Miss Frost Ices The Imp: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 2) (6 page)

He closed his eyes and purred. “Spider likes scratches.”

So much for that. “You talking is weird. I just have to say that.”

He stopped purring and looked at me. “No more talking?”

“No, that doesn’t seem fair to you. I guess you don’t have any more thoughts on how this happened, huh?”

The purring started up again as I scratched under his chin, causing his answer to vibrate out of him. “No-o-o-o.”

“Okay, worth a shot.” I stood up. “I have to go to the office. Cooper will be coming over for dinner, just so you know.”

Spider didn’t say anything. He was either asleep or didn’t care. Either way, I was starting to feel very much like I had a roommate.

Once I got to my office, settled behind my desk and dug into the workload that needed doing, Spider’s newfound ability was temporarily forgotten. Work was good for clearing the mind of all other thoughts. Or at least, pushing them off to a dark corner.

I decided to do the schedule tomorrow. I didn’t have the name of the new employee or when they were arriving, anyway. The inventories weren’t anything major, just lots of checking and double-checking to make sure my order sheets were right.

Once those were done, I put them in an official correspondence envelope (red eight-and-a-half-by-eleven) and walked it to the Santa’s Bag.

Every Santa’s Workshop had one. Naturally, the original was carried by my uncle Kris on Christmas Eve, but these were modeled after that one and used the same magic. They were the same shape and size, about three feet by four feet—if a red velvet sack could be measured that way. And they were bigger on the inside. Much bigger. Like a TARDIS.

But no, Uncle Kris is not a Time Lord. Just stopping that rumor before it starts.

The bags always kept their upright shape too, although it was easy to see when there was something in them. If they were full, they bulged. Even if it was one tiny block or a solitary sheet of paper. If they were empty, the sides sagged inward.

Ours was empty at the moment. I loosened the golden drawstring around the top, opened the sack and dropped the envelope in.

The sides puffed out with a soft whoosh, then slumped in again as someone on the North Pole side took out my envelope. In a day or two, our bag would be full with the orders I’d just sent through.

I tied the bag up and was a few steps away when I heard the whoosh again. I looked back to see the sides bulging.

When I dug into the sack, I found a large box with my name on it. I smiled at my mom’s swirly handwriting.

I grabbed the box, which was surprisingly heavy, and took it back to my office. It wasn’t even halfway open when I smelled the sugar. My mother had sent goodies. My mouth started to water as I took out the first of three containers.

Number one held my mom’s famous snickerdoodle toffee cookies. You haven’t had cookies until you’ve had cookies baked by Santa Claus’s sister. Not saying my aunt Martha can’t bake—she totally can. But my mom’s cookies are kind of world class. How do you think my uncle Kris developed such a hankering for them?

Container number two was heavy with eggnog fudge. That was Aunt Martha’s specialty, and it was like Christmas in your mouth. I felt all warm inside knowing my family had thought of me. Obviously, they’d been planning to send me a care package. Me asking for another snow globe was just a happy coincidence.

Container three was the second snow globe. I unwound the bubble wrap keeping it safe and found a little handwritten note on my dad’s official stationery.
This means we’re going to talk more, you know.

I laughed. “I know.”

I set it on the corner of my desk, next to the picture of my parents. It looked nice there, even if an empty snow globe was a little odd.

Work—bills this time—kept me occupied until Juniper stuck her head in. “Hey, you busy? I don’t want to interrupt.”

“No, I can take a break. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to see if you needed anything from the Shop-n-Save for your dinner tonight with Cooper. I’m going to run over there since my shift is over.”

I looked at the time. “It’s five o’clock? Snowballs, I did not mean to work that long.” I jumped up and grabbed my purse. The goodies could stay in my office, especially because I’d eaten the last of my gummy bears while doing my paperwork. “I do need stuff for dinner tonight, but I’ll go with you. The rest of this can wait until tomorrow.”

“Excellent.”

