Peppermint and Poison (Christmas in Harrogate #4)

Chapter 1

WILLOW

“Iwant an actual Yule log this year.”

“Gran, no. No one wants to burn down the Christmas market.”

“I pay taxes. I should get a bonfire,” she rails as I shoo her out of the Jingle Bites stall. “Let’s see the Grinch burned in effigy.”

“Excuse me!” A woman stomps up to me. “Excuse me! I want a refund on this Christmas crackle candy.” She waves a half-eaten bag of chocolate at me. “It made Brayden sick!” She points at a green-looking five-year-old.

I try to look sympathetic and not annoyed. “Ma’am, I can’t give you a refund. Most of the bag is gone.”

“This is an outrage. I want to speak to your manager!”

“I own the Jingle Bites Café and the associated Christmas market stall,” I tell her. “I am the manager.”

“Then I want to speak to the mayor.”

“I think she’s busy with the tree-lighting ceremony that’s about to happen.” I gesture to the humongous evergreen. Gideon Cross is putting the finishing touches on its lights.

Then I see her. No, not the mayor.

Her. Taylor Grace Nicole Glass, my ex-friend and toxic coworker, is powering through the crowd, sending children screaming and reindeer howling.

Not really, but I want to run and hide, and I would if I didn’t have an irate Karen in my face, trying to get free candy out of me.

“You’ve been sending me to voicemail!” Taylor Grace shrieks.

All the people at the Christmas market—most of whom are drunk on alcohol, Christmas treats, or both—turn and stare as Taylor Grace descends into an angry tirade.

I’m cursing the fact that I inherited such a good stall placement because this close to the mega Christmas tree? I’m the star of the Christmas pageant.

“Um, hey, what’s up, Taylor…?”

She’s flanked by two men: one in tweed with elbow patches and wire frames, the other taller, handsome, broad shouldered. He would be cute if he weren’t wearing a trench coat and a literal fedora.

Freak.

“Uhhhh…” Her eyes bug out as she mocks me. “Uh, what’s up? What’s up? You mean aside from the fact that you cut me out of my own bakery that I helped start?”

“Oh, is it time for our weekly scheduled freak-out?”

“You see—” Taylor turns to Dr. Jonah Merriweather, therapist and elbow-patch wearer. Hack, more likely, if he can’t see through her lies. “This is what I’m saying. She is emotionally abusive.”

“Now, Willow,” Jonah says in a condescending tone, “Taylor just wants to tell you her truth.”

“I really don’t have time to get into a three-hour circular argument with you right now.” I glare at Taylor Grace.

“Taylor Grace set a boundary,” Dr. Merriweather says in an annoying, nasally voice. “And you need to respect that boundary and listen to what she is trying to say. Really hear her. I need you to practice active listening, Willow.”

“That’s not how boundaries work…” I roll my eyes.

“Um, ma’am, I am still waiting on my refund,” the customer interjects. “You need to take care of personal business when you’re off the clock.”

“Personal business?” Taylor Grace’s shriek reaches a deafening level.

Townspeople swarm in front of my stall, probably hoping for a fight to break out.

“You think this is personal business? You’ve been telling people the Jingle Bites Café is your personal business?

You would be nothing without me. You’re so stupid and lazy and uncreative, you never could have come up with any of these new Christmas treats without me.

And instead of giving me full ownership of the bakery like you promised, you’re trying to steal it from me! ”

“That was never the deal…”

“It should have been.” Her face is red with anger. “You did nothing to build this bakery.”

“Are you kidding me?” I holler at her, falling for the argument trap.

“You would half-ass ideas that I then had to find a way to make work and taste good because you went around town telling people we were going to have maple reindeer doughnuts, even though we don’t have a doughnut fryer, so I had to buy it on credit.

There are a thousand things like that, and now all of my money is sunk into this godforsaken bakery. ”

“No, you didn’t,” she says automatically.

“Yes, I did. I literally have bank statements.”

“So now you’re accusing me of stealing money?” Her tone immediately changes, and her eyes start watering.

Crocodile tears.

“Willow is calling me a thief, Hughes.”

Fedora gives her a sympathetic look.

Idiot.

“This conversation doesn’t feel safe,” she says, chin wobbling.

“You started this fight.” My teeth grind. “You came over here, while I’m trying to sell Christmas candy to keep this business afloat, literally just to start an argument.”

“She’s gaslighting me!” Taylor Grace turns to Dr. Merriweather. “Do you hear her?”

“Yes,” he says soothingly. “Willow has an anxious attachment style.”

“No, Willow does not,” I snap. “Willow is tired of running this bakery by herself while Taylor Grace gets all the money, does no work, and takes all the credit for it.”

“It’s my bakery,” my ex-best friend sniffles.

“You are emotionally deregulated,” Dr. Merriweather declares, looking down his nose at me.

