Page 23 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

I forced a tight smile, but inside, I was screaming.

“The officer will be reviewing all the event plans,” the mayor continued, oblivious to my internal meltdown. “And be on-site during the bigger events—the tree lighting, the market, the concert—just to make sure everything’s up to code.”

“Great,” I managed to choke out. “Sounds helpful. Thank you.”

After a few more pleasantries between my aunt and the mayor, we left the office.

I sagged against the hallway wall. “I’m doomed.”

“You’re not doomed,” Aunt Victoria said cheerfully. “You’ve got an actual shot at a job. That’s good news.”

I groaned, covering my face. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“Or this is going to be exactly what you need.”

Later that evening, after I had tried and failed to talk Aunt Victoria into letting me resign before I officially began, my phone buzzed with a text.

Katrina: Drinks tonight? Need to see your face.

I hadn’t seen my best friend since, well, since high school. We kept in touch, of course. Texts, memes, and the occasional phone call. But being back in town and actually seeing her again? My heart did a weird flutter.

Me: Name the place. I’m desperate for alcohol and human connection.

I had only been in the Rusty Stool once and was promptly kicked out with my shitty fake ID. Another con to small towns. Everyone knew everyone. When Katrina and I had tried to sneak in with our fake IDs, the bartender laughed at us. We went to school with her daughter.

Katrina was already at a booth when I arrived.

“Joy!” She jumped up, nearly knocking over her pint glass. “You’re here! In the flesh!”

I hugged her so tight I thought my ribs might crack. “Don’t ever let me leave you again.”

She laughed, pulling me down into the booth. “So. Tell me everything. Start with why my best friend is back in town with zero warning.”

I winced. “Advertising dried up. No work. No prospects. AI bots stole my livelihood. It was either live under the overpass or come back here like a giant loser.”

“You’re not a loser.” She flagged the bartender. “Two tequila sunrises, please. Extra cherries.”

I slumped. “I lost my job. I lost my apartment. I lost my dignity somewhere between crying in the subway and giving away every bit of furniture I owned.”

Katrina reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “You didn’t lose me.”

“Thanks. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming back. I thought I was going to sneak into town and no one would know.”

She snorted. “You’ve been away for too long if you thought that was an option.”

“I know.”

“So what’s the plan?” she asked as the drinks arrived. “Are you sticking around, or is this just a pit stop before you run back to the city?”

I stirred my straw through the orange-red swirls of my drink. “I don’t know. My aunt has me helping out with the Yuletide Festival. Mayor Winslow basically told me it’s a job interview. If I pull it off, I could end up coordinating all of the town’s events. Full-time.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s amazing!”

“It’s… something. I’m not sure it’s my dream. But maybe it could be a step. Work here for a few years, build up experience, see where life takes me after.”

Katrina raised her glass. “To baby steps. And to the fact that you’re home, even if just for now.”

We clinked glasses. At least I had one friend. Too bad said friend was the twin of the guy that was determined to be a pain in my ass.