Single and Ready to Jingle, page 1
Single and Ready to Jingle
Piper Rayne
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© 2022 by Piper Rayne
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Cover Design: By Hang Le
1st Line Editor: Joy Editing
2nd Line Editor: My Brother’s Editor
Proofreader: My Brother’s Editor
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
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* * *
About Single and Ready to Jingle
The girl who loves Christmas falls for the Grinch—it’s a Christmas miracle.
* * *
What started as a dumpster fire of a blind date turns into a deal.
* * *
In truth, it probably didn’t help that I showed up dressed like an elf but that’s a story for another time. Our start was rocky at best which is why it’s so frustrating that I can’t stop thinking about his sexy British accent. Or the way his chest and arms fill out his suit. Or his perfect hair with that single streak of grey at the front.
* * *
Santa likes lists and so do I, so here’s all the reasons why Andrew and I aren’t right for each other:
* * *
He’s my brother’s best friend
He’s the biggest grump I’ve ever met.
He hates Christmas.
* * *
That last one is big for a girl like me who thinks that the entire month of December should be a national holiday. So, when he calls for my help in planning his firm’s holiday party, I can’t pass up the opportunity to grow my small business. Bonus, we make a deal, and he agrees to attend three holiday events with me so I can make him fall in love with Christmas. As if I’d pass up an opportunity to make a Grinch’s heart grow three times its size.
* * *
It isn’t long until I discover Andrew has a very real reason to hate Christmas and I start to see him in a different light. That’s when the Christmas miracle begins.
Chapter One
Kenzie
Not much draws the gaze of a New Yorker. Except maybe a twenty-eight-year-old woman running down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan while wearing red-and-white-striped tights, elf ears, and curved green shoes with hanging bells.
I rush past the gawking men and women clutching their shopping bags that contain items that cost more than my monthly rent.
“Damn it,” I mumble, stopping at a red light, sounding like a Christmas carol as I jog in place. I’m going to be late and there’s nothing I hate more than disrespecting another person’s time. It’s just plain rude.
As soon as the cars clear the intersection, before the little walking man pedestrian signal lights up, I step off the curb. If you ever want to tell the difference between a tourist and a born and bred New Yorker, wait to see when they cross the street. A real Manhattanite believes that pedestrian signals are merely suggestions, not rule of law.
I run down the sidewalk, my blonde braids bouncing with every step, the bells hanging from my toes and skirt ringing the entire way.
I love Christmas.
Like, love love Christmas.
Most Americans wait until after Thanksgiving to put up their Christmas decorations, but not me. Mine go up the day after Halloween.
At the next light, I pull my phone from my purse to see how close I am to the restaurant my date chose for tonight. I’m only a few blocks away.
IOBJECT and I met on the Blind Dating app. The idea behind the app is that you converse with people and get to know them without seeing a picture of them. Everyone is vetted thoroughly before they can join the app, and because it isn’t free, it keeps out a lot of the creeps. In fact, I pay a premium to have no idea who I’m going out with, which sounds kind of crazy because I’m not exactly swimming in money, but if you had my same history when it comes to dating you would too.
Safety is paramount though. When you confirm to meet in person, you have to load all the details into the app—when, where, with what user, etc. I guess that way if my body shows up in the Hudson, the police will know who to question first.
No, I haven’t found a love match yet, but I’ve been on some decent dates with some okay guys. All the other apps seem to be full of guys looking only for hookups, misogynists, or men with foot fetishes. If I never have to see an unsolicited dick pic again in my life, that premium is worth it.
Dating in New York City is its own version of Dante’s Nine Circles of Hell, so I decided the new app was worth giving a try. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll go on more bad dates? Been there, done that, have the therapist bill to prove it.
All I know about IOBJECT is that he’s thirty-four, enjoys watching football, and he’s a lawyer. I’m trying not to hold the lawyer thing against him since my older brother is also a lawyer. We’ve chatted a few times on the app, and even though I don’t think we’ve really connected in a big way, he asked me out and I figured why not give it a try. At the very least, I might score a free meal with some interesting conversation.
I didn’t plan on showing up dressed as an elf though, but hey, it’s a great icebreaker. If he’s the guy for me, he’ll see the humor in the fact that I forgot my change of clothes at home this morning, and because work ran late, I didn’t have time to take the subway all the way downtown to grab presentable attire before our date.
