The Holiday Games

Chapter 9

nine

. . .

Caroline

W hat have I done?

What in the name of very hard, very cold concrete, that will splinter my bones into tiny pieces if I fall on it, have I done?

“You were too busy flirting and chasing the dragon of crisis management to remember that you don’t know how to skate,” I mutter as I grip the makeshift railing around our new “rink” with sweaty palms.

I’m supposed to be wearing red mittens to match the white coat with the red polka-dots the costume department gave me, but my anxiety sweat is too intense.

“You too?” the woman next to me asks, tugging at the black scarf wrapped around her pale throat. In her black dress, black coat, black scarf, and dramatic black eyeliner, she’s like a character from the Addams family, but the look in her blue eyes is friendly as she adds, “I grew up in the woods on a gravel road. I never learned to do anything on wheels. I can’t ride a bike or roller skate. Pretty sure I’m going to break every bone in my body.”

“Me, too.” I exhale a shaky laugh as I extend a hand her way. “Caroline, but my hand is a sweaty mess so don’t feel obligated to shake it.”

“No worries.” She grins and gives my elbow a bump with hers. “I’m Jenna, the other last-minute recruit. I think I’m supposed to be the ‘bad’ girl to your ‘good’ one.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Well, you don’t seem bad to me. And I don’t think I’m going to be America’s Hospitality Sweetheart. I’m more of an acquired taste.”

“Nah, you’ll make a fine sweetheart,” Jenna says. “You have a Laura Ingalls Wilder smile. Remember that show? The Little House on the Prairie? God, I loved it when I was a kid.”

“Me, too,” I say, grinning. “I used to watch reruns with my grandmother and daydream about what it would be like to have siblings. I always wanted a big sister and a little sister.”

Jenna snorts. “No, you didn’t. I mean, it’s fine now that we’re grown. But growing up, Jessica stretched out my shoes and Jane never let me come smoke cigarettes in the park with her and her friends.”

I nod, humming softly. “Probably a good thing in the long run. You dodged an addiction to nicotine.”

“I did,” she agrees. “And I have middle child mediation skills that come in handy with cranky customers. Though, most of my guests are cool. You don’t get a lot of uptight people at a goth-themed inn an hour from the city. What about you? You’re from Vermont, right? I bet you get a lot of cranky old geezers.”

I laugh. “I mean, yeah, we have our share.”

Her smile widens. “Tell me more. I need a horror story about blue hairs behaving badly to keep my mind off the horror of being on wheels.”

“Hunh. Let me think…” I look up at the dark sky, searching my mental files for a good story, when I notice the cameraman lurking quietly behind us, filming. I tense and glance back to Jenna, whose smile has taken on a cunning edge. “Were you trying to trick me into saying unkind things about my guests on camera?”

A husky laugh emerges from her red lips. “What do you think? Going to have to wise up, Snow White, or you won’t last ten minutes in this competition. See you at the starting line.”

Before I can reply, she dashes through the opening in the short fence surrounding the skating area, swaying with ease and confidence in her black skates. Halfway across the pavement, she executes a little hop and twist, turning to roll away backwards as she blows me a kiss.

“Dirty rotten liar,” I mutter. “She really is the bad girl.”

“Oh yeah, she totally is,” a woman in a flowered snowsuit and adorable red braids says as she rolls to a stop beside me. “I was coming to warn you to be careful. I’m pretty sure she’s the one who put tacks in my skates.” She extends her hand. “I’m Millie.”

My eyes widen as I take it. “Caroline. Wow, are you sure? That’s awful. You should say something to the production team.”

Millie shakes her head. “Nah, it’s okay. It might not have been her. Even if it was, I’m not afraid of a little dirty competition. My inn is haunted, and I just spent nine months battling the town select board for permission to build an additional guesthouse fifteen feet from the road instead of seventeen feet. I’m accustomed to violence at this point.”

I shudder. “Select boards. What a nightmare.”

“Utter nightmare,” she agrees. “I’d rather be awoken every night by a drunk ghost pirate scratching his hook across my bedroom door than sit through another meeting with people who get horny for red tape.”

“Same,” I agree with a laugh, glancing at her cute yellow skates. “How are you on wheels? I’m probably going to be dangerous, so you’ll want to stay as far away from me as possible.”

“First time on skates in a while?”

“First time ever,” I say. “I’ve done my fair share of ice skating, but roller skating is a whole new ballgame.”

Millie perks up, her warm brown eyes sharpening on mine. “Okay, then you’ll want to get your wheels tightened. Have you done that?”

I shake my head.

“Here, I can do it for you,” she says, pulling a tool from the pocket of her snowsuit. “I tightened mine for a little more stability on the turns. It’s a pretty small area out there, so I’m betting our challenge will be more focused on control than speed.”

“Really?” I ask as she kneels down in front of me. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” she says, inserting the tool into the center of a wheel on one side.

I nibble my lip. “You’re not trying to sabotage me, are you?”

She looks up, grinning. “No, I’m just bossy and like helping people. I have five little sisters. But staying a tad bit suspicious of everyone is a good idea.” She glances back down, making more swift adjustments. “There. Try them now. You should feel steadier.”

I push cautiously away from the railing, smiling as I roll onto the rink at a much more reasonable speed than my earlier careen from the benches to the edge of the filming area. “Thank you!” I beam at Millie over my shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver. I owe you one.”

She smiles as she stands, tucking her tool back into her pocket. “No worries.”

“No, seriously,” I say when she rolls up beside me. “I’ve got your back. If you need anything I can provide, just ask.”

Millie’s eyes brighten. “Are we forming an alliance?”