“Um, Taylor Grace might be paying for you to dish out toxic therapy speak, but I’m not,” I hiss.

“Taylor Grace is trying to speak her truth, and you need to listen.”

“Isn’t that what Tall, Dumb, and Handsome is here for?” I nod to Trench Coat.

“What?” The young guy next to them shakes his head. “I’m not—”

“You’re wearing a fedora. You really complete this little trio of toxic TikTok culture come alive like Frosty the Snowman.”

“Hughes is my private investigator.” Taylor Grace flips her hair. “He’s collecting evidence that proves you have maliciously and willfully tried to steal my bakery.”

“She tried to be nice and work with you,” Fedora says, “but obviously, you want to do this the hard way.” He cracks his knuckles like this is some Martin Scorsese Netflix special.

“What the fuck? I’m in Crazy Town.”

Then Taylor Grace screams like she’s being murdered. “Get that little freak!”

Taylor points at Gideon, who is crouching down in my stall.

“I told you, not here,” Dr. Merriweather hisses at Gideon Cross.

“I’m not here for either of you.” Gideon holds up the end of an extension cord. “Plug this in for the tree.” He sticks it at me.

“Can you say please?” I sigh.

“Hollis said I could.” He glares.

“Sorry!” Hollis shouts, rushing in, her arms full of boxes.

Taylor Grace’s nostrils flare as she stares at Hollis. “Another traitor.”

Hollis sighs. “Taylor…”

“It’s Taylor Grace,” my ex-best friend snaps at Hollis, who runs behind the counter to start taking orders from the people in line. “And you have her working for you now?” My ex-best friend turns on me, furious. “She’s replacing me. You pushed me out.”

“Yes, Taylor, I told you I needed help. It’s the Christmas rush.”

“And now you’re going to hire him, too, I bet.” She points at Gideon, who is glaring at the therapist.

“He’s just rigging up the Christmas tree, Taylor. Because not everything is a vast conspiracy to take you down. The rest of us in town are trying to put on a nice Christmas market. Not everything is about you.”

“Gaslighting!” Taylor Grace shrieks.

Hollis winces.

“They’re all gaslighting!”

“No one is gaslighting you except that therapist,” Gideon tells her as he checks the cable. “He’s putting all these ideas in your head.”

“Don’t listen to him, Taylor Grace.” Dr. Merriweather puts his arm comfortingly on Taylor Grace’s back. “He is, in my professional opinion, mentally ill.”

“Is that your new boyfriend?” Gideon nods to Fedora.

“Um—” Fedora frowns.

Taylor Grace giggles.

Dr. Merriweather looks shocked.

“I think we need to have another therapy session about this.”

“Beware,” Gideon tells Fedora. “You stick your dick in crazy, and look what happens. Run, brother. Don’t walk. It’s not too late to save yourself.”

“Gideon and Willow are working against me!” Taylor Grace screams. “I bet you two are in a relationship behind my back.”

“I don’t have time to be in a relationship because I’m trying to run the shop and clean up after your mess!” I holler. “Now purchase something or get out of my Christmas stall.”

“This isn’t over,” Taylor Grace shrieks at me. “Karma is going to get you.”

“I wish karma would actually help during the Christmas rush if karma’s so concerned about the state of the Jingle Bites Café!” I scream after them.

The Karen clutches her little boy.

I grab a bag of Christmas crunch candy and thrust it at her. “Here. Merry fucking Christmas.”

“Well. We won’t be patronizing this stall anymore. And I’m going to complain to the mayor and the grand master of the Christmas market.” She shoos the little boy away.

Fuck them, I am emotionally deregulated.

I slump against the counter and breathe in the scents of snow and Christmas.

Normally, it’s my favorite time of the year.

I love the way the entire small town of Harrogate comes out to put on a month of Christmas festivities.

I love the Christmas food. I even love Gran’s annual holiday sweater party.

Now?

Christmas is officially ruined, and we’re barely recovered from Thanksgiving. Thanks to Taylor Grace, the Jingle Bites Café is in the red. I’m so stressed I can barely sleep. Unfortunately, all the stress hasn’t caused a loss of appetite, so none of my clothes fit.

Pro tip: An oversized scarf helps hide the fact that you can’t zip up your jacket.

And because Christmas is the time that retailers are supposed to fatten up before the long, cold march to summer, I can’t even dig out of this hole, because Taylor Grace is determined to take not just half but all of the company.

Well, all of nothing is nothing. Taylor Grace thinks she can run the Jingle Bites Café? No way.

I wish I’d never gotten involved with her.

You meet someone you think is a kindred spirit, then they turn the tables on you as soon as you’re trapped with them.

“Who was that hot guy?” My friend Josie skips into the stall, diamond ring glittering on her finger.