We took two company bikes and rode to the grocery store. Ten minutes later, we were in the aisles and filling a buggy. Not too much, of course, but the company bikes had baskets, so between us we’d have no problem getting everything home.

And I’d made my life easier by buying most of Spider’s necessities at the pet store down the street from the warehouse. It was a little more expensive, but the convenience factor outweighed the cost bump. You try biking while balancing a twenty-pound jug of litter. Nothing about living in the North Pole prepared me for that.

I tossed a box of spaghetti into the cart, then picked out a jar of sauce. “Have you talked to Pete lately?”

Juniper nodded. “We’re going to Café Claude this weekend.”

“Oh, excellent. It’s a great place.”

Juniper pushed the buggy as we walked to the meat counter. “It’s kind of spendy, though, isn’t it?”

“It’s not that bad. And Pete’s a pharmacist. I think they make decent money.” I nudged her. “Speaking of, I’m promoting you to first-shift manager. And Buttercup to second-shift manager. You’ll both be getting a raise.”

Juni let out a little squeal. “That’s awesome, thank you!”

I grinned. It was nice to be able to do that. Definitely one of the perks of the job. “It’ll be effective this pay period.”

“I’m so happy. Thanks!”

“You both earned it. And frankly, you were overdue.” I picked up a pack of ground beef to add to the sauce. Cooper was a big guy with an appetite to match. I couldn’t invite him over for dinner and not feed him something substantial. “I need garlic bread and one of those summer fruit tarts from the bakery.”

She turned the cart in that direction. “Don’t you think the ones from Delaney’s are better?”

“Definitely, but I worked too long and don’t have time to run down there now.” The tiramisu would have to wait. “And I’m not trying to impress Cooper too much. This is just a thanks for his help this morning, not a let’s-get-back-together dinner.”

“Oh, right. I forgot that you’re pretending you don’t like him as much as you do.”

I shot her a look as we walked into the baked-goods section. “I can see that promotion has gone right to your head.”

She stuck her tongue out at me and went to get some breakfast pastries while I picked out a berry tart and a loaf of ready-made parmesan garlic bread.

We grabbed a few more things, hit the checkout and were cycling home a few minutes later. We parted in the hall, each of us loaded down with bags that made unlocking our doors harder than normal.

I got my stuff inside and set my bags on the kitchen counter. “Spider, I’m home.” It seemed like the thing to do. I heard a meow in return.

I unpacked my groceries. Besides the fixings for the evening’s dinner, I’d gotten a dozen chocolate doughnuts (naturally), three trays of frozen mac-n-cheese, which was my current food rut, some nice cheese and a box of wheat crackers. I figured I could put the cheese and crackers out for an appetizer.

Biking had made me sweaty (the fact that it was August in Georgia was also a contributing factor), so I went to shower and freshen up.

As I was about to strip down and jump into the hot water, Spider strolled in. “Spider hungry.”

“I’m about to get naked here.”

“What’s naked?”

“You know…nothing but skin covering you. Er, fur.”

“Is Spider naked?”

“Uh…sort of.” I wasn’t mentally prepared to have this conversation with my cat. “What did you want again?”

He let out a loud yowl. “Hungry.”

“All right, let’s go fix that.” I walked to the little spot at the end of the kitchen counter where his feeding station was set up to see what he needed. The velvet Elvis really did snazz it up. Spider’s dry food bowl was pretty full, but he’d eaten through the bits in the middle so that the bottom of the bowl was visible. I gave it a little shake to redistribute the kibble.

He trotted over and looked inside. “Thanks.” Then he started eating.

I rolled my eyes and went to take my shower, fairly certain that Spider’s ability to talk hadn’t made him any smarter. His little cat brain seemed to process things the same way as before. And he clearly didn’t care what I was wearing, or not wearing.

I shut the bathroom door anyway. No reason to scar him for life.

