How to Solve a Murder with a Grinch

One tinsel-hating lawyer.
One holiday-loving decorator.
One murder to solve before Christmas.

Harris
I despise Christmas.
Standing in my law firm's lobby—now transformed into what can only be described as the North Pole after a glitter bomb detonation—I watch my colleagues succumb to holiday hysteria. Partners in suits are constructing gingerbread houses. My father is wearing reindeer antlers.
Then I spot her—Ivy Larkson—the mastermind behind this festive nightmare, directing the chaos with a candy cane baton and a smile that's entirely too bright. When I confront her about turning Wheeler Law into a kindergarten classroom, she has the audacity to suggest I need more "Christmas spirit."
Two more weeks of this? Not happening.
I've already booked my getaway.
No more tinsel. No more carols. And definitely no more Ivy Larkson with those green eyes that somehow make me feel like I’m the villain in a holiday movie.

Ivy
I live for Christmas magic - the twinkling lights, the smell of pine, and the way people's faces light up when they walk into a perfectly decorated party.
At least, that's how it usually goes.
But tonight, Mr. Holiday-Hater Harris Wheeler just called my winter wonderland a horror version of Santa’s Workshop. Then he threatened to fire me.
Me, the girl who's been helping her mom decorate his family's law firm parties since I was teenager with a crush on him. No more! I can't stand him.
And I can't wait to hide out at my best friend’s cottage in Lakewood, drowning my sorrows in peppermint hot chocolate and trying to figure out how to tell Mom we might lose our biggest client. What I won't bring is thoughts of Harris Wheeler's impossibly handsome scowl or the way my teenage heart used to flutter around him.
I refuse to let one Grinch steal my Christmas spirit.

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