CHAPTER ONE
NADIA
The frozen highways of British Columbia are not where I expected to spend the week before Valentine's Day, but here I am, white knuckling the steering wheel of my rental SUV while my sister's voice chirps through the Bluetooth like she hasn't just ruined my entire month.
"Nadia, are you even listening to me?"
I am absolutely not listening to her. I'm too busy trying not to die on this winding mountain road while mentally calculating how much of my emergency fund I just blew on last minute flights and this overpriced rental.
"I'm listening, Yasmine." I ease off the gas as another curve appears through the snow flurries. "You said the wedding is Saturday. Valentine's Day. In a town called Crimson Hollow that apparently doesn't believe in proper highway maintenance."
"The roads are fine. You're being dramatic."
Easy for her to say. She's been holed up in this mountain paradise for three months planning her dream wedding while I've been grinding seventy hour weeks at a Chicago marketing firm that just laid off half my department. Including me. Three days ago.
Which Yasmine doesn't know about yet.
"The point is," she continues, her voice taking on that particular tone that means she's about to ask for something unreasonable, "everyone is bringing someone. Mom's bringing Gerald. Dad's bringing his girlfriend. Even Aunt Patricia has a date, and she's been single since 1987."
"Good for Aunt Patricia."
"Nadia."
I sigh, navigating around a patch of ice that appears out of nowhere. The GPS claims I'm forty minutes from Crimson Hollow, but I'm pretty sure this thing was calibrated by someone who's never driven in actual winter conditions.
"What do you want me to say, Yas? I don't have a boyfriend. I've been too busy working to date anyone seriously in the past year." Too busy working at a job that no longer exists, but whatever. "I'll be fine sitting at the singles table with the other lonely hearts."
"There is no singles table. That's the problem." Yasmine's voice pitches higher. "I specifically designed the seating chart so everyone would be paired up. It's a Valentine's wedding, Nadia. The whole theme is love and partnership and you showing up alone throws off my entire aesthetic."
Of course it does. Because my baby sister has always been the one with the vision boards and the perfectly curated Instagram and the fiancé who looks like he stepped out of a cologne advertisement. Meanwhile, I'm the older sister who was supposed to have her life together by thirty two but instead just got escorted out of her office building with a cardboard box and a pamphlet about filing for unemployment.
"I'm sorry my relationship status is inconvenient for your aesthetic."
"Don't be like that." She huffs. "I'm just saying, if you happened to meet someone between now and Saturday, thatwould be ideal. Or if you wanted to bring a friend. Or hire someone. I don't care. I just need you to have a plus one."
"Hire someone?" I laugh, but it comes out bitter. "Right. Because that's a totally normal thing to do."
"People do it all the time. There are apps for it."
"I'm not downloading a rent a date app, Yasmine."
"Fine. Then figure something else out. I have to go, the florist is calling. Love you, see you tomorrow."
She hangs up before I can respond, which is classic Yasmine. My phone immediately buzzes with a text.
Yasmine
Also Mom is asking questions about your job. Says they’re on the news about downsizing. I assured her you're just taking some time off. So, you're welcome.
I groan and toss my phone into the cupholder. Of course Mom is asking questions. And of course Yasmine covered for me without even knowing the full story, because that's what we do in the Smith family. We protect each other's images even when everything is falling apart underneath.
The snow picks up as I climb higher into the mountains, and I force myself to focus on the road instead of spiraling about my currently disastrous life. Unemployed. Single. About to spend the most romantic holiday of the year watching my perfect sister marry her perfect man while my mother side eyes me about my biological clock and my father pretends we're still close even though I've barely spoken to him since he left.
Happy Valentine's Day to me.
The sign for Crimson Hollow appears through the snow like a hallucination. Welcome to Crimson Hollow, Population 2,500, Where Love Finds a Way.
"How ominous," I mutter, slowing as the highway narrows into what I assume passes for a main street in a town this size.
