Page 11 of A Holly Jilly Christmas

Well. That kills the possibility of David being the one trying to hold me back. If someone else is trying to infringe here, it’s Case.

I really hope I’m wrong.

I would be incredibly disappointed to find out my impossible crush slash current roommate is the same brand of jerk as our boss.

Case glances around the diner, which is almost empty save for a table of white-haired men talking loudly about football. Case’s espresso eyes are assessing.

Is it wrong to wish he’d look at me with the same intensity?

Maybe not wrong so much as delusional.

Remember: he might be trying to mess things up for you at work.

That thought alone helps get me in the right mindset. My crush isn’t dead, but it’s on life support. Which is a good thing.

“What do you think so far?” he asks.

“It’s okay,” I say, intentionally downplaying. No need to show my hand. “I mean, there are still lots of factors to consider, and we’ve only viewed it at night.”

He frowns, like my answer was unexpected. The town is obviously perfect even at a quick glance. It’s almost a twin for the last location we used, which is so popular and overused there are Reddit threads dedicated to listing all the movies and shows filmed there.

“Tank seems very eager to do what he can to make this work. That kind of motivation helps,” Case says.

It does help. As Tank helped get us settled in the condo, he was warm and friendly, making it very clear how willing he’d be to work with the studio. Tank owns the whole downtown area, which I didn’t think was a real thing outside of the show Schitt’s Creek. Even though we’ll still need approval from city council and will need various other permits Tank has no control over, it really helps having him on board.

“Sometimes people who are too emotionally invested can actually pose a problem,” I say, which is true in certain situations. I’ve seen it more with authors who are too precious about their sweet baby scripts or the adaptations of their books.

In this situation though, Tank’s willingness to work with us could only help. Still, I don’t need to tell Case everything. Not until I know for sure why he’s here.

“Hm,” he says, brows knitting. He stares at me like the human equivalent of a lie detector test, and I realize I’m clutching my silverware like a weapon.

I’m grateful when Case’s phone screen lights up, and he loses interest in me again.

I’m spreading my napkin neatly over my lap when Case jumps right back into the conversation like he hadn’t just abandoned it for his phone.

“This seems like an ideal setup. Especially with the town being in the midst of a revival. It’s also close enough to Austin that it won’t be so complicated for travel.”

I hold back an eye roll. I don’t need Case mansplaining the pros and cons of Sheet Cake to me like it’s not my only job.

“You didn’t explain why you wanted to come,” I say. “You’ve never shown interest in scouting locations.”

Or in me.

Case doesn’t answer but just keeps glancing around the room like he’s going to be tested later on the details.

“So—why did you?”

Case’s eyes slide back to me, and I refuse to look away, even as he studies my face.

“I’m curious about this aspect of the business,” he says.

I’m no facial expression expert, but I’ve watched enough crime shows to see that Case is a dirty old liar. Or a hot, not-so-old liar. As he spoke, one side of his mouth turned down in a frownier frown than his normal one, and he couldn’t hold eye contact.

Interesting.

And … maybe terrifying. Because this only solidifies my suspicion that he might interfere with my plans.

“Really? What aspects, exactly?” I try to keep my voice even, but I’m about as bad an actor as he is a liar.

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