The Holiday Switch(52)

    We both crack up.

“That. Was. Madness,” I say.

“I have never, ever witnessed anything that chaotic. What did I even do that whole time?”

“You did everything, Teddy. And pretty well, actually.”

“Are you just saying that so you can thank my teacher?”

“That’s actually a stellar idea.” I reach to pat myself on the back, but groan. My arms are sore, and my cheeks hurt from all the smiles for customers and from laughs with Teddy—I haven’t had that much fun working in forever. “But seriously, the arrows on the floor? The complimentary samples of the Bookworm Inn boxed chocolates? It was genius. After you thought of passing them out, they flew right off the shelves. Your strategy worked.”

“Someone told me once that a way to a customer’s heart is through their eyes. And I thought, why not open the box for them to see what’s really in it?”

I warm at the thought that Teddy actually listened to me. “That was all you. But thanks.”

“I didn’t get to say it earlier, but…I had a good time ice-skating and taking pictures with Santa. And at karaoke.”

This time, my groan is deep and regretful. “We don’t have to talk about karaoke.”

“But, Sandy—”

I laugh. “Shut up!”

“No seriously, you were so good.”

“Thanks.” And yet, suspicion nags at me. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean what’s up?”

“That was a compliment sandwich. I’m waiting for the bread.”

    He throws his head back in laughter. And maybe it’s the furnace kicking in, but a warm flush starts in my toes, rushes straight up my torso, and then up my neck.

Teddy rests a hand behind his head and dips his chin to his chest. “Now that you mention it…”

The warmth halts at the level of my chin. I sense that someone needs a favor. “Let me guess, you need for me to take a shift.”

“Yeah, actually. The thirtieth. Tita Lou just put up the schedule and I’ve got—”

“—practice for your competition.”

He nods. “It’s coming up close, and I want to spend as much time climbing as I can. Will you do it? We can switch shifts.”

I heave a breath, but I don’t actually mind. The last few days brought our relationship to another level, to real friendship.

“I don’t have any shifts to switch,” I say.

“I’ll owe you one?” He raises his hand for a high five. “I’m good for it.”

I roll my eyes and slap his hand.

“You’re the best. Yesss,” he says.

Our hands fall, still intertwined. My gaze drops down to our linked fingers. He’s still holding on. I’m still holding on.

And his hands are warm, calloused, and strong. This is the first time we’ve really touched. Not glove to glove, not hand to carabiner, or hand to shoulder. But skin to skin.

His eyes are rounded, startled. But neither of us lets go. And, after the initial shock, it feels right. Comfortable.

Voices snatch our attention. At the sound of footsteps, we jump back. I find myself in front of the flimsy souvenir sunglasses. As I rearrange the inventory, I brave a final glance at Teddy, who’s working on separating the magnets. I wish a pair of these sunglasses could render me invisible.

    Ms. Velasco enters with a familiar face—Kira Mahoney, Jonah Johanson’s PR person. Their smiles are as bright Rudolph’s nose.

I feel like a voyeur, peeking out from behind the display. But I don’t want to disrupt them. In my periphery, Teddy is silent too.

Until the magnets he’s arranging fall to the ground, making a clacking noise.

“Oh!” Ms. Velasco scans the floor. “Teddy? Lila?”

We both inch away from our hiding places and head toward them.

“Hi!” I wave. “Hi, Kira.”

Teddy does a halfhearted salute.

Ms. V looks just as flustered as we feel. “Thanks to both of you for stepping into the shift.”

“Yeah, sure.” But what I’m curious about is Kira’s presence. What can I say? I’m nosy. “Is there news about the event?”

“Actually, yes.” With a short and sweet glance at Kira, she says, “We’ve been ironing out the schedule. Took a little bit with coordinating arrival and departure times, and of course the staffing we would need.”

“But we have it down now,” Kira adds.

“Can you share?” I clasp my hands against my chest. I’m just short of getting on my knees and pleading.

“The actors will participate in a panel. Then we’ll have fireworks, and a special book and swag signing. We’re expecting the daughter of the late author to come represent the author camp.”

My jaw drops at this, and tears prick my eyes. “Wow, that’s so special.”

    “Well, I’d better get on the road,” Kira says. “We’re supposed to get dumped on tonight, and I want to beat the snow.”

“Thank you again for stopping by,” Ms. Velasco says. Right then, if I could put an emoji to her expression, it would be heart eyes. “I’ll walk you out.”