“You do great with kids.”
“That’s not customer service. That’s herding.”
“Then this will be good practice for dealing with grownups.” She handed me a red volunteer apron, withReckless River Chili Throwdownprinted across the front in sparkly gold letters.
“Do I at least get hazard pay?”
“Nope.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Also,” she said cheerfully, “you’ll be working with Drew.”
I froze. “Excuse me?”
“He’s helping too.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked him to. And because you two clearly need supervision, and I’ll be close.”
I shot her a look that could melt ice. “You are an evil genius.”
“Thank you,” she said sweetly, already walking away to organize the contestants.
I stood there, staring down at the apron like it was a trap, which it was, and muttered, “Of course. Of course he’s here.”
As if on cue, a familiar voice drawled behind me. “Nice apron.”
I turned to find Drew leaning against the edge of the chili booth, hands in his pockets, a smug grin firmly in place.
“Matches your eyes,” he added.
“My eyes are not red and glittery,” I said.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Drew smiled wider. “They look very fiery and…”
“So, you’re telling me I’m the devil incarnate of Christmas?”
He chuckled, folding his arms over his chest. “I never said such a thing.”
I glared. “Shouldn’t you be charming the contestants or something?”
“I’m off the clock until 2,” he said. “Lydia assigned me to your table. Said you needed backup with the samples, and I’ve got a few minutes until I’m professional.”
“I need peace and quiet.”
He grinned. “Good luck with that.”
Before I could respond, Lydia’s voice rang out over the square.
“All right, everyone! Welcome to Reckless River’s Annual Chili Throwdown! Be sure to try each batch and vote for your favorite!”
The crowd erupted in applause, and within seconds, the line formed in front of our table.
“Showtime,” Drew said, handing me a ladle.
“I hate this,” I muttered, scooping chili into a small paper cup for the first customer.
