I could’ve had Ashley six months ago if I’d wanted to. And even if that weren’t the case, it’s not as if I’ve never been rejected before. Usually, if the woman I’m interested in isn’t available for one reason or another, I move on. No biggie. I’m not the kind of guy who stresses over things I can’t control. I keep moving forward.
“So, Neil. Is this what you do for a living? Fix fridges?” I put a knife in the cutlery holder with a little more gusto than necessary.
Ashley’s head whips in my direction, giving me a look likeWhy are you being so rude?
Neil sizes me up, then glances between Ashley and me. One corner of his mouth lifts the smallest amount, and he meets my gaze, male challenge shining through.
He thinks I’m competing with him? He doesn’t have this situation figured out. I’m not jealous. I already had my shot with Ashley, and I wasn’t interested—end of story.
“Nah, I’m just doing my mom and Ashley a solid. I’m the owner of the largest custom home builder in the state.” He puffs his chest out with pride.
It was a shitty thing for me to say. Neither of my parents had big, important jobs, and they gave my siblings and me a good life. Now I feel like a dick.
“Impressive, good for you.” I turn my attention back to cleaning up the kitchen, appropriately chastised.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and the buzzing continues, and continues, and continues. Given the frequency of the messages, it must be from my family group chat. I wipe off the counter and the dining room table, then say to Ashley, “I’ll meet you in your office when you’re done. Good to meet you, Neil.”
“Same,” he hollers from behind the fridge.
I go up to my room to grab my laptop, figuring I’ll check in on work while I’m waiting in Ashley’s office.
It’s a cozy, welcoming space with wood bookcases and a matching desk at the far end of the room. A large window behind her desk looks out over the front yard and the strategically placed evergreens. Snow hangs heavy on their branches, and the sun reflects off it, causing me to squint when I look outside.
Once I’m seated on the sofa, I pull my phone from my pocket to see what’s going on with the Russell clan.
Mom: Carter - I’m starting to plan the festivities for Christmas and want to know when you’re arriving.
Brynn: You mean you’re not bringing some random girl to spend Christmas with us this year?
Go figure, my little sister starts in with her snarky comments.
Tre: Has hell frozen over?
And there’s my older brother chiming in with his shit.
Brynn: More likely, there’s no one left in Manhattan for him to choose from.
Tre: Hey, he’s in Vermont now.
Brynn: Fresh new hunting ground.
Mom: Cut it out you two. I’m just trying to see how many people to cook for.
Dad: Carter, answer your mother so this constant dinging on my phone will stop.
Tre: Put it on silent like I’ve shown you a hundred times.
I shake my head and chuckle while I type out my reply.
Sorry to disappoint, just me this year.
And Brynn, there are still a few women in Brooklyn I haven’t dated. ;)
My family’s comments don’t annoy me—they’re right. I normally have a different woman with me every year at Christmas. But unlike in years past, I haven’t been eager to move on to the next one since my last breakup.
Most people only see an easygoing, charming playboy when they look at me. But I’ve got more layers. No one has ever bothered to look deep enough. Sometimes I think my family believes I’m the superficial one, but I’m starting to think I’m picking the wrong women.
After I send my message, I put my phone on silent, determined to finish some work so I can start on whatever Steph and Doug need checked off their list.