I turn off Fifth Avenue onto Fifty-Second, spotting the restaurant sign. I slow to a fast walk, hoping some of the sweat that’s causing my costume to stick to my skin will dissipate.
A man and woman are leaving the restaurant as I arrive, and he holds the door open for me while the woman openly cranes her neck to watch me. My gaze roams the expensive restaurant and I realize I may have made a mistake in choosing not to be late over going home and changing.
The couple waiting to be seated turns to look at me.
“Have a candy cane.” I dig a few out of my pockets and hand them to them. “Remember, Santa’s always watching.”
Rather than cowering, I raise my chin to project confidence, as if it’s not weird to be dressed as one of Santa’s helpers in a five-star restaurant.
The hostess gives me a tight-lipped smile. “We don’t allow singing telegrams here,” she leans forward and whispers, her platinum-blonde hair slipping from behind her ears.
“Oh no. I’m meeting someone. The reservation is under the name Marshall.”
Marshall was a pet hamster I had growing up and the name I told IOBJECT to put the reservation under.
She doesn’t say a word as she looks from me to the tablet in her hands. “Your party has already arrived. Follow me.”
“Thank you.”
She turns and walks farther into the restaurant, weaving through tables. The bells hanging off me sound obnoxious in the subdued space. Out on the streets of Manhattan, they didn’t seem so loud, but there’s nothing I can do about them now. I’m here, and we’ll make the best of it. If anything, it’s a cute story if things turn out good with IOBJECT.
She leads me to a table for two. It’s hard to mistake the horror in my date’s eyes as I approach the table.
He’s handsome, dressed in an expensive navy suit with a red tie. His square jaw is covered with a short beard that matches his light-brown hair, which has a copper sheen to it. The most interesting thing about his hair is the inch-wide streak of gray at the front on his left side. It’s unique and different.
“Here you are,” the hostess says and gestures.
IOBJECT slides out of his chair to stand. Well, good start. At least he’s a gentleman.
“Hi, I’m RAINBOWRIDER.” I wave a little shyly as his bluish-gray eyes take me in from head to toe.
It’s not in the sexual way one would hope on a first date. More in a questioning way, as if asking, “Are you really wearing an elf costume?”
I’ll just have to win him over with my charming personality.
Chapter Two
Andrew
It’s already been a shit day.
First, my sole competitor for partnership at the law firm won his case and is being lauded as the next Johnnie Cochran, regardless of the fact that the case was a slam dunk from the beginning. The defense’s staggering ineptitude practically handed him the victory.
Second, my daft assistant entered the wrong time in my calendar, so when my biggest client showed up, I was unprepared.
And third, my blind date just arrived… dressed like an elf. I’m not clear on if she actually thinks of herself as an elf or maybe there’s a weird Christmas role-playing underbelly within the city that I’m unaware of.
Doesn’t matter. This is definitely not a match.
The only question is, how soon can I get this date to end?
“Hi, I’m RAINBOWRIDER.” She smiles as though nothing is amiss.
I suppose there’s not much to be done now, except suffer through dinner and get out of here as soon as humanly possible.
“Good to meet you.” I nod and take my seat.
She pulls out her chair and sits, sounding like a goddamn chorus of bells. The diners nearby all glance over, and my hand clenches the armrest of the chair. Lord, please, if you’re taking requests, please do not let anyone I know see me with an absolute barmy woman.
“Oh, you’re Scottish,” she says with a big smile.
“English, actually.”
She chuckles. “Sorry. Where in England are you from?”
A tight smile forms on my lips as I decide whether I should take the time to educate her that English and Scottish people sound nothing alike. I figure that will only prolong our time together. “I’m from London.”
“Oh, very posh,” she says in a terrible version of my accent.
I draw a breath. Luckily, the server arrives to take our drink order. I, however, decide to order my meal at the same time to shorten this complete waste of my evening. There are a million more beneficial things I could be doing with my time than dining with an elf.
“I’ll have two fingers of your best scotch please, and the salmon dish for my entrée.”
“Absolutely, sir. And for you?” The waitress turns to my date, and it’s clear she’s doing her best to keep her gaze focused on my date’s face and not let it drift down to her ridiculous outfit.
