Mistletoe Mayhem (It's All About the Mistletoe Book 2) Read online

  “Mistletoe Mayhem”

  It’s All About the Mistletoe #2

  By Laura Ann

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  MISTLETOE MAYHEM

  First edition. October 7, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Laura Ann.

  Written by Laura Ann.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  NEWSLETTER

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  *Sigh*

  CHAPTER 1

  DON’T FORGET!

  Other Books by Laura Ann

  DEDICATION

  I became a mother for the first time

  just days before Christmas.

  To my first Holiday Baby,

  may you continue to bring joy and

  happiness to our lives.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  No author works alone. Thank you Victorine,

  You and your sister make it Christmas every time

  I get a new cover. And thank you to my Beta Team.

  Truly, your help with my stories is immeasurable.

  NEWSLETTER

  You can get a FREE book by joining my Reading Family!

  Every week we share stories, sales and good old fun.

  To get in on the action, just click HERE

  PROLOGUE

  “Okay... everyone here?” Lane asked, her eyes darting around the screen.

  “Lane and I make six!” Wren shouted from just behind Lane’s head.

  Grace held back a laugh when Lane winced and covered her ear. Leave it to Wren.

  “Geez, Wren, we can hear you just fine,” Lane grumbled.

  Wren shrugged unapologetically. “Sorry. I’m a little overexcited.”

  “Ya think?” Lane rolled her eyes.

  “It’s just that we haven’t seen each other in FOR-EV-VER!” Wren made a silly face at the screen, and Grace let go of the laughter she was holding.

  That girl never changes, she thought fondly.

  “It may have been years since we were all together, but Wren, I don’t think you’ve changed at all,” Faye said through a snicker, saying Grace’s thoughts out loud. Faye’s purple tinted corkscrew curls brought a burst of color to the screen full of faces and Grace’s artistic eye was entranced.

  “Wren might not have changed, but some of the rest of us have,” Britta frowned and looked down at her lap.

  “Yeah, well, you needed to put on a few pounds, Girlie.” Wren sniffed. “Now you actually look like an adult instead of a little girl.”

  “Wren!” Lane scolded and elbowed her in the ribs. “Be nice.”

  “I am!” Wren made a face. “She looks great. I was just telling her that.”

  “Then just say she looks nice,” Lane said with exasperation. “You don’t have to-” She shook her head. “Never mind.” Lane turned back to the computer and smiled. “How about we get to the point of this video call, huh?”

  “Here, here!” Grace called out along with all the other girls connected in.

  Lane cleared her throat. “As you all know, Evanwood’s Christmas Ball is coming up,” she started.

  “Can you believe it?” Grace interrupted with a laugh. “I swear time goes faster each year. We all graduated ten years ago, people!” Ten years and I’m still barely paying the bills. How pathetic.

  “No kidding,” Faye added. “That stupid ball is just a constant reminder of how fast it all goes.”

  “I don’t know,” Esther piped up. “It sure feels like ten years to me,” she said softly.

  “That’s because you stayed in that podunk town,” Faye said with a shrug.

  “Ladies!” Lane snapped. “We’re not here to pick on each other.” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought we were all friends?”

  Seriously, Grace thought. We never fought this badly in high school.

  “Sorry, sorry.” Faye put her hands up. “You’re right.” She looked pointedly at Esther. “Sorry, Esther. Just because you made different choices than me doesn’t mean they were wrong.”

  Esther kept her gaze on her lap, but nodded.

  Lane rubbed her temples and Grace understood the frustration. All the things that made us outcasts in high school made us perfect for each other. Now it seems like those exact same things are driving us apart.

  “Come on, Girlies,” Wren said. “Let’s get on with it. We called this meeting because of the upcoming ball... and the fact that every, stinkin’, single one of us... is still single.”

  Grace winced. It’s not necessarily by choice, she thought glumly.

  “What exactly are you expecting us to do about it?” Britta narrowed her eyes. “So we’re single. Most of us aren’t coming home for the ball anyway.”

  Lane sat up straight, jumping back into the conversation. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to change.” She bit her lip before continuing. “I think we should all meet up. Like we said, it’s been years since we’ve been together and ten years since we graduated. Don’t you think we should all take advantage of the opportunity?”

  “Why?” Grace scrunched her nose in disgust. That stupid ball is just a chance for people to show off. “Like you said, it’s not like we have anyone to introduce to the town, and we keep up with each other on social media. Why bother coming to the ball?”

  Lane squished her lips to the side. “I just...” she glanced at Wren, who nodded in encouragement, “I just thought it might be nice to see each other and to show everyone what we’re up to.”

  Faye frowned. “What exactly are you getting at?”

  Wren pushed her face back into the screen. “Haven’t you guys received your invitation yet?”

  “No,” Faye huffed. “What does it say?”

  Lane sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Mostly the usual, but then it makes a remark about bringing a significant other, or not coming at all.”

  Gasps came through the tinny speakers, followed by silence.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Grace mumbled to herself. Who in the world takes an annual tradition and makes it couples only?

