BAH, HUMBUG!(6)
Maybe the package was from a publishing house. She checked it. It was from “Keefe and Alyssa,” whoever they were.
She carried the package inside, set it on the end table, and shrugged out of her parka.
Just in case she really was going to meet the Kyle Miller, she was going to brush her hair, freshen her makeup, and wear her nice coat.
The day was looking up.
* * *
Clutching the FedEx package in her gloved hands, Lexi pulled her good coat closer around her as she waited for Kyle Miller to answer his doorbell.
She knew someone was home. She had seen someone through the windows a few moments ago. Come on, it’s freezing out here. She’d come to this house earlier, but no one had answered. But she really wanted to meet Kyle Miller and invite him to the party--whether he was the author or not.
She knocked on the door again. Hard. Her breath hung frozen in the air, and she wrapped her muffler around her mouth. At least her lips warmed a little. It had started snowing again, and flakes melted on her forehead and ears.
Finally, when she could barely feel her cold fingers any more, the door creaked open, and a man poked his head out. “What on earth are you doing out there in this snowstorm?”
It was the jerk who’d knocked over her snowman! Oh, great. The Kyle Miller she lived next to was a jerk. She prayed now that he was not the author, because the disillusionment would be a great blow to her children.
He must not have recognized her yet, because of the muffler. She decided to go with it for now. “I’m doing just what it looks like. I’m freezing my fanny off.”
“Oh, right. Come on in.” He motioned inside.
Still carrying his package, she stepped into the foyer.
Warmth. Blessed, delightful warmth.
No Christmas tree, though, or any decorations. Surely he wasn’t married, or his wife would have taken care of it. Of course he wasn’t married, she smacked herself mentally. Who’d want him?
The man closed the door behind her and she wondered if she should be worried, though her anger still burned hotly enough over her vandalized snowman that she felt she could hold her own.
“Here’s an umbrella you can use to get back home.” He brightened as if he’d just realized something. “You are the very first person I’ve talked with since Keefe’s call. Tell me, do you know who I am?”
“Sure.” She glanced at the package as if to check the name. “You’re Mr. Miller.”
“Kyle Miller. Surely you’ve heard the name.” He sounded disappointed. “I’ve been on the best-seller list.”
She paused and tried to paste a blank expression on her face--not that he could see it--as her heart sank. He was the author. Well, if it meant something to him to have her recognize his name, she was glad to pretend she hadn’t. “No. Can’t say I have. I’m just here to--“
He interrupted. “Do you read?”
“Oh, yeah. All the time. Voraciously. I finished Dick and Jane just last night. Fascinating story. Listen--“
He interrupted again. “I’m serious. Don’t you read?”
“I was being serious, too. In a flippant sort of way. Of course I read books. I just have never heard of you.” She shrugged casually. “Sorry.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” He seemed to really notice her for the first time, and his eyes ran up and down her coat and stopped on her muffler. “Isn’t that hot?”
How hot you know not, Mr. Kyle Miller! “The FedEx man delivered this package to my house. Except it was supposed to come to yours.”
Choosing this moment to reveal herself, she pulled the muffler down and said, “Why on earth would you tear apart someone’s snowman?”
* * *
The woman’s voice was as cold as the storm outside and Kyle cringed at the sound of it. This gorgeous woman was the same one who’d refused to let him apologize earlier. Boy, he had really blown it. “It wasn’t what it appeared. I was trying to put the head back on.”
“After you beheaded it.”
“Well, yes, but only because I was looking for a place for the weapon.”
“Of course you were.” She frowned. “And I’m Santa’s head elf.”
“You don’t believe me.” Not that he could say he blamed her. Guilt flooded him as he remembered yanking off the head in his eagerness to try out his villain’s plan.
“No.”
“Well, I can go show you. The villain--well, I don’t want to reveal too much, but--“
She touched his arm and the warmth that tingled up his arm surprised him. “Listen, Mr. Miller, let’s just say I’m not stupid. I do read, and I can tell the difference between fixing a snowman and destroying a snowman. I’m really sorry we’re gotten off to such a bad start as neighbors, but I don’t really see that it’s my fault.” She stepped back. “Merry Christmas, anyway.”