“Is the friend an ex-girlfriend? And the mother of his child?”

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “I’m not at liberty to discuss my client’s private affairs.”

“Especially the extramarital affairs?”

“Never mind that,” Ezra said. “I lived up to my end of the bargain. Does that mean you’ll have dinner with me tonight?”

“I guess it does,” Ivy said. “What time will you be done?”

“Santa’s shift ends at eight. Can you meet me there? I’ll be set up in Santaland on the square. We have an eight-thirty reservation at The Wine Cavern.”

“I’ll be there,” Ivy said. She leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Chapter 19

It was the best, most delicious shower Ivy had ever had, and she vowed that she would never again take hot water for granted. She was drying her hair when she glanced down at the phone on the bathroom sink and saw that she’d missed a call from Phoebe. Maybe, she thought, her friend was having second thoughts about her plan.

“Ivy? I need another favor. A big one. I’m supposed to be at the church in thirty minutes, but my car won’t start. I think the battery is dead. Can you give me a ride to the square?”

“Uh, yeah. I think I can get ready by then.”

“Great. I’ll text you my address. Hurry, okay? If I’m late I’ll be shunned by the entire Tarburton United Methodist Ladies Auxiliary.”

Ivy hustled into the bedroom, trying to decide what to wear. She’d seen the weather forecast: clear and cold. So, jeans, boots, sweater, jacket, since she’d be outside most of the evening. The red velvet Mrs. Santa dress was right where she’d tossed it the night before.

Should she? After all, with the layers of lining and heavy fabric, it should be plenty warm. And she had to agree with Phoebe, the outfit really did suit her. Most important, she thought Ezra would get a kick out of seeing her wearing it. She dug into her dresser and pulled out her thickest pair of tights. As she was buttoning the jacket and adjusting the fur collar, she felt a warm glow settle over her body.

The elf was standing, shivering, in front of the address of the apartment Phoebe had texted her from. She wore a formfitting red-and-green-striped tunic, a tall, red peaked cap, baggy yellow tights, and red booties that curled at the toes. She was holding a bulky white cardboard box.

Ivy rolled down the passenger side window. “Phoebe? Is that you?”

Her friend slid into the front seat. “Just drive, okay? I’ll explain on the way to church.”

“Gran made this ridiculous elf costume when my mom was my age. Mom used to wear it every year at the Christmas Stroll. It was a way to drum up business. People would come over and have their picture taken with her, and then they’d buy cookies and cocoa for the family. It’s the women’s auxiliary’s biggest fundraiser of the year and all the money they make goes to the church’s food pantry. Anyway, after having three kids and what she calls middle-aged spread, Mom hasn’t worn it in ages. But this year, since I’ve lost weight, Gran decided the elf costume should come out of retirement. And as my granddad used to say, arguing with Gran is like trying to fart into a tornado.”