  “Who the heck came up with this idea?” Faye snorted.

  “Camille,” Esther said softly. When the rest of the girls looked at her, she shrugged. “I already have my invite as well. I’m sure it reached me earlier since they know where I live. Anyway, Pastor Larsen needed help this year and Camille volunteered. She decided she wanted it to be more exclusive, so she’s only allowing you to come if you have a date.”

  “Should have known,” Britta muttered under her breath.

  “She probably married some hotshot lawyer and wanted a better chance to show off her diamonds,” Wren said with a smirk.

  “I don’t think she’s married, but she is dating a doctor. Plastic surgeon I think,” Esther supplied.

  “Then it’s not diamonds she’s showing off.” Wren snickered until Lane elbowed her again. Grace bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  “How do you know all this?” Faye asked.

  Esther shrugged. “The gossip mill around here hasn’t slowed down one iota since you all left.”

  “Nothing was stopping Camille from bringing her date to the ball anyway, why get all snooty about those who don’t have one?” Grace asked.

  All eyes turned to Esther, who blushed bright pink. “Um... all I know is what the
old ladies at church are saying.”

  “Do share,” Wren encouraged with a mischievous grin.

  “Well, I guess Camille has moved the ball from the church to the Evanwood’s Ballroom and is really going all out.”

  “Meaning?”

  “She’s trying to make it all high-society and stuff, I guess.” Esther shrugged. “But the date thing I was told was to weed out... undesirables.”

  “Undesirables? Are you serious?” Britta squeaked. “That’s ridiculous!”

  Esther made a face. “All I know is the rumor. I haven’t spoken to Camille in person. She doesn’t actually live here anymore.”

  “Then how the heck did she come to be in charge?” Wren demanded.

  “Beats me. But she does visit a lot. Her parents and grandma are still here.”

  “Who is she to say we have to have a man? Can’t we all go stag? Buck the rules a bit? ” Grace asked hopefully.

  “Oh sure, until she has her dad arrest us for ruining her precious party.” Faye rolled her eyes.

  “Only Camille would be able to get away with that,” Britta grouched. “Stupid sheriff’s daughter.”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Grace leaned into the screen, suddenly suspicious.”What I don’t understand is why Lane is so set on us all going.” All eyes turned to Grace as she spoke, and she immediately sunk back in her seat, uncomfortable with the attention, but still curious. “None of us are friends with Camille, never have been. So why are you set on us going to the ball? We can just ignore it like we have for years.”

  Lane chewed on her inner cheek, obviously contemplating whether or not to answer.

  “Because Camille sent her a personal note along with the invitation,” Wren supplied.

  “Wren!” Lane screeched. She glared at her best friend, her face flaming with embarrassment. “You promised!” she hissed.

  Wren shrugged. “Desperate times, Girlie.”

  “What did the note say?” Faye interrupted and all the other girls nodded, wanting to know as well.

  Lane sighed. “She wrote me a nice little letter about how sad it was I wouldn’t be able to come and that maybe I would have better luck next time.”

  “You can’t be serious!” Esther gasped.

  “Serious as a caffeine addiction,” Wren said glibly.

  Faye whistled and folded her arms over her chest. “We’ve been gone ten years and that girl still can’t leave you alone? What is her problem?”

  Lane shrugged. “I’ve never done anything to her, so I don’t know why she hates me so much.”

  “It’s just because you were prettier and nicer,” Britta piped in. “It’s a classic tale of jealousy.”

  Lane smiled and shook her head. “Don’t I wish. Anyway, I guess I... I don’t know. It’s dumb and I shouldn’t be intimidated by her petty bullying.”

  “Alright, everyone, listen up.” Wren pushed her way in front of Lane and got her face right into the webcam. “As much as we might not want to admit it, we were total losers in high school. Every. Single. One of us. Now, we have the opportunity to shake it up a little. One of our own is being taunted by a prissy know-it-all who needs to be taken down a peg or two. Are we all really going to say that after ten years we still can’t get a date to a dance? Are we willing to carry the banner of loser on our foreheads for the rest of our lives?” Wren clucked her tongue and shook her head. “I, for one, am not. For once, just once, I want to show up with the hottest guy in the room and make all those wimpy, cheerleading snobs envy me.” Wren put her hands in the air. “Call it pride, call it ego, call it whatever you want, but I’m sick and tired of coming in last and this is our one chance to come out on top. And! Best of all, in doing so, we are defending Lane’s honor.”

  Britta scrunched her nose. “You’re being dramatic, Wren.”

  Wren pointed at the screen. “Maybe so, but you have to admit I have a point.”

  Grace reluctantly nodded. Everything she said is true... unfortunately.

  Faye folded her arms over her chest. “So, what are you proposing?”

  Wren scooted to the side and Lane got back on the screen. “All we’re trying to do is help each other out. I thought between the six of us, we could help each other find a date and maybe save some face on the dance floor.”

