How the Grump Saved Christmas by Claire Kingsley EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Claire Kingsley
- Language: English
- Genre: Holiday Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
The lobby coffee shop looked like the bastard love child of a
Hallmark movie and an ugly Christmas sweater. Silver garland
decorated the front counter, twinkle lights hung everywhere, and a Christmas
tree decorated in coffee-themed ornaments and colorful blinking lights stood
in the corner.
I almost turned around and left.
And then, the music. Were they serious? It was the beginning of
November. Did they have to play the music, too?
An ominous voice in the back of my mind spoke: it has begun.
I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…
No, I wasn’t. I was dreaming of a cup of dark roast—the coffee here was
exceptional—and the shot of Irish whiskey I was going to add to it that were
going to get me through the rest of this nightmare of an afternoon.
Really, if I could be dreaming of anything, it would be a deserted tropical
beach with a gorgeous woman dressed in something sheer. But I had too
damn much work to do to make that dream a reality.
Yet another reason this day was grating on my nerves. Who scheduled a
holiday party for three o’clock in the afternoon at the beginning of
My boss, apparently. Or maybe HR had talked him into it. Either way,
getting an email with a garish invitation complete with snowmen and candy
canes, to a holiday party the first week of November was crap. I didn’t care if
they thought that meant more people could make it, since December was a
busy month. It made it harder—impossible, even—for me to claim I had
plans and skip it.
Not that I ever had holiday plans. But in December, I could say I did and
no one asked questions. Early November? Harder to make an excuse.
Plus, this year I needed to play the game. That meant I had to come back
to the office after my off-site meeting and show my face at this party.
The holiday music made my back tighten and my jaw hitch in annoyance.
The lady in line in front of me was having a crisis of indecision. She babbled
at the barista, talking a mile a minute. Her laugh grated on my nerves almost
as much as the music. It was all I could do not to growl at her so she’d move
out of my way.
Finally, she ordered something and paid. I stepped up to the counter. The
barista was wearing a headband with blue and white snowflakes that bobbed
when she moved.
“Happy holidays!” Her eyes were too wide, like she was slightly insane.
Or maybe she was just overly caffeinated. “What can I get started for you?”
“Twelve-ounce dark roast with room.”
“Room for cream?”
“No. For whiskey.”
“Are you sure you don’t want our special holiday blend?”
My jaw hitched again. I hated being questioned. “No.”
“Okay, no problem. It’s just really good and we only serve it for a limited
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