ROCKVILLE NIGHTS:
Candy Cane Cocktail
KITTY BARSTOW
CANDY CANE COCKTAIL
Copyright © 2019 by Kitty Barstow.
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
DISCLAIMER: Kitty Barstow does not condone drinking and driving. Please drink responsibly. This book is intended for mature audiences only. Reader discretion is advised.
Cover Designed by: It’s a secret
Edited / Formatted by: Kitty’s not telling
First Edition
TABLE OF CONTENTS
DRINK SPECIAL
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
EPILOGUE
SNEAK PEEK
Bushwacker
DRINK SPECIAL
Candy Cane Cocktail
There are as many ways to create a candy cane cocktail as there are ways to kiss your sweetheart. But no matter which one you choose, they’re all enjoyable and something to be savored.
3/4 ounce berry vodka
3/4 ounce peppermint schnapps
3/4 ounce white crème de cacao
1/4 ounce grenadine
3/4 ounce half-and-half (or 1 part heavy cream to 1 part whole milk)
Crushed hard peppermint candy.
Mix the vodka, peppermint Schnapps, grenadine and crème de cacao with ice in a cocktail shaker. Be sure to put some holiday music on and really shake it up thoroughly. Rim the cocktail glass with crushed peppermint candy canes for an added treat while you’re drinking. Pour the mixture into the glass and top it off with half ‘n’ half.
Enjoy this delicious holiday treat with pretzels if you’re into sweet ‘n’ salty treats.
CHAPTER ONE
Walking and chewing gum is a different skill set than, say, walking in high heels while carrying twenty bottles of perfume cradled in my arms. While I’d mastered the former, the latter was not quite so simple. But my boss often asked me to rearrange the shelves of The Love Hut to maximize holiday sales based on current trends, so I became a pro at transporting perfume bottles.
Today was no different from any other day during the season of giving. Except that I decided to blow a bubble on a whim while I carried out my task. My gum had a perfect consistency, neither too gooey nor too dry. The huge bubble was a pretty shade of pink because true bubble-blowing aficionados know that Bubble Yum is the only way to go. The bubble grew and grew and grew until … BAM!
The gum exploded on my face at the same time that I trampled upon an unsuspecting customer. Our bodies collided with enough force to send my perfume bottles flying in all directions.
“Oh shit! I’m so sorry.” I scrambled to catch as many of the bottles as possible, which proved difficult in a too-short Santa’s Helper outfit and four-inch stilettos. My range of motion was seriously hampered unless I wanted to give the mall-goers a peep show of my butt cheeks.
Twenty perfume bottles smashed against the tile floor an instant later. I didn’t catch a single one. Liquid splashed everywhere. On my white tights. On the customer’s gray pants. The sickeningly sweet scents of roses, lilacs, and cherry blossom comingled and permeated the air. Each fragrance on its own was lovely but together the effect was nauseating.
“I’m so sorry,” the customer said as he steadied me by the arm. “I had my head buried in my phone. Are you all right?”
I glanced up from the hot mess on the floor into brilliant blue eyes. The guy was on the rakish side of handsome, and he stared at me with a peculiar knitting of his brow. Why was he looking at me that way? Ah, my bubble gum. It was still clinging to my face. I sucked it back into my mouth as best I could and then rubbed off the stubborn bits.
“This is all my fault. I’ve grown too cocky in my abilities to multitask,” I said with a grin. “I should’ve been paying more attention too. Are you soaked in perfume?” My gaze traveled down his body, beyond his manly hands to his long legs where a suspicious dark spot near his ankle drew my attention.
He bent over and inspected the damage, dabbing his fingers against the soaked fabric before sniffing cautiously. His nose wrinkled with disgust. “Wonderful, I smell like my grandmother’s living room when she’s hosting her book club members.”
I suppressed a giggle, but the corners of my mouth curled up. “Sounds like your grandmother and her friends have excellent taste in perfume.” One of his eyebrows quirked, and I had the sense he wasn’t really amused.
“Is there a restroom around here?” he asked with a hint of annoyance in his tone. “I can’t show up at my business meeting smelling like a bouquet of flowers. Damn! This is what I get for making a side trip to buy a white elephant gift.”
Air hissed out of his lungs and he ran one hand through his hair. The tousled effect was a good look on him. Tough break. But we were in the Rockville mall, and I knew every inch of every store.
“How long until you have to leave for your meeting?” I asked.
His gaze narrowed on me. “Forty-five minutes. Why?”
“Because Pendersons has a sale on men’s pants today, and I’m certain they carry a similar style and color to yours.”
He gave me a look that said “seriously?”
“Believe me, I used to work in the men’s department. Let me make this up to you. I feel terrible.”
He glanced at the mess on the floor. “Don’t you need to take care of this?”
I shrugged. “Maintenance will take care of it. Just give me a second.”
“Okay,” he said with a nod.
