Perfect Song (Mason Creek Book 2) by Lauren Runow (christmas read aloud .txt) 📕

garage when I hear the front door to the office open. I walk to the front and see Hattie Jackson standing at our counter.

“What’s this I hear about you snagging a girl?” she asks.

Hattie and her sister, Hazel Jackson, are the town gossips and self-appointed keepers of all that is Mason Creek. Even though they’re twins, they couldn’t be more different, except for one thing—the way they both work their way into your life whether or not you want them to.

I take in a deep breath as I stare at the old woman with her blue-tinted hair and flannel shirt. I only put up with her nosiness because she gives me ice cream from the store she owns with her sister, called Twisted Sisters.

“Now, Hattie, if you heard that, you also heard me scold my son about using that term. What can I do for you?”

“I can’t get my car to start. Would you mind coming to the ice cream stand to look at it?” she says with a flirtatious tilt to her head.

She smiles at me sweetly, but I know better than to believe her. About once a week, something happens, and she needs my help. I’m a sucker, and I fall for her shit every time even though I know she doesn’t really need me.

Hence the ice cream.

We have an unspoken rule between us. I’ll go over and play her game, doing what she thinks she needs, and then she gives me ice cream. It’s ridiculous, but only until you try her huckleberry ice cream. She created that flavor while her sister created the cherry twist. Since I like the huckleberry one better, she likes to rub it in Hazel’s face.

Silly, I know, but if it gets me free ice cream, then I’ll play along.

I glance at my watch and see double. I blink, clearing my eyesight. Pinching my eyebrows, together I shake my head slightly, and slowly, everything comes into view.

I can finally see that it’s still pretty early, and there’s always time for a sweet treat. “Okay, let me finish up with Wilder, and I’ll head over.”

She claps her hands in front of her in glee. “Oh goody. I’ll see you shortly.”

She waves, and I chuckle under my breath at her attempt at flirting.

Chapter Seven

Justine

I’m writing on my laptop when my phone rings with Kylie’s beautiful face shining on the screen. Seeing the image fills me with both happiness and guilt. I love my friends in New York, and I miss them terribly. I just hope they understand why I had to leave.

I swipe the screen to answer. “Hello?” I singsong, making sure she knows I’ll always be happy to hear from her, no matter if I live near her or not.

“Hey, girl. Just calling to check on you. How’s small-town livin’?”

Instantly, I think about Tucker and wonder if I should tell her all about him, but I decide otherwise. If I were to bring up any kind of relationship topic, I know it would lead back to Jimmy.

“Just working away. It’s been nice, having the change of pace,” I say, sitting back in my chair with a sigh. “How’s work been?”

“Went to Nobu with the girls from the editorial desk, and Cynthia in accounting is riding my ass about the cost for false eyelashes that I put on my expense report. I mean, it was for a beauty article. Fine, it was research for an article that probably won’t get written, but whatever.” She takes a slight pause and continues, “Oh, and I went to East Hampton this weekend. Drank champagne at some polo event on Sunday, got totally trashed, and took the Jitney home, completely hungover. Thank God for my Dior sunglasses that are so black yet chic because no one noticed my tired eyes or cared that I was wearing them in the office!”

“Sounds like a typical summer Monday morning at the office for you,” I tease.

“Girl, you used to party hard with the best of ’em. You know how it is. Rise and grind for work all day. Schmooze and network at night. That’s building your career in your twenties. Thank God there are thirty hours in a day here or else we’d never get any rest!”

I do know. And now that I’ve stopped, I wonder how I’ll be able to restart.

“I’m so glad they’re working with you,” she says. “I take it, we’ll see some small-town articles in the next issue?”

I let out a sharp laugh. “How’d you know?”

“Because you always write about what you know. I think it will be a good thing to throw into the mix.” I hear someone yell in the background. She groans. “I thought I’d be able to hide away for a second, but duty calls. We’ll chat soon?”

I smile, loving that she made time in her busy day as an account executive at the magazine to call me. “Absolutely. Thanks for calling.”

“Miss you.” She makes a blowing-kiss sound into the phone. “Bye.”

I say my good-bye and hang up the phone, setting it next to my computer with a sigh. It’s amazing how different my two worlds are. My life in New York and my life here seem universes apart.

Pulling up my metaphorical panties, I take a deep inhale and sit up straight, getting back to my writing when my phone goes off with a text from Tucker.

The past two days, I’ve gotten texts from him just saying hi and nothing much else, so I’m surprised when I read this one.

Can I talk you into joining me for lunch?

I pick up my phone, feeling my worries about New York float away for a brief moment and welcoming the reaction. Especially since he included a bunch of food emojis.

You do realize, you sent me an eggplant, donut, and cherries.

Matthew told me it was cool to send.

Your son just played you.

How bad?

He’s lucky it was me. Sending your eggplant to the wrong woman could send a very bad message.

I’m gonna kill that kid.