  “So we’re looking for fake boyfriends?” Grace asked with wide eyes. “Really? That sounds so... naughty.” And totally against anything I would ever do... so why does it sound so fun?

  Lane winced but nodded. “Yeah. Kinda, I guess. I mean... no one has to know but us, and the guys of course. But I think that’s better than trying to find a real boyfriend on a short timeline. Talk about awkward.”

  Nobody spoke for a moment as they all thought about the situation.

  Faye slapped her hand on the table she was sitting at. “I’m tired of Camille coming out on top, too. I’m in.”

  Lane smiled. “Great!’

  Grace took a deep breath. “Me, too.” She shrugged. “I mean, why not? Unless the guy’s a total weirdo, it should make for a pretty fun night.”

  Britta nodded. “Yeah, it will. I’m in as well.” She smiled. “Plus, I don’t want Lane to have to take all of Camille’s nastiness.”

  All eyes turned to Esther, who was chewing her lip.

  Grace watched her friend’s indecision, knowing exactly what was going on. As best as Grace could tell, Esther hadn’t dated since high school, ever since her first love ditched her for the big city. Going to the dance would be a huge step for the shy secretary.

  “I guess so,” Esther finally agreed. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

  “Woo hoo!” Wren put her hands in the air and hollered, once again making Lane grimace and cover her ear.

  Lane glared at Wren before turning back to the girls. “That’s great, guys. I think we’ll do much better with us all planning together.” She smiled. “We have one month until the ball, so that should give us plenty of time to come up with potential candidates.”

  Faye chuckled and Wren snorted at Lane’s description.

  “So, for our first assignment, everyone needs to make a list of men they know who might be willing to help us out. You can even pair them with a specific partner if you think a certain person would get along with them the best.”

  “On it!” Grace said with a smile. Maybe... sorta...

  “Sounds good!” Faye added.

  All the other women nodded and after a few more minutes, they logged off.

  Grace sat staring at the blank screen for awhile longer, then sighed heavily. “Who am I going to get to go with me?” A pair of golden eyes drifted into her thoughts, but she quickly shoved it aside. “No,” she stated vehemently. “Vaughn hates me, and no matter how attractive he is, I refuse to go to a dance with a guy who can’t stand my company.” She snorted and lay her head back against her chair. “I’ll just have to think of someone else.”

  CHAPTER 1

  Grace tapped her fingers on the glass countertop, not caring that she would have to come back and clean off her finger markings. Her nerves were running high and she had no way of getting rid of the excess energy. Going crazy inside an art gallery wasn’t exactly considered appropriate behavior.

  “What’s got you all worked up today?” Cynthia, her coworker, asked, her eyes pointed towards Grace’s nervous tic.

  Grace immediately pulled her hand into a fist and forced it down to her side. “Nothing. Everything’s fine,” she said with a fake smile.

  Cynthia frowned. “Uh huh. And I’m the Queen of England.”

  Grace pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “I can see it. You look a little bit like her, you know. White hair, coordinated skirt sets... short.”

  “Ha!” Cynthia barked, then pointed a manicured finger at Grace. “Even with the fact that I’ve shrunk over the years, I’m still taller than you, Missy. So watch the cracks about my height.”

  Grace grinned. Cynthia was old enough to be her grandmother, but cool enough t
o be a friend. The woman was elegance personified. She was in her sixties, however, the color of her hair was the only giveaway. She stayed in shape and wore modern, trendy clothing, including heels all day long at work.

  If I didn’t love her so much, I’d be jealous, Grace thought with a smile. Squad goals...

  “Ah, you know what they say about height, Cynthia?” Grace hedged.

  The older women narrowed her eyes and turned her head slightly.

  “That God only worked on things until they were perfect.” Grace waved a hand over herself. “I just was perfect faster than the rest of you.”

  Cynthia threw her head back and laughed. “That moxy will get you everywhere, Girl.”

  “Grace doesn’t have moxy,” a deep voice grumbled sourly. “She’s got sarcasm, which isn’t good for anything.”

  Grace grit her teeth and closed her eyes as the deep, rolling tones of Vaughn’s voice swept over her. She knew exactly what she would find when she turned around. The frustrating man would be standing with his legs apart and his arms folded, emphasizing the size of his biceps. His tool belt would be hanging low on his hips and he’d have a sneer on his face, which would do little to disrupt the glorious artwork he had obtained through genetics.

  Her heart felt as if it would push right out of her chest as the adrenaline from earlier came rushing back with force. Her reaction to him today felt worse than normal. He set her on edge every time they met, but today was special. It was only three days until the Christmas Ball and Grace had run out of options for fake boyfriends. The only man left in her life who hadn’t been asked was the very man who wanted nothing to do with her.

  “Now, Vaughn,” Cynthia scolded with a click of her tongue. “That wasn’t nice at all.”

  Slowly, Grace turned, and discovered she’d been exactly right. Even down to the distractingly perfect bulge of his muscles. “Hello, Vaughn,” she said with a smile. “What are you building today?”