I scurried around to the other side of The Love Hut where my boss Judy was handing another customer a sparkly red bag packed with their holiday purchases. The second the woman walked away, I grabbed Judy’s shoulders and whispered, “I’m taking my afternoon break. I spilled a shit ton of perfume all over the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met, and he’s not wearing a ring! We’re heading to Pendersons to replace his pants. Can you call maintenance to clean up the mess? I’ll pay for the damage.”
Judy smirked and rolled her eyes. “That handsome, huh? He might still be married. A ringless finger doesn’t mean shit. But, fine. Go!”
Grabbing my purse from under the counter, I hurried back to Mr. Hottie. He was several feet away from the mess of bottles on the floor with his smartphone pressed to his ear, nodding at whatever the other person on the phone was saying.
I crooked my finger at him and he fell into step beside me. With Christmas just around the corner, the mall was packed and we had to make it past all the local kiddos posing with Santa. Absolute mayhem. I grabbed hold of Mr. Hottie’s arm, looking up at him with an apologetic smile.
“Don’t want to get separated,” I mouthed.
He only nodded and kept talking in that uber-sexy voice of his. You know what I mean—like that famous singer—Josh Groban? Yummy.
“Merry Christmas!” I said as I shoved my way through an entire family assembled in the middle of the walkway. “Coming through. Excuse us! Don’t forget to ask Santa f
or something extra special. He makes dreams come true.”
Wasn’t I proof of that statement? I had wished for a fun-filled weekend only minutes before a gorgeous man crossed my path. Beside me, Mr. Hottie snorted under his breath. Was he laughing at me? My methods were proven to avoid a nasty bout of holiday mall rage. I worked here long enough to know people would throw down for the craziest little things. But a sweet attitude combined with a few joyful words went a long way.
Less than five minutes later, we were in the men’s department of Pendersons. I made a bee-line for the rack of dress pants that were advertised on sale. After giving Mr. Hottie a once-over, I selected a size 32 / 34 in dark gray.
“I’ll call you back in twenty,” he said to whoever was on the phone. He shoved his smartphone into his pants pocket and looked at me. “Sorry about that—I don’t think I caught your name before.”
I flashed him a brilliant smile. The one everyone said made my eyes shine and the world a brighter place. “I’m Susie.”
His gaze was drawn to my sparkly lips and he stared for a few seconds before he caught himself, shaking his head. “I’m Michael. Thanks again for helping me out.”
“No worries. Here you go!” I handed him the pants on the hanger and pointed to an alcove. “The dressing room is over there.”
After checking the tag, his eyebrow lifted. “How did you know my size?”
I nudged him toward the dressing room. “That wasn’t a pick-up line earlier. I really did work here before.”
His neck flushed pink and he cleared his throat. “That’s right. You did say that. I just—”
“Didn’t believe me? Yeah, I bet a lot of women hit on you.” We stopped in front of the dressing room and I leaned against the doorway. “Happens at least twice a day to me too. Annoying, really. Must be the outfit.”
His gaze raked over the sweetheart neck of my red satin top, down to the white cotton lining around my too-short mini-skirt, and finally at the black fishnet stockings that stood out against my rhinestone stilettos.
“A definite job hazard,” he said with an impish grin. “But I bet it sells a lot of perfume … along with your vibrant personality.”
He was attracted to me. Score. “Yes, yes it does!”
“Just give me a minute…” he flicked his head in the direction of the fitting room.
I nodded and waited patiently for him to change. “So, are you new to Rockville? I’ve worked in the mall for a long time, and I don’t recall ever seeing you here.”
“You know everyone in town?” he called back with a hint of sarcasm.
“Pretty much.” Rockville was a small town. Anyone who grew up here knew the locals. And this guy stood out in a crowd. “No one escapes visiting the mall during Christmas. And I have a thing for facial recognition. Show me a picture of someone as a kid and I’ll pick them out from a crowd of adults.” I snapped my fingers for effect. “Just like that!”
“Impressive.” He came out of the dressing room in the new pants. “They fit perfectly.”
“And they’re 50% off.” I held out my hand for the price tags. “Plus an additional 20% with my mall discount. This one is on me.”
“Oh, no thanks. I can’t let you pay for these when the quality is good and I’ll wear them again. The others just need washing.”
He brushed past me and headed for the cash register. After tossing the price tags on the counter along with his foul-smelling pants, he fished in his back pocket for his wallet. The clerk stared at the price tags in confusion.
“Sorry, Marianne, he’s wearing the new pants,” I interjected. “We had a little accident at The Love Hut. I spilled perfume all over this poor gentleman. And he has an important business meeting soon. You understand. Can you throw my 20% discount on top of the sale? I feel terrible.”
“Of course, dear,” the older lady said. I handed her my employee ID and she began ringing up the purchase. I winked at Michael.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” I asked. “You mentioned something about a white elephant gift earlier.”
He groaned. “Shit! Forgot all about that. I have a Christmas party after my business meeting. My assistant said I can’t show up without one or I’ll ruin our chances to close the deal.”
“Ooohhh! I love white elephant parties. What’s the theme?”