The shower was five minutes, tops. When I was done, I chose my outfit to be casual and comfy, but not anything that seemed date-like or flirty. So khaki shorts (another new purchase) and a light blue flowered tank top that matched the highlights in my hair.

Cooper would be here in forty-five minutes.
If
he arrived on time, which he rarely did. Cooper was almost always early.

I put it into overdrive. I got the ground beef cooked and added it to a pot with the sauce to warm. Then I wrapped the bread in foil and put it in the oven on low to do the same thing. That done, I set the table. Nothing fancy. Just dishes, silverware, napkins and sprinkle cheese. Along with my new salt and pepper shakers, of course.

Lastly, I started a big pot of salted water on medium so that as soon as he showed up, I could crank the heat to high, get it boiling and dump the pasta in.

With all that done, I took a quick second to check that my makeup hadn’t melted off. The house smelled like an Italian dream, I looked good (casual and cute but not like I was trying too hard), my apartment looked good, and I felt relatively confident that tonight wasn’t going to lead to kissing.

Cooper knocked as I left the bathroom. I opened the door. “Hey, you’re early. So, right on time.”

He smiled and handed me a bottle of red wine and a large bouquet of mixed flowers. “I hope I’m not too early. I stood on the sidewalk for five minutes.”

“Thanks for the wine and flowers.” I moved out of the way so he could come in. “But you shouldn’t have stood out there. You should have come up. We’re friends, Coop. No need to be so formal.” Maybe I was stressing that point too much, but it couldn’t hurt.

“I guess. Smells great in here.” He looked around. “And the stuff you bought today really looks good.”

“Thanks.” I put the wine on the counter and looked for something to put the flowers in. I had a vase leftover from some flowers my parents had sent when I’d gotten bumped on the head trying to rescue one of the store’s kidnapped elves.

I pulled that out, filled it with water halfway and stuck the flowers in. They were gorgeous, but I felt a little bad that Cooper had spent money on them and the wine when this dinner was supposed to be about me thanking him.

It was almost like he thought it was a date.

I heard a pop and turned to see Cooper had uncorked the wine.

“Do you have glasses?” he asked. “I think it breathes better if you pour it in advance.”

I hadn’t planned on drinking tonight. I had work in the morning, but beyond that, being under the influence of Cooper was hard enough to deal with. I didn’t need wine making it worse. “Um, not wine glasses exactly, but there are some in the cabinet there.” I pointed. “And really, I can’t have more than one glass. Work tomorrow and all that.”

He nodded. “Me too.”

As he got glasses out, I turned to put the pasta in the water, which was already boiling. “How was your day?”

He laughed. “It was nuts.”

“Oh yeah?” I gave the pasta a stir then faced him. The glasses of wine he’d poured were easily equivalent to twice what would have fit into an actual wine glass. I was going to have to pace myself. “What happened?”

He handed me a glass, then leaned on the counter. “What didn’t happen? We had a vampire stuck in a coffin, which he claims was a bed when he went to sleep. Then a call for a bird stuck on a roof—”

“How can a bird be stuck on a roof when it can fly?”

“When the bird is actually the mascot for Ricky’s Chicken.”

“The guy who stands outside the restaurant in the rooster costume waving the sign that says ‘Cock-a-doodle-delicious?’”

“That’s the guy. Said he had the sudden urge to climb up on the roof, then couldn’t remember why when he got up there. Couldn’t get down, either.” Cooper sipped his wine. “The whole day was like that. Not a serious call in the bunch.”

I gave the pasta another stir. “Did you also respond to Piper Hodges turning blue?”

“No, but we heard about it over dispatch.” He shook his head. “Man, today was crazy. And it’s not even a full moon.”

I took a small sip of my wine. It was good. Fruity and a little sweet. Perfect for summer or winter elves. I debated telling Cooper about Spider, but he was bound to find out before the evening was over. “Yeah, it was pretty weird here too.”

As if on cue, Spider walked out, sat in the middle of the living room and yawned.