Page 67 of Mistletoe, Mayhem & Mr. Grump
"That sounds wrong," June points out.
"You haven't seen what I can do with angel hair," Giuseppe says darkly.
"No one's pasta-fighting anyone," Delia declares. "We're going to handle this professionally."
"How?" Wren asks.
"First, we're going to the gala as planned," Delia announces. "All of us. Together."
"I'm not going anywhere with him," Wren says, pointing at me.
"Yes, you are," Delia says firmly. "Because Malcolm will be there with his yacht stories, and I'll be damned if we let him win because of corporate interference."
"This isn't about Malcolm!" Wren protests.
"When Malcolm's involved, it's always partly about Malcolm," Teddy says wisely. "Remember the harvest festival?"
Several people mutter about legal complications.
"Why—" I start.
"NOT NOW," Finn cuts me off.
Sterling honks again, longer this time.
"I should go," I say, heading for the door.
"Good," Wren says, but her voice wavers.
"To tell the board exactly where they can shove their acquisition plans," I clarify.
"You'd do that?" Wren asks, with a tiny bit of hope creeping into her voice.
"I'd do more than that," I tell her. "I'd burn the whole damn company down if it meant protecting this town. Protecting you."
"I don't need protection," she says.
"No," I agree. "But you deserve it anyway."
Sterling lays on the horn continuously now.
"Someone should really sugar his gas tank," Giuseppe mutters.
"I have sugar," Mrs. Patterson offers, pulling a bag from her purse.
"Why do you carry sugar?" Finn asks.
"Emergency baking situations," she explains.
"How is that an emergency?" June asks.
"You never know when you'll need to stress-bake," Mrs. Patterson says defensively.
"Or commit light vandalism," Giuseppe adds hopefully.
I pause at the door, looking back at Wren. She's surrounded by her army of eccentric defenders, covered in pasta sauce from our failed lunch, holding a candelabra like a weapon.
"Falling in love with you is the only real thing I've ever done," I tell her.
