Page 16 of Holiday Crush

Okay, that wasn’t the spirit I was looking for, but I’d take it. “Awesome! This is going to be fun!”

Court lifted a brow. “If you say so. This is volunteering, right?”

“Well…sure.”

“Okay, then what do you want me to do?”

“You can either call the numbers like you just did or…you can run around checking the winners’ cards, provide new cards, and make sure Kathy and Faith aren’t giving away the whole damn table.”

“Those are terrible choices.”

“Sorry. That’s all I have.” I hiked my thumb toward the women hooting with laughter at the prize table. “That’s their domain and if I somehow convinced them to switch things up, we’d be here till midnight. That’s not an exaggeration. It’s happened.”

“Uh, okay. I guess I’ll do numbers,” he replied as if the job description required him to swallow a shot of broken glass.

“Fabulous. I’ll do the welcome bit and introduce you once everyone is seated.”

“Sounds easy. All I’m doing is reading numbers out loud, right?”

I nodded and gave my best jazz hands. “With pizzazz!”

Court scowled. “I don’t do pizzazz.”

“You can do it! I believe in you.” I squeezed his elbow reassuringly and picked up the mic to address the hall. “Welcome to another fantastic Friday, people! Do we have any Bingo lovers here tonight?”

The crowd went wild.

Okay…no. I got a single “woot woot” and a weak round of applause from the forty-or-so attendees.

“We love you, Ivan!” Mrs. Yeager, my fifth-grade teacher, yelled.

“Thanks. Hey, I have exciting news! Court Henderson is here for a visit, and he’s graciously agreed to help run things up front tonight. Show him some love, Elmwood!”

This time, the crowd did go wild. Raucous cheers and a few wolf whistles echoed off the walls.Nice.

I handed the mic over to Court, who seemed more freaked out than pumped up by the enthusiastic welcome.

“What do I say?” he whispered, his gaze flitting over the row of tables.

“Hello,” I suggested. “And…let’s party, or something like that.”

Court licked his lips, his Adam’s apple sliding in his throat as he took the mic and brought it too close to his mouth. “Hello, let’s party.”

The speakers screeched a horrible high-pitched noise that with any luck blocked out his monotone delivery.

I adjusted the mic and hissed, “Pizzazz, Court. Gimme pizzazz.”

“I told you I—”

“Shh. Just…follow my lead.” I smiled at the crowd and held up a Bingo card. “Who’s ready? Okay, let’s go. First up, I-22…”

I called out a dozen numbers before tentatively handing him the mic again.

Court took over and…okay, he was wooden and unsure. He kept his head low, which muffled his voice and made it difficult to hear him. I pantomimed “chin up, speak up” as unobtrusively as possible. I didn’t want to discourage him, but I also didn’t understand why this big hunk of handsome sportiness was so tightly wound.

I remembered him being outgoing when we were younger. He’d done pizzazz Bingo very well at age thirteen. In fact, he’d been a ham.

“B-12,” he read.