I laugh. “Sure, why not?”

“Oh, good. I’ve always wanted to form an alliance. And to visit Vermont. Are the roads really paved with maple syrup and the mountains full of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream?”

“Pretty much. And cows. We have a lot of cows.”

“Contestants this way! Gather up, we’re ready to start the first challenge!” Ainsley shouts from across the pavement, where she and Leo stand by two sparkling Christmas trees.

Between the trees, a thick red line marks the start of our race…or whatever we’re up to out here.

Millie exhales a shaky breath. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” I scoot across the rink behind her, feeling more confident with every push of my skates. I’m not going to win any speed records with my wheels tightened, but I feel so much more in control. My ice-skating balancing instincts kick in, and I manage to make it to the starting line without falling flat on my ass.

I’m comforted by the awkward, halting progress of the two men in the competition. Neither Eduardo nor Dirk seems very confident on wheels, either. Jenna is by far the front-runner, followed by Millie. I’m somewhere in the middle, which is fine with me.

After all, to stay in the competition, I just have to make sure I’m not last.

And if I am the first to be sent home, that might not be so bad, either.

The energy between Leo and me is dangerous. When he turned to me earlier, after I called him a cranky romantic, I was positive he was going to kiss me. If he had, I wouldn’t have pushed him away. We’re a lit match and a bucket of kerosene that have no business being within five feet of each other.

But that doesn’t stop me from admiring how sexy he is as he’s gives orders to the crew, while Ainsley talks us through the rules of the first challenge. His bossy confidence is magnetic, not intimidating, and his good heart shines through with every encouraging back pat he offers to the sound team and camera crew.

He’s a good man who deserved so much better than what Vivian did to him. My cousin clearly broke his heart—I can see the pain and confusion in his eyes every time he mentions her name—and the “fixer” in me would love nothing more than to be the one to mend it.

But that isn’t in the cards for us. Leo needs someone with no Cane DNA, and I need a man who’s open to embracing small town life. As much as I love the city, my family, my work, my friends…they’re all in Reindeer Corners.

Though, I can’t deny helping tackle last-minute production problems was a rush unlike anything I’ve felt working at the inn in a long time. I love the energy on set and thinking fast on my feet. And I really love the moment the lights all flare at once, transforming the rink into a winter wonderland, surrounded by Christmas trees, fiberglass presents nearly as tall as I am, and…a terrifying creature that towers over the far side of the rink that I somehow didn’t notice in all the excitement.

Maybe because it’s all black and dark brown, colors that faded into the shadows until the filming lights were turned on. But now, it draws everyone’s attention as Eduardo bleats, “That thing’s fangs are longer than my arm.”

“Glad you mentioned that, Eduardo,” Ainsley says, a wicked glint in her eye. “You know that saying ‘all bark and no bite?’ Well, old Krampus here is all bite, and he’s going to take a big one out of one of you.” She points toward the ten-foot statue as its eyes begin to glow a disturbing red. “You’ll notice five bags by Krampus’s feet, each one with letters on the front. You’re in charge of filling the bag with your initials. The last one to fill their bag will be leaving us at the end of the challenge tonight.”

“Fill it with what?” Dirk emits an aggressive, staccato laugh. “Each other? That’s the only thing I’m seeing around here big enough to fill one of those bags.”

Ainsley lifts an arm, making a circle motion. “No, you’ll be filling them with coal for Krampus to put in the stockings of naughty children across the world.” Crew members appear around the edges of the rink, rolling large green garbage cans. They empty the bins, sending what looks like large chunks of papier-maché “coal” rolling across the pavement. “And you’ll be doing it while delivering hot chocolate to the guests who are wearing a sash that matches your skates.”

Eyes wide, I watch as a dozen or more extras materialize from behind the band shell and roll onto the rink. It looks like four of them have red scarves to match my red skates.

“But don’t worry,” Ainsley adds. “The hot chocolate will only be lukewarm. So, if you drop it on yourself or a guest, you won’t be harmed, just one mess closer to being disqualified.”

“Evil little woman,” Dirk mutters.

“For real,” Millie agrees, but she sounds excited, and Jenna actually laughs as she says, “Sweet. What’s the prize for first place?”

“First place gets gourmet high tea at The Ritz tomorrow afternoon, plus immunity from the losers’ challenge tomorrow morning,” Leo says, grinning as he backs away from the rink’s edge. “Believe me, you’re going to want that immunity, friends. It’s a gross one. You’ll never look at clowns the same way again.”

I exhale, my pulse racing as Ainsley puts her whistle to her lips and the rest of us queue up on the red line.

Okay, then first place it is. Clowns and I don’t get along under normal circumstances, let alone “gross” ones. I can’t imagine what they’ve cooked up that combines the creepiness of clowns and something “gross,” and I don’t want to find out.

I curl my fingers into fists and scan the skaters, deciding fetching hot chocolate will be my first mission. That’s going to require more control and care. Afterwards, I can crawl around on the floor gathering “coal” if I have to.

I’m so busy memorizing the location of the people with red scarves that I’m not paying attention to the other contestants. That proves to be a potentially fatal mistake when Ainsley blows the whistle, and I’m suddenly falling flat on my face.

I land with an oof and a hiss of pain as my bare hands scrape against the pavement and look up in time to see Jenna laughing over her shoulder at me as she skates away. By the time I’m back on my feet, everyone else has hot chocolate or coal in hand. So, I do what any good innkeeper would do—I think fast and outside the box.

Breezing over to the first red-scarfed cutie, I grab her arm and announce brightly, “Up for a game?”