to her family.
"Yes Annette, this is Molly," Molly answered. She felt a little confused, why was this woman calling her while she was on the show?
"Molly, where are the Boughmans going?" Annette asked, and Molly's jaw went a little slack. It was not really her place to announce on television that Mrs. Boughman was sick. Maybe not everyone knew already. "Are they moving in with their son? You know, he lives in Florida, and he is a doctor. If only he had not moved away, Molly, he would be such a catch for you-"
"Thank you Mrs. Gunderson," Bridget interrupted to Molly's complete relief. Molly knew she loved drama and excitement, but Bridget also was of the opinion that she was a serious journalist. "Mrs. Gunderson, if I could just have you call the Boughmans. Do you have their number dear?"
"No I don't. I put everything in this cell phone, and then my terrier drug it out to the lake and dumped it in!"
"Okay, please hold Mrs. Gunderson, and I will transfer you to their house then," Bridget said in a patient voice. Molly felt her face reddening. If people had not been paying attention to the report before, they were bound to be paying attention now.
The phone was ringing again already, and Molly noticed two red lights this time. "Two calls?"
"Yep," Bridget smiled widely again and answered. But one was the post office clerk reminding people of their new hours of operation, and the other was a prank call. "Well, yes, we have retrieved the running refrigerator."
Molly had to hand it to Bridget. It must be difficult having huge dreams in a town this tiny.
The phone was silent for a moment, then lit up again. Molly cringed, hoping it would actually be a volunteer this time.
"Mols! I've been calling you for like a half hour, we are out of soap in the bathroom," Rachel's voice flooded into the ear piece. Bridget hung up immediately.
"Down below is the number to Molly's shop if you'd like to call and volunteer. Remember, all profits from Santa’s Workshop go to local charities." Bridget changed her expression to a somber one as she talked about a few of the charities, then pleaded one more time for a Santa volunteer. Molly sat with a smile plastered on her face, looking deadpan into the camera.
"And we're at commercial!" The man at the back of the room yelled.
Chapter Nine
Jack turned the television off as the camera panned away from Molly and Bridget. He turned back to the permit paperwork, pen in hand. His friend on city council told him they would rush the paperwork as long as he had it in first thing Monday morning. Because of that, he was ignoring his customers. Luckily, his only customers at the moment were Brian, Rachel, and Eli.
"Well, if sympathy doesn't get her a Mr. Claus," Brian fidgeted with his collar. "I don't know what will."
"Be nice," Rachel said swatting Brian's arm.
"No, it's not that, it's just wow," Brian trailed. Jack did his best to pretend like he did not care about Molly's doomed news interview.
"I know what you mean," Eli piped in as he walked around the bar. Jack moved down a few feet as Eli helped himself to the tap. "I felt awkward like it was me up there."
"She didn’t do that bad, and besides," Rachel said tapping her finger on the form in front of Jack. "She's hot, and I think a lot of guys will be calling to work with her."
"Aren't you working right now?" Jack sensed Rachel was trying to get under his skin about Molly. Rachel shrugged.
"I can see the front door, no one's over there right now," she took a sip of hot cider. It was Black Friday, and the slowest day of the year for Main Street. Rachel tugged gently at a lock of Jack's hair. "So why don't you volunteer to be Santa Claus Jack? You'd be great at it."
Jack shook his head, refusing to answer the woman. He had never told Rachel he still carried a torch for Molly, but damn if that woman did not figure it out on her own and bring Molly up constantly. Jack was not even on Molly's radar.
"I don't like kids," Jack lied. He
Learning to Kill: Stories