The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska #1)(111)
Well. That certainly would have been informative.
Rescuing half a dozen cheap plastic elves from a snowy death wasn’t the worst thing Lana had ever done, although she would have appreciated a few less smirks aimed her way. Lana never had liked it when everyone looked at her when she stepped into a room. She was used to it, but she didn’t like it.
She’d learned a long time ago to compensate for that discomfort by throwing her best and brightest smile to the room. Usually it worked to take the attention away from her, but not this time. The gathered townsfolk most definitely didn’t smile back.
“Tough crowd,” she murmured to the plastic elves in her arms.
As meeting halls went, the barn worked well. A wooden stage had been built on the end furthest from where Lana had made her less than grand entrance. At least most of the people present hadn’t witnessed her faux pas. They’d scooted the chairs around to form rows facing the makeshift stage up front. If Ben hadn’t told her where they held town hall meetings, she never would have been able to find it. By the looks she received when she headed toward the front of the barn, more than a few people wouldn’t have minded her absence.
They’d tried to make the barn seasonally appropriate, filling it with a cheerful if haphazard assortment of holiday decor. Most was fairly innocuous, but liberties had been taken with Rudolph’s antlers, and something seemed to be going on between Mrs. Claus and Frosty the Snowman, if the twinkle in her eye was to be believed. The pile of elves had been hanging out near the rear escape exit, the one Lana had unwittingly entered. They’d probably had the right idea.
The combination of strings of blinking Christmas lights, red and green plastic ornaments, blue and white papier-maché snowflakes, and gold sparkles painted on popcorn balls was somewhat jarring. Someone had mounted a star on the top of a cardboard cutout of a lamp made out of a woman’s stockinged leg, with several presents stuck underneath, although no one had informed Lana that this was the gift-giving type of meeting.
Drawing her coat close to chase away the chill, Lana scanned the room, searching for a friendly face among the familiar ones. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted a short, slender brunette in glasses seated off to the side, across the room from a folding table loaded with coffee urns and holiday treats. Zoey Caldwell glanced up from the book in her lap as Lana approached, brightening when Lana waved at her in greeting.
“I saved Graham a seat, but you can have his,” Zoey joked. “He’s been a brat all day.”
“Is he ever not a brat?” Lana replied, sitting down next to her best friend.
“Hmm, good point.”
The constant good mood Zoey had been in since moving to Moose Springs still hadn’t faded, and she gave Lana an enthusiastic hug. A hug Lana happily returned. It was embarrassing to admit how much Lana wanted those hugs…and needed them. They had met years ago at a truck stop diner outside of Chicago. Zoey had been Lana’s waitress, and something between them had simply clicked. If Lana had to be honest with herself—which was more of a pain than she wanted to think about at the moment—her relationship with Zoey was the healthiest human interaction she’d experienced in her entire life. And it meant more to Lana than Zoey realized that they would be spending the holidays together.
Lana glanced around. “I was hoping Jake would be here.”
Jake was originally Graham’s dog, but all three of them worked equally hard at securing the blind border collie’s affection. So far, Zoey was winning.
“We asked him if he wanted to come, but he preferred to sleep by the fireplace.” Adjusting her glasses, Zoey said, “I think he was done being dressed for the day. Graham changed his outfit four times.”
“Jake’s wearing pajamas right now, isn’t he?”
“His Christmas Ninja Turtle pj’s.” Zoey rolled her eyes. “They’re his favorite.”
They both knew whose favorite those pj’s actually were.
“How did the meeting go?”
“Festively phallic,” Lana decided. “Almost as festive as this place. How did it go meeting Graham’s parents?”
“They’re just like him. Loving, wonderful, excessively loquacious. Their place in Anchorage is right off the inlet, and it’s very cute.”
“But?”
“But that’s a lot of Barnett humor in one room.” Zoey shuddered. “I might need to crash with you tonight, so I don’t murder him.”
“My couch is always yours.” Lana squeezed Zoey’s hand, briefly leaning in her friend’s shoulder companionably. “I don’t think the heater is doing much to help.”
“Graham is bringing another one and some more chairs. I guess people always show up when his cousin’s wife, Leah, makes her holiday mix.”
As Zoey expounded on the deliciousness of holiday mixes, Lana made a mental note. Leah, Graham’s cousin’s wife, owner of a local car rental business and one of Lana’s recent acquisitions. These days, it seemed like everyone was either directly or indirectly affected by the mass purchase.
“You have your work face on.” Zoey nudged Lana with her elbow. “You’ve been running a hundred miles an hour since this summer. You need a day off.”
“If I took a day off, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” Lana joked. Zoey wasn’t wrong, though. Lana was dying for a day of no phone calls, no emails, and no penises.