Page 54 of The Mistletoe Kisser
Everyone was bundled up against the cold in bright coats and a neon nightmare of hats and scarves. They were milling about, trying to hold glasses of champagne and napkins of appetizers with mittened hands.
The conversations he overheard seemed too lively, too friendly for this to be a work thing.
The professional events he’d attended—before his unceremonious firing—consisted of small social circles predicting dramatic exits of co-workers and spreading rumors like contagion. The backstabbing and sabotage some of the staff used to get ahead. He hadn’t cared for that part of it. He also had never shown up for a work event covered in llama spit before.
He recognized Mayor Pierce in a narrow alleyway next to the building. The man was in a suit and wool coat, making time with a petite redhead in leggings and a white fleecy jacket that reminded him of Stan.
Ryan hoped that Stan was having fun in the snowy pasture.
The woman looked up at Beckett with the kind of adoration in her eyes that had something weird and burny happening in Ryan’s chest. When the mayor pinned the redhead to the brick and started kissing the hell out of her, Ryan decided to find someone who wasn’t busy making out to point him in the direction of an evil bank president.
He spotted Mason standing on the curb, seemingly oblivious to the clucking and fussing of people around him. He looked up at the building, a ghost of a smile and something that looked a bit like pride on his face.
It was a two-story brick storefront with a large, plate glass window with fresh lettering that said Blue Moon Accounting. The brick had been painted a deep navy, the door a cheerful purple, a color combination he wouldn’t have approved on paper. But in person, it seemed almost charming.
Deciding he didn’t want to interrupt Mason’s moment, he tapped a woman wearing a Karen’s Plumbing jacket on the shoulder. “Can you tell me where to find Rainbow Berkowicz?” he asked. She’d probably left to go to the dog groomers or headed out of town for a 10-day Panama Canal cruise. Or more likely, she’d never existed and he’d hallucinated this entire trip.
“Oh, sure. She’s inside.”
He blinked, momentarily shocked. “Uh. Thank you,” Ryan said. He’d been burned too many times to feel actual relief. He’d save that until he laid eyes on the woman.
From his vantage point on the sidewalk, he saw Beckett had finished his make out session and was heading inside. Ryan tried to make his way through the crowd as politely as possible to follow, but it was difficult when half a dozen strangers greeted him by name and asked how he was liking Blue Moon.
He finally managed to extricate himself from an overly chatty woman in a Save the Bay shirt and entered the building.
The door opened into a small, bright reception area. He’d expected coffins and skulls. But apparently Mason’s wife, Ellery, hadn’t had a hand in the decorating. The walls were a warm vanilla. Plants in glossy white pots sat on a glass shelf in the big front window. A stately bookshelf held new volumes of tax law and New York small business accounting standards. Club chairs in a supple, aged leather—probably pleather given the leanings of the town, Ryan guessed—waited for clients.
There was a coffee bar on a counter fashioned out of what looked like an airplane wing. Coffee mugs with sayings like Accounting Ninja and It’s Accrual World hung from hooks on the wall.
He spotted the redhead from the alley restocking appetizers while discussing the merits of hot yoga with a man in bell-bottom overalls.
Skirting around them, he followed the sound of voices.
Next to the reception desk—more metal like the coffee bar—was a wall of cubbies, big enough to hold binders and packages or thick packets of financial reports. Beyond the desk was a small glassed-in conference room and restroom divided by a short hallway. He liked the vibe of the space. It felt… friendly, healthy. There was no sea of cubicles. No stifling lack of natural light. Basically the exact opposite of his offices in Seattle. And for the first time he considered the fact that maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to be looking for a new challenge.
The first office was already furnished with a desk, workstation, and built-ins. There was a large photo of Ellery in a white wedding dress on the wall. The voices were coming from across the hall. It was another office, this one unfurnished but with a glass door that led outside to a small patio area.
Beckett was in discussion with Bruce the bearded Santa guy he remembered from the liquor store. A middle-aged woman in a crap brown business suit frowned at them and paced the carpet while she listened. In the corner, a woman with a very shiny gray beehive wrung her hands.
“I tried to tell you last night,” Santa Bruce said with the distinct note of a whine in his voice.
The mayor was staring at the floor, hands on hips. Ryan knew that stance. It was the “give me patience before I murder someone” posture.
“What do you mean the state auditor found discrepancies in the paperwork, Bruce?” Beckett said, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the ceiling. Another not good sign.
“Well, it’s not so much a discrepancy. It’s more that they haven’t received any of the paperwork.”
The woman in brown ceased her pacing immediately. “Why the hell not, Bruce?” she bellowed.
“Well, you see, Amethyst was handling the bookkeeping for me. The day-to-day transactions. Except I got her a subscription to this thing called Hulu for her birthday—”
“I fell down what’s called a ‘rabbit hole,’” Beehive chimed in. “Did you know there are seven seasons ofBuffy the Vampire Slayeron Hulu?”
“You’re saying instead of handling the town’s reporting to the state, you watched seven seasons of a TV show instead?” Beckett asked. His voice was very calm.
“To be fair, Mr. Mayor, it wasn’t justanyTV show. It wasBuffy,” Bruce said.
“Uh-oh.”
