Page 67 of The Naughty List Agreement

CHAPTER 17

By the end of the day, Cora was exhausted. She’d had to run back to her office here on the festival grounds only once to put out a fire involving a former mayor who wanted comp tickets. Fliss seemed to be handling most issues, but former mayor Gamble had insisted on talking to Cora.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, but she’d caved and given him the comp tickets. After he left, Fliss gave her a quizzical look.

“You never comp.”

Maybe Nick was rubbing off on her with his one-good-deed-feeds-another thing or maybe it was something else. Something deeper. She felt like she had when she was eighteen and figuring out the kind of adult she wanted to be. There were several possible paths in front of her and the one she was currently on would bring her closer to Nick. She couldn’t question it too deeply or fear would send her scurrying back behind her barriers.

“He wasn’t going to leave until I did. Hardly seemed worth the effort,” she told her assistant. Except the truth was she hadn’t minded comping him. He’d been integral to her early success, giving Cora access to services that first year for a huge discount so she could turn a profit. The board hadn’t wanted to invest in a money pit so had been very strict with the budget.

“Yeah, right.”

“Gamble really helped me my first year. Some comp tickets was the least I could do. If he comes back again, it’s on him.”

“Noted. How’s your time in toy jail?”

“Not as bad as I feared. It’s actually almost fun but I’ll deny that if you repeat it,” she warned Fliss. Cora had a reputation to uphold. She’d never actually been that tough—which Nick had pointed out to her—but that wasn’t news. Her flaws were apparent to herself. Always.

“I have to get back. We might need to order more pens and paper for the paperchain tree. I also need to check our financials on the event and see if there’s room to add some seating attendants to the food court. I had lunch there today and the seating is difficult to manage with a tray of food.”

“I’m on it. I posted the videos earlier and I’ve been commenting on and reposting anyone who tags us. I’ve asked our information booth staff to go out and get video comments whenever they have some slow time.”

“Good, that will help online. I think word of mouth should be strong based on comments I’ve heard in the toy village. How is it at the exit gates? What are they hearing?”

“All raves. Some attendees are talking about a return trip,” Fliss said.

“Let’s give them an incentive with a fifteen percent off coupon code. Can you get some graphics ready for that?”

Fliss nodded. Cora spent another fifteen minutes in her office before heading back to meet with Nick. He’d had to go to his factory to check stock levels; the WonderHaus was flying off the shelves. Cora had some concerns they’d sell out but that would only serve to bring more attention to the toy and to the festival, and therefore increase demand, which would be a win for her.

But not for the kids, she realized. If Nick couldn’t keep up with demand, which Cora admitted was exceeding last year’s toy, then should she have an alternative?

When she got back to the Bari’s Toys booth there was still a line out the door. She grabbed the apron that she’d been issued earlier and donned it, jumping in to helping customers until the jingle bells sounded at 8 pm, signaling that Santa’s elves—as the toy vendors were referred to in the event space—had to return to the North Pole for the night.

The crowds hadn’t dwindled much and it took another thirty minutes before the last customer was served and left.

“Great job today, everyone. I think we have an idea of what to expect in the coming days. I’ll see some of you tomorrow. Have a good night,” Nick said to all the staff.

He walked over to Cora, looking just as yummy now as he had this morning.

“I think I lost the bet,” she told him.

“Ya did. There was nary an eyeroll from you today. I guess that means movie at my place.”

“Your place that’s far out of town? I’m not sure. I have to be home before midnight,” she teased.

“If you’re good, I’ll let you sleep over,” he said.

“Define ‘good.’”

They were alone in the quiet of the toy shop, just the two of them and the boxes of dollhouses around them along with the scent of pine from the fresh boughs that decorated the shop and twinkle lights that danced and flickered.

Nick stopped when he was barely an inch from her. He had one of his ridiculous flannel shirts that hugged his biceps, sleeves rolled up with his tattoos visible. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her.

A slow heat started somewhere around her neck and spread down her body. He’d shoved his hands through his hair numerous times during the day, leaving it tousled, which made her want to run her fingers through it.

“I think I’d rather be naughty with you,” she said.