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"Is this ridiculous?" I asked, suddenly doubting every bit of planning I’d done all day and wondering if it wouldn’t be better just to go back home.
"No," she said, and the way she drew out the word told me she meant it. "No, this is perfect. She is in the Dickens Suite, after all."
"Maybe she'll just be more angry at me for bothering her." I was trying on the words, but they didn't feel true.
"Quit being a pansy. Do you have the recording?" Annabelle's blue eyes glittered with excitement, and I found a fondness for her growing inside me. Even if she was a little over-enthusiastic about the holidays. She waved me toward a table at the edge of the lobby next to a severe-looking nutcracker soldier, and after disentangling one of her alarmingly upright pony tails from the statue's rifle, she sat down across from me. "Andrew says once you're on the network, you'll be able to see all the devices you can cast to. Hers is 'Dickens.'"
"Okay," I said. "Yes, I see it here."
"Be ready to go," Annabelle warned. "As soon as you take control, whatever is playing on your phone will be on her screen."
"Man, I hope she isn't in the bathtub or anything."
"Oh!" Annabelle hopped up again and scooted back behind the desk, picking up the phone and making a call. She grinned and nodded as she spoke, and then gave me a thumbs up.
"What did you do?"
"I told her we'd had some frogs get into the plumbing and that the guy was here getting them out but that it was important no one takes a shower or a bath for a while."
I was pretty sure that was not a legitimate plumbing problem experienced by hotels. "She believed that?"
"She sounded a little skeptical, but said she wasn't planning to take a bath or shower right now."
"Good." I flicked through my phone, setting up the video so I could easily hit play. I did not need to be thinking about April in the shower or bathtub at the moment, and told my overeager wizarding staff as much. Internally, of course.
The clock struck seven, and I connected to April's television, hit play, and held my breath.
23
Ghost of Christmas Glitter
April
Iwas sitting on the edge of my bed with my legal pad in my hands and theHouse Huntersmarathon on television in front of me. It was time for a pro/con list, and I had every intention of working on it, but after the insanity in the bakery, I was a little drained. Still, when you were offered your dream job by Ryan McDonnell less than an hour after being fired from your not-dream job, you thought pretty seriously about moving across the country.
But that would have her moving into the town where Callan lived.
And given that he was a stubborn jerk, that could be bad.
I wished my heart would quit jumping around like an over-eager puppy, telling me it would be good instead. Of course Singletree wasn’t only about Callan now, though he weighed heavily on my mind. But I also thought about Annabelle, Lottie and Helen, Cormac and the girls and all the other people I’d met and fallen in love with since I’d come here. Maybe I could live here without ever seeing Callan?
I was just about to begin the list whenHouse Hunterswent dead. And something else came on my screen. Some ONE else.
Callan.
"Hi April," he said, looking handsome and perfect as he sat in an armchair next to the soaring Christmas tree in his parlor. What the hell was happening? Why was Callan on my television? Was I having some kind of moonshine-inspired hallucination? I shook my head, but he was still there, eyes deep and dark as ever, boring into me. Could he see me?
"Um, hi?"
Callan's voice cut off my response, and I realized with some relief that he couldn't hear me. "You're probably wondering what I'm doing on your television. Especially because I think you're pretty angry with me right now."
"Yeah, I am," I said, though my voice lacked conviction. Mostly, I just wished I could rewind a couple days and live forever in the time I’d spent at his house, in his arms, in his warm soft bed.
"First," he said, that deep voice rich and smooth enough to make my ovaries stand to attention. "First, I owe you an apology. I should have given you a chance to explain the second contract instead of jumping to conclusions. Cormac told me you lost your job because of it. And I'm sorry. But we can talk about that later."
I couldn't believe what was happening. He'd hijacked my television to give me a half-assed apology?
"I'm here now to give you a warning. Kind of a warning. More of an announcement. Or an alert?" Callan seemed to be struggling for words. "I don't know what to call it. I'm just telling you something. To prepare you. So what is that called? An announcement, I guess. Dammit, I'm rambling. This isn't good at all." He dropped his gaze from the camera for a second and seemed to be thinking. He looked back up. "I'll just get on with it." He took a breath and leaned forward, his face serious.
