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When Noelle arrived, neither Hannah nor Miriam was in the office. She settled into a chair, getting her thoughts together. For Hannah’s sake, she was going to be nice and try to put this animosity behind them. She heard their voices float through the open door, Miriam’s voice sending a shiver down Noelle’s spine, and she grimaced at herself.

They walked in together, and Noelle’s stomach gave a traitorous dip. All of her nerve endings became raw when Miriam was in the room. She didn’t like it. When Miriam’s inner lights were turned on, when she was present, she was sparkly and fascinating, and Noelle wanted to collect her like a raccoon collecting treasure. When her lights were off, when she went away from herself and seemed to almost leave her body, Noelle wanted to find out why and turn them back on. It annoyed her. She didn’t need attraction, and she didn’t do that kind of emotional connection. It was too risky, especially with an engaged woman.

Noelle leaned forward, her elbows on her spread knees and her hands clasped, bracing herself. Hannah sat behind her desk, her bookshelves at her back making a throne. When Noelle took a breath to speak, Hannah held up her hand.

“You have said enough, missy,” her best friend told her. Oof. She’d told Hannah about her fight with Miriam. She’d tried to be honest about her own part, because it was important to her sobriety, and Hannah had told her she was being an asshole. Moving Hannah from being steadfastly Team Noelle was hard, but this had accomplished it.

“I’m going to talk,” Hannah said, “and you’re both going to listen. When I’m done, you are going to figure out a way to work together until Thanksgiving, because you’re making it impossible for me to do my job.”

“But, Hannah—” Miriam started.

Hannah stopped her.

“Miri, Noelle said some untrue, unkind things about you, and she had no right to. I won’t make excuses for her, but we were having the worst week of all our lives. You may not be able to forgive her, but maybe you can understand we’re all low on grace at this point?” Hannah asked Miriam gently.

Miriam just looked defiant.

“We can’t build a new vision for Carrigan’s together if she bites my head off every time we’re in the same room,” Miriam said, an edge to her voice.

“Noelle, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Hannah asked.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t trust her, and I’m not thrilled about being on the Save Christmasland group project with her.”

Hannah groaned. “You’re not helping, Noelle.”

Noelle shrugged. Damn. She’d meant to be conciliatory when she came in the room, and then she’d gotten her hackles up, again, like she always did when she had to look at Miriam’s face. Noelle should just let her pretend she was helping. There was no way in hell this woman was going to make it all the way through the opening of the Christmas season. She would quit within the week.

They did need a plan for the bank, though, and they were wasting time catering to Miriam’s whim to play homecoming.

“Tell me one thing that would make me think you’re ready to come up with the kind of plan we need, and then execute it,” Noelle said to Miriam. “No, not even that. Tell me one time you’ve shown up when someone needed you. Give me one good example.” She sat back, feeling sure Miriam couldn’t.

“The Old Ladies,” Miriam said smugly, and Hannah laughed in delight. Noelle scowled. She was missing something.

“Miriam has this national network of little old ladies—and men, I assume—who own antique shops,” Hannah explained. “She buys from them, but she’s also sort of their surrogate daughter, checking in on them, making sure they’re doing okay and not isolating, that sort of thing. She’s like the social coordinator for a vast underground web of junk collectors.”

“Not just their social coordinator,” Miriam said. “I’m the person who schedules their doctors, sets up their meal trains when they get hurt, sometimes I’m their power of attorney.” She fluttered her eyelashes, her voice syrupy. “I’m happy to give you all their numbers, if you want to call for references.”

Noelle stared. That was the first weighty thing anyone had told her about Miriam Blum. “Why would you do that?” she asked.

Miriam waved dismissively. “You know how it is; your dad is an abusive monster and your mom is an emotionally unavailable ice cube, you find parents wherever you can!” she said, her voice a little too bright.

Noelle did not, in fact, know. Her parents had been complicated, but not monsters. Noelle wondered again exactly how bad Miriam’s childhood had been, and how that had led to her running away from Carrigan’s. Not that it was any of Noelle’s business, because she wasn’t trying to figure this woman out. She’d lost her best argument for why Miriam shouldn’t be here, and Hannah was trying to murder her with only her eyeballs, so Noelle gave up.

“Fine. You win. Operation Save Carrigan’s, welcome aboard,” Noelle ground out. “You’d better not fuck it up.”

“In order to make this work, you will be civil,” Hannah said with an iron voice. “You will not avoid each other, and you will not make everyone else’s lives miserable. We have to find a solution, or Noelle and I will be out on our asses. That means you play nice. Are we all agreed?”

They both nodded. Noelle assumed they would shake on it, but Hannah typed out the agreement, then printed it and made them sign it. She then insisted they follow her to the second-floor lounge, where she tacked it to the wall and hung one of Miriam’s ugly plaid bows over it, for emphasis.

“Great,” she said, standing back from the bow and admiring her handiwork. “Now that y’all have gotten on your adulting pants, we’re going to cement our new agreement with a Bonding Activity.”

“Halloween is tomorrow,” Miriam reminded her, slumping onto the sectional, “which means Opening Day is in two days. Don’t we have to, I don’t know, open up the festival, cut a ribbon, start welcoming tourists? There must be a million last-minute details.”

“Please, as if all that hasn’t been planned for months. You must know I can multitask better than the average person can task.” Hannah held up her clipboard, as if in proof. “You decorated, Noelle cut trees, I organized seasonal workers. We have time for forced bonding.”

She produced sheet masks from under an end table, and Noelle complained that hers was tingly.

“Shut up and mask, Noelle,” Hannah said. More seriously, she added, “Be nice to my cousin or I will personally harm you. This animosity is unacceptable.”