"They can't buy an entire town," Teddy protests.
"They can buy enough of it to matter," I admit quietly. "The plan was to acquire key businesses, starting with the most vulnerable."
Everyone turns to look at Wren.
"The toy shop," she says flatly. "I was the entry point."
"The loan difficulties were manufactured," I confirm, hating myself. "Pierce Industries has connections at the bank. Not Miranda—she's clean. But higher up. They created pressure to make you desperate."
"And then you showed up," Wren says. "My knight in shining armor. How convenient."
"I didn't know you then," I say. "You were just a name on a spreadsheet."
"And now?" she asks.
"Now you're the reason I blocked Sterling's number. The reason I told the board no. The reason I'm probably going to lose my inheritance and honestly don't care," I tell her.
"Pretty words again," she says, but there's less venom in it.
Sterling honks his horn. "Board meeting in five minutes, Holden! Don't make me come back in there!"
"Let him come," Giuseppe says, cracking his knuckles. "I'll show him my pasta technique."