“Oh, I didn’t realize we were ordering right away. Okay…” She peruses the menu quickly and looks back at the waitress with a bright smile. “I’ll have a glass of your house white with the filet mignon.”
“And how would you like it cooked?”
“Medium well, please.”
The waitress nods and takes our menus. “I’ll be back in a minute with your drinks.”
I nod and turn my attention back across the table. “Why did you order white wine?”
She appears perplexed, so I help her out.
“Red wine pairs with red meat, not white.”
Her bright smile finally falters. “Oh well, I don’t really like red, so white it is.”
“But wouldn’t you prefer a drink that enhances the flavor of your meal, not tarnishes it?”
She looks at me as though she doesn’t know how to answer, so I shake my head.
“Never mind. Care to explain the outfit?”
I have to know whether I am in fact dealing with a crazy person or not.
Her cheeks pinken and she bites her plump bottom lip. “I’m an event planner and I had a gig today for holiday photos and I thought it would be fun to dress as an elf. The kids loved it! But I forgot my change of clothes at home, so I didn’t have time to get all the way back there, change, and then be on time for our date.”
“So, you thought it best to show up wearing that?” I motion with my hand across the table.
“Hey, I’m single and ready to jingle.” She wiggles in her seat, making the bells ring. Once again, the majority of the diners look in our direction.
Lord, what have I done to deserve such torture?
When I don’t laugh with her, her face falls and a foreign feeling of guilt worms its way through my veins.
“I didn’t want to be late or make you wait.” The sincerity in her voice surprises me.
Still, I cannot sit here and suffer through a date with a woman who shows up, presumably to attract a grown man, dressed as a fictional character. If anyone I know sees me, I’ll never live it down. God knows I’ve been embarrassed enough for one lifetime.
I open my mouth to politely tell her that while it’s been nice meeting her, I don’t think we’re a match and I’m going to leave, but she speaks first.
“We haven’t even properly introduced ourselves yet. I’m Kenzie Montgomery.” She holds her hand out across the table.
I roll the familiar name over in my head a few times, trying to sort out where I’ve heard it before but come up empty. I take her small hand in mine and shake it. “Andrew Wainwright.”
Her hand stills in mine. “Wait. Andrew? Wainwright? Did you by chance go to Columbia Law School?”
I drop her hand, and my forehead wrinkles.
The waitress returns and sets our drinks on the table. “Your meal shouldn’t be too long.”
I thank her before returning my attention to Kenzie, who is staring at me with wide eyes.
“I attended Columbia Law School, yes.”
I’m almost positive we can’t share any acquaintances or friends. I’m sure I’d remember hooking up with her. There’s no elf makeup blocking her face. After Moira, there were certainly some drunken nights, but none in which I partook in losing myself in another woman. Besides, this woman would have had to be in London at the time and she doesn’t exactly strike me as a worldly person. By the time I came to New York, I had my sights set on excelling in my career, so I know for certain I haven’t been with her in the decade plus since.
“You know my brother, Finn Montgomery.”
My stomach sinks. I don’t only know her brother. He’s my best mate.
“You’re Finn’s little sister?” My mouth is agape as I try to make sense of this. “I thought his sister’s name was—”
She grins. “He’s the only one who calls me Mac. Everyone else calls me Kenzie, but my given name is MacKenzie.”
Kenzie looks as if it’s a delightful situation we’ve found ourselves in.
I, however, realize two things.
First, ditching dinner is no longer an option and I’ll be forced to endure the shame of dining with a full-grown elf woman. Second, the fact she’s Finn’s sister gives me the perfect out without having to make an excuse for why we’re not a match.
Because if anything ever happened between Kenzie and me, Finn would murder me.
Chapter Three
Kenzie
I can’t believe Andrew Wainwright is sitting across from me.
“Well, it truly is a small world then, isn’t it?” His smile strains and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s uncomfortable knowing I’m Finn’s sister or not.
I mean, he hasn’t exactly appeared to be super into the date so far. In fact, he’s been kind of a jerk. I get the elf costume, but a nice person would have tried to make me feel as if it wasn’t that big of a deal, whereas he’s making me feel like a loser.
Regardless of his coolness, this is my brother’s best friend. So while it’s obvious there’s no romantic match, we can still salvage a nice dinner.
