Page 57 of No Room in the Inn

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Page 57 of No Room in the Inn

“You know,” I say, taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly. “I think I’m going to turn it over to Nixon.”

Sarah looks at me. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I say, and I realize it’s true. “I am. I’ll call Mr. Lawyer Man and have him draw up whatever paperwork that will require.”

I step out of the kitchen and make the call, feeling oddly energized. I end up having to leave a message, but that’s fine; I just tell the lawyer that I need to discuss transferring ownership of the inn and ask him to call me back. I’m filled with a sense of peace after I hang up; that’s one less thing I have to worry about. Still, I’ll wait to tell Nixon about it until I’ve got the paperwork figured out.

I eat with Sarah and Flora, and after dinner I head back home. There’s not a ton of time before Nixon and I have to leave for Gerty’s party; we’ll meet Sarah there.

“Nixon?” I call when I get inside. I pull my coat off as I make my way to the kitchen, draping it over a chair. I turn around when I hear Nixon enter.

“I have a question,” he says. His hands are clasped behind his back, and he saunters somewhat playfully toward me.

“I possibly have an answer,” I say.

He nods. “Are you going to wear the Mrs. Claus dress to this party?”

“Why?” I retort. “Doyouwant to wear it?”

He grins. “No. I just want to be prepared for all your festive splendor.”

I give an unflattering snort of laughter. “It sounds an awful lot like you’re flirting with me.”

Nixon shakes his head and makes a littletsking sound. “Impossible. I can’t stand you.”

“Hmm,” I say slowly, tilting my head and pretending to consider his words. “Well, as a matter of fact, I am wearing it.”

His grin widens. “Good. Go get dressed. We need to leave.”

“I still don’t know why we have to go,” I grumble.

“Because Gerty Nixon is very nice—”

“She’s going to try to set me up with another convict,” I say.

“And she invited us specifically,” he says as though I haven’t spoken. “Come on; parties are fun! Go get dressed.”

“Meh,” I say, but I do as he says.

It only takes me a few minutes to get dressed, and this time I’m able to get the zipper. I reappear in the kitchen ready to leave.

Nixon looks up from his phone, and when his eyes fall on me, he exhales slowly. His gaze travels the length of me, and he shakes his head slowly, a reluctant smile tugging at his full lips.

“My eyes are up here,” I say, pointing, but there’s no real irritation behind my words. His thorough perusal makes my pulse skitter.

“I’ll get to them in a minute,” he murmurs as his eyes linger on my legs.

I cross my arms over my chest and start tapping one foot impatiently. Nixon’s gaze finally drifts back to mine, and though he’s grinning, I’m surprised to see that he looks a little embarrassed, too. He rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head again.

“I have to admit, you are…” He trails off as his eyes sweep over me again before he looks away, clearing his throat. “Very attractive,” he says.

“Thank you,” I say, feeling suddenly shy.

Nixon clears his throat again and gestures at me. “Do you need help with the zipper?”

“No, I got it,” I say.

“Pity,” he says, so softly I almost don’t hear him. He steps closer to me, and my pulse picks up its pace. I try to tell my heart to calm down, to tell it that we are not romantically interested in this man, but it ignores me and beats even faster.