Page 40 of The Mistletoe Kisser
“Thankyou.” Mrs. McCafferty giggled.
“We have to go,” Sammy said, before the “No, no. Thankyou” game could continue. She dragged Ryan toward the door. “See you at the Solstice!”
“Yes, the Solstice,” Mrs. McCafferty said. “Don’t forget. I want a wreath with a red velvet bow and bells.”
“Red velvet bow and bells,” Sammy promised over her shoulder.
“Oh! One more thing,” the shopkeeper called after them. “If you two are looking for Rainbow, I heard she’s meeting the Solstice Recycling Committee at the cafe this morning.”
“Thank you,” Ryan called as he was dragged through the door.
“The Liam Neeson of accounting? That was impressive,” Sammy said, sliding behind the wheel.
“Felt pretty good,” he admitted, stabbing the seat warmer button. “I still don’t see why I needed new clothes or why that woman insisted ongivingthem to me.”
And just like that, Grumpy Ryan was back.
“Oh, you’ll see,” Sammy said as she backed out of the parking space and headed north. “Now put on your hat and gloves like a good boy.”
He crammed the hat on his head and frowned at his reflection in the visor mirror. “Don’t you people have normal, black ski hats?” He flopped the ear flaps up and then down again.
She bit back a laugh. “What’s the fun in that?”
“Not everything has to be fun,” he pointed out.
It was hard to take him seriously with ear flaps. “I bet you had fun once, and it was awful,” Sammy teased.
“As a matter of fact,” he harrumphed.
She laughed. “So, how do you feel about cows?”
“Cows? Why? Are we stopping for burgers?”
She smirked and cranked up the Christmas carols.
To: The esteemed members of the Beautification Committee
Subject: Calendar stand shifts
Dearest Committee Members,
As you know, in addition to our ongoing Operation Frolicking Condor, we will be selling our tasteful nude fundraiser calendars during the Winter Solstice and Multicultural Holiday Celebration. Due to the popularity of our calendar, we would like to have three committee members staffing the booth at all times.
Attached please find a shift sign-up sheet and digital photos from the calendar to share on your social media accounts.
Yours truly,
Bruce Oakleigh
11
Hershel Dairy sprawled out over 120 acres of rolling fields and pastures ten miles north of Blue Moon. Fifty pampered dairy cows called the acreage and huge green barn home.
“This does not look like a coffee shop,” Ryan observed.
“Good news. Your hangover hasn’t blinded you,” Sammy announced as she pulled up to the immaculate dairy barn. “This is a work stop. I’ve got a herd check on dairy cows. You can wait here or you’re welcome to join me,” she told him.
“Yeah. I’ll wait,” he drawled.
