“What are we doing for Christmas this year?” Betty asks, going over to the register to put the stapler away. The store is closed, and we’re all ready to head home for the night. “I loved our Harry Potter themed Christmas part last year. And we still have most of the decorations.”
“It was a big hit,” Kristy agrees. “I’m fine with repeating the same theme.”
“Me too,” I say. “And I’m all about doing what’s easy. Do you think people will come to the same party again?”
“We can make it our theme,” Betty suggests. “And then always have it be a very Hogwarts Christmas.”
“That’s actually a great idea,” Kristy tells her, and I nod. “Assuming it stays popular with our readers, I say do it.”
Betty claps her hands together. “Can I start teasing about it on my Instagram page?”
“Please do,” I say. “And holy followers! You’ve gained like five thousand new followers in the last month.”
“The pictures with your familiars and Scarlet help.” She flicks her eyes to the Irish Wolfhound sleeping by the door. Betty knows the truth about Scarlet, but is still struggling to wrap her head around how my cute little puppy suddenly transformed into what could possibly be the world’s largest dog.
“Binx is more than willing to wear a Santa hat,” I laugh. “He might not admit to it, but if it helps get us likes and follows, he’ll do it.”
“He’s so stinking cute,” Betty laughs and closes the cabinet under the register.
“Are we ready?” Kristy asks, looking around the store. We closed two hours ago and have been putting up our Christmas decorations since…and maybe spent a decent chunk of that time just talking.
“What’s left to move?” Kristy asks as we put our coats on.
“Just the essentials,” I say, zipping up my coat. “The mattress in our room, a handful of outfits, and our bathroom necessities. I’ve been using paper plates for the last two days so I don’t have to do dishes,” I admit.
“We do that at home sometimes,” Betty confesses with a laugh. Kristy arms the alarm and we all go out the front together. It’s a cold and frosty night, and the temp is supposed to drop even more overnight. “And if you’re almost out, I suppose I should start packing up my stuff.”
“No rush,” I tell her. “The house is yours whenever you’re ready for it.”
We’ve already come to the agreement that she can move in pretty much anytime from next week until the start of the new year, and rent won’t start until January anyway. Lucas and I went back and forth on the price of the rent, and finally settled on something more than reasonable for Betty. It’s less than she was paying at her previous apartment, but enough to cover all expenses.
Kristy and I make sure Betty gets to her car safely. Thorne Hill is a safe town—minus the demons that flock here—but you can never be too cautious.
“Thanksgiving is coming up,” Kristy notes as we both head to our cars. “What am I bringing this year?”
“I haven’t even made a menu,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “Can we work on it later?”
“Only if we discuss it over chips and salsa.”
I hook my arm through hers. “You’re speaking my language.”
“Abby is still coming?”
“She is! I talked to her yesterday. And Scott is still pissed as fuck about it.” I roll my eyes. “She wasn’t even going to have Thanksgiving dinner with them anyway. If Phil’s parents hadn’t won that trip, she’d be with them.”
“He’s such a loser,” Kristy says. “And not worth your time.”
“I know.” My head bobs up and down. With everything else going on, I hadn’t given much thought to Scott anyway, if I’m being honest. He’s an asshole, a waste of space, and a constant thorn in my side.
Yet…not very important when I stop and think about demonic murders, archangels who want me dead, and a powerful earl of Hell who’ll stop at nothing to make me his demon bride.
“Tomorrow?” I ask and put my hood up. “Nicole and Naomi said they can meet up for dinner too.”
“Yeah, that’ll work.” Kristy stops and gives me a quick hug. “Take care, Cal.”
“You too,” I tell her, and wait a beat, watching her cross the street. Kristy lives only minutes away and usually walks when the weather is nice. But it’s cold as fuck now, and she’s driving the short distance home.
Scarlet walks at my side, lifting her head and sniffing the air.
“Fine,” I say, enjoying the smell of takeout too. “We can get something on the way home.” She wags her tail and trots ahead, excited to go for a car ride and get a burger. My Jeep is still at the shop, getting the headlight repaired. I’ve been driving Lucas’s Range Rover all week, and I’m secretly loving it. Lucas suggested again I trade my Jeep in for something luxury. I considered my Grand Cherokee to be luxury, though, much to Lucas’s chagrin.