Page 83 of Mistletoe, Mayhem & Mr. Grump
"Where did he get five hundred thousand dollars?" I ask Holden. "You're disowned!"
"I had a trust fund from my mother," he explains sheepishly. "Sterling didn't know about it and even if he did, he has nocontrol over it. She set it up separately, probably because she knew my father was terrible."
"You gave up your company for the town?" Delia asks, actually looking emotional.
"I gave it up for Wren," he corrects. "The town benefits are just a bonus. Plus, someone needs to protect this place from other corporations. You're all sitting ducks. Adorable, committee-forming, PowerPoint-hating sitting ducks."
"I've never been called an adorable duck before," Teddy says, wiping his eyes with his candy-cane-crusted beard.
"So, your loan is approved," Miranda continues. "Extended terms, a lower interest rate, and the committee wanted me to pass along that they're sorry for the chaos they caused on behalf of Pierce Industries.”
After she hangs up, the shop erupts in celebration. Giuseppe mixes celebration drinks with whatever didn't spill. Teddy drums on the counter. Delia actually smiles.
My phone buzzes with a text from Malcolm.
Malcolm:This isn't over. The yachting community will hear about this.
I show it to Holden, who immediately takes my phone and types back.
Me:Cool. Tell them about your tiny yacht and PowerPoint too. I'm sure they'll be impressed.
"You can't send that!" I protest.
"Too late," he says, hitting send.
Malcolm's response is immediate.
Malcolm:My yacht is NOT small.
Holden types back.
Me:That's what people with small yachts say.
"Stop antagonizing him!" I say, trying to grab my phone.
"It's fun," he protests, holding it above my head. "Look, he's sending boat pictures now."
Sure enough, Malcolm's sending photo after photo of his yacht from various angles, each trying to make it look bigger.
"Is that the same angle repeated?" Delia asks, peering at the screen.
"With different filters," June confirms. "That one's definitely using a wide-angle lens."
"This is sad," Mrs. Patterson observes. "We should stop."
"One more," Holden says, typing.
Me:Nice fishing boat.
Malcolm's response must be just keyboard smashing followed by seventeen angry emojis.
"He's having a breakdown," I observe.
"Good," Holden says. "He deserves it after theadequatecomment."
"You're still mad about that?" I ask.
"You're magnificent," he says simply. "Anyone who can't see that deserves whatever maritime insecurity they get."
