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I sucked in a deep breath and forced a Customer Service Smile to my lips. “Gentlemen,” I said in as pleasant a voice as I could muster. “We’re celebrating Christmas, right? I don’t think arguments are allowed.”
Pendleton snorted, an ugly expression passing quickly across his face. “Interesting opinion from the woman who single-handedly tried to stop this event from even taking place last month.”
“Mr. Pendleton, that’s not the case at all. I simply—”
“Voiced concerns about the parking. I know, I know.”
“A lot of seniors come to the shops along the square on the weekends. It’s hard for them to have to park blocks away.”
“So you said.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down his nose at me. “At least Hoss got you in line.”
Got me in line? “I have no idea—”
Mr. Hillbanger interrupted. “Look here, Pendleton, take your sorry ass on down the road. Neither me nor Ms. Kennedy needs to hear any more of your highhanded dictates.”
“Rocky Hillbanger, you have some nerve speaking to me this way. Why, I ought to—”
“Oh my gosh, did someone run the Renegades cart into that car over there?” I pointed dramatically all the way over on the other side of the square where I could just make out the garish holiday lights of the decorated golf cart. I didn’t know if there was a car even near the thing, but my words were enough to send Pendleton scurrying off the sidewalk and across the busy green.
A rusty chuckle pulled my attention from Pendleton’s retreat. “Good call there, Ms. Kennedy. That man sets my teeth on edge.”
“I could tell.” I nodded across the square. “He’s gonna figure out I tricked him, but I’m hoping something else grabs his attention and keeps him on the far side over there. And you should call me Rae.”
“You know,” Mr. Hillbanger said with some sort of weird contortion twisting up his face. Maybe his version of a smile? “I used to spend time with Leonard Conway in that barn of his. He’d be glad to know how you look out for her. Heard Minerva rents that barn out now.”
I turned to face him, wary but willing to accept the olive branch. “She does. She has a mechanic living in the loft, I think.”
“Easy.”
I cocked my head. “Sorry?”
“She has Easy living out there. Easy is about old enough to be my grandkid, but she’s one of the best mechanics in the area. Don’t let Creed hear me say that.” He guffawed like he’d told the biggest joke, his paunch belly shaking like a bowl of jello. “Though Easy doesn’t really enjoy working on restorations like my girl here.”
I nodded again, but wished Hoss was at my side. Mr. Hillbanger was trying to make conversation with me and I didn’t want to shut him down, sensing the peace offering he was extending. But I didn’t know the difference between a classic and a restoration or the shiny red car that put Timmy in such a tizzy earlier. They were all cars to me, some obviously older than the others, but still cars. Maybe I’d let Hoss give me a lesson or three in this department. Which reminded me—“What do you think J.T. meant when he said Hoss got me in line?”
The contortion on his face sank, dragging his lips into a frown. “That man has no clue what he’s talking about. Anyone with eyes can see it ain’t like that.”
“It’s not like what, though?”
Before he could reply, Camille leaned out of the bakery doorway. “You back, Rae?”
I jumped at the sound of her voice, hurrying over to Camille with a quick wave goodbye at Mr. Hillbanger.
A couple hours passed and the sun disappeared beyond the horizon and the festive lights bloomed. Sparkling red and white and green and gold lit the square. Cars came to life with garish and gorgeous color. Huge candy canes dangled from every light pole, glowing white and red in the moonlight.
I stood at the glass window again as Kyle’s event wound down, my gaze turning as it had so many times tonight toward the antique black car where Hoss had spent more than his allotted time. He’d been tricked, I would bet, into spending the rest of the night as Santa, no rotation with the other straw-drawing guys. He hadn’t seemed to mind, though, and I’d caught sight of Timmy running from his side more than once. Doing the bidding of his favorite adult, I guessed.
But in all that activity, he’d not called or texted. And now he seemed to have abandoned the vintage Model T. Many of the parked cars that had come to show-off had cleared out and people were drifting out of the square. J.T.’s words about Hoss getting me in line echoed in my mind. Something about how J.T. said the words, the ugly, antagonistic glint in his eyes, it all had the hair on the back of my neck standing up. The residual excitement of Kyle’s kisses burned away under a rising sense of unease.
“I hope they leave the lights until after Christmas.” Camille spoke from my side at the glass window.
“Me, too.”
She knocked her shoulder against mine. “Everything’s wrapped up. I’m going to take off.”
“Okay. Me, too, I think.”
“Not without seeing the sexy Mr. Hoss, I hope.”