His eyebrows scrunched as he placed his credit card chip in the reader. “I don’t think there is a theme. But the company sells high-end mattresses to a wealthy clientele. We’re not supposed to spend more than twenty bucks.”
Dreamscape. I was familiar with the company through a friend of a friend. Six degrees of separation was real in a small town.
“I have you covered!” I said, unable to conceal my excitement. Shopping was my jam. The clerk handed him a bag with his stained pants and the receipt. I grabbed hold of his arm again and led him to the women’s department. “When I think of a wealthy clientele and expensive mattresses, I think of pink fuzzy slippers with a boa fringe. Or maybe a silk robe in a cougar print? Today is your lucky day. The sales discounts are amazing! Twenty bucks? No problem.”
We found both options in a matter of minutes. I held them out for his perusal. One in each hand. Slippers. Robe. Slippers. Robe. Both fit the bill.
He laughed and shook his head. “I can’t decide. You seem to know more about this white elephant thing than me. What do you say?”
“Definitely the pink slippers. Especially coming from you, it’ll be hilarious. I mean, that’s the whole point, right?”
“Right.” He grabbed the pink slippers and headed for the closest cashier.
“Would you care to have this wrapped?” the cashier Ellen asked.
“Yes. Wait—” He glanced at his watch. “No, I don’t have time. Unless you can deliver the package to my hotel?”
Ellen frowned. “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t offer that service.”
“Then no wrapping,” he said.
“But the party is right after your meeting,” I reminded him. “You won’t have time later to wrap the gift. I can wait and drop it off for you at the front desk of your hotel after my shift ends. Really, it’s not a problem. You’re in this pickle because of me. Remember?”
“Okay.” He handed me three twenties. “But throw in a nice bottle of perfume for my sister for Christmas. She loves vanilla and cinnamon undertones. Can you find something at The Love Hut?”
“I can.” Grabbing the bills, I tucked them into my purse. “Where should I drop off the gifts?”
“Rosewood Grand Resort & Spa.”
Swanky. The man had good taste. And money.
“I promise the packages will be waiting at the front desk for you before seven.”
Michael started walking away but called over his shoulder. “Thanks! You’re a savior, Susie.”
A sucker was more like it because he hadn’t asked me out on a date.
CHAPTER TWO
After my shift ended at six o’clock, I dropped off Michael’s package at the front desk of Rosewood Grand Resort & Spa. The hotel was decked out in Christmas finery with decorated trees that touched the high ceilings and lush green wreaths sporting fancy red bows and pinecones. Simply gorgeous. Being a local, I’d never had the need to stay overnight in the posh hotel, nor could I afford the luxury. But one of my friends was a maid and gave me a private (a.k.a. forbidden) tour the honeymoon suite. Although arguably, the owner of the place was an old high school buddy of my mother, so my friend wasn’t sticking her neck out too far.
Oh my gosh. Talk about beautiful. I wanted to soak in the tub while surrounded by bubbles and drinking a glass of champagne, but apparently, my friendship with Julia didn’t stretch that far, and I’d have a hard time justifying that one to Grace Rosewood!
As I headed for the exit, my smartphone buzzed.
Woody: ‘Wanna stop by and chat? Place isn’t hoppin’ yet.’
Why not? Since it was Friday night and I didn’t have any other plans, a drink at Naughty N
ights with my brother sounded fun. I didn’t get to see him nearly as often as I’d like. Being one of the best bartenders at the nightclub, he probably wouldn’t have a ton of time to chat once the crowd showed up. And the first drink was always on the house—meaning my big brother. He spoiled me that way.
Susie: ‘Sounds great. Be there in 5.’
I tucked my scarf into my wool coat and pulled on my gloves. The walk from the hotel to the nightclub wasn’t far, but winter in Rockville was damned cold, especially since I was still only wearing my Santa’s Helper outfit under my long coat. But I had changed into Uggs, so my feet would be toasty.
When I arrived, there wasn’t a line forming yet. Aaron was manning the door and he wrapped me in a bear hug.
“Hey, gorgeous!” he said, kissing my cheek. “Haven’t seen you around in a while. Here to visit Woody?”
“Yup.”
He shooed me through the doorway. “Get inside, then. It’s chilly tonight. Maybe I’ll catch up with you later. Haven’t chatted in a long while. Dating anyone these days?”
I scrunched my nose. “Haven’t found my prince charming yet. See you later.”
Once inside, I made my way to the long bar and waved to my brother, who was serving a customer on the opposite end. He flicked his chin at me and smiled. I glanced around the nightclub. The place was starting to fill up. At least three-quarters full now. Up in the VIP section, I could see there was a party in full swing.
When I scanned the booths lining the far wall, my gaze collided with a familiar set of baby blues. The corner of Michael’s mouth lifted and I waved, smiling back. He was seated with two other men and a woman. Given their attire, I assumed this was the business meeting he spoke of. Perhaps the negotiations were over and they’d decided to grab a drink. When one of the other men said something to Michael, he broke eye contact with me.
Candy Cane Cocktail (Rockville Nights) Page 1