When I step back into the living room, Sienna’s perched on the couch, scrolling on her phone.
“You didn’t dress up,” I pout.
She smooths her tight black dress, the elf costume she bought nowhere in sight.
“I’m going to put on the ears. Promise.” She smirks. “I just don’t want Mikel to think I’m a total nerd for dressing up.”
She doesn’t mean it to hurt but it still stings. It’s a reminder of all the ways I’ll never be Sienna. Never that effortlessly cool with that sharp and stylish vibe with just the right amount of aloofness. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe I’m not supposed to be like her. Still, it’s a hard truth to swallow, knowing I’ll always be a little softer around the edges and a little less seen. Less in general, really.
But then again, for someone who walks through life like she’s walking a Paris runway, Sienna sure seems to love my little parties. She always stays, even when she could go to a more popular party on campus. Funny how someone so polished keeps coming back to something so…me.
“Yeah. Sure. I get it.” I smile anyway, because that’s what dolls do.
I move to the kitchen and pull a six-pack of beer from the fridge, setting them on the counter.
“Did your dad say why he wanted you to come home?”
Sienna grabs a can, popping it open with a sharp hiss. “No, but I’m sure it’s because I wasn’t there for Thanksgiving. He’s always been big on holidays, especially since Mom died.”
Sienna’s mom passed away from cancer when she was six. She doesn’t remember much about her, just how heavy her dad’s grief was after and how it filled every room they lived in. I understand grief—too well, probably. I’ve carried more of it than most people my age ever should.
“Of course,” she adds, taking a sip, “it could also have something to do with his job.”
“Oh?” I grab the bowl of Chex Mix and carry it to the table. “What did you say he did again?”
As always, she gives the same vague answer. “He’s the CEO of his company.”
I hum under my breath, reaching for the veggie tray. “Right. The mysterious CEO.”
I havethoughtsabout what Mr. Conti does for a living. Too many, probably. Every vague answer feeds the fire in my head.
Escaped convict.
Arms dealer.
Mafia boss.
The list grows more dramatic and unhinged every time I let my mind wander. If Sienna could hear half the scenarios I’ve come up with, she’d stage an intervention.
But maybe the truth is far simpler. Maybe he reallyisjust a CEO—one of those ruthlessly efficient, old-money types who’s used to the whole world jumping when he snaps his fingers. That possibility should comfort me but it doesn’t because that would make him an entitled jerk.
What stings the most is that Sienna won’t tell me. She knows I’m spiraling. She knows my imagination turns shadows into monsters, and she still won’t trust me with the truth. And I keep thinking… She knows what my dad did before he died. She knows I’ve seen darkness up close. She knows I can handle ugly truth better than pretty lies.
So why won’t she tell me what Mr. Conti really is? And why does it feel like she’s trying to protect me… or hide me from something I should already be afraid of?
“It’s not like that,” she says with a laugh, dismissing my spiraling theories with a flick of her hand. “He’s just private. Anyway, do you think Rachel’s going to come tonight?”
She pivots so fast it almost gives me whiplash.
And because I’m the kind of friend who doesn’t push—who lets people keep their secrets even when they burn holes in the space between us—I let her change the subject. Even if the uneasy knot in my stomach whispers that nothing about Mr. Conti is everthatsimple.
I swallow down the hundred questions rising in my throat, force a smile, and say, “Why would Mikel’s ex show up to a party where his new girlfriend’s going to be? No, I don’t think she’ll be there.”
“I hope not.” Her grin turns sly. “Oh! Did I tell you I asked him to bring a friend for you?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “We’ll get you laid before New Year’s yet.”
I groan, dropping my head back with a laugh. “Not this again.”
Sienna is on a mission to find me a new boyfriend before the new year. She’s treating it like a personal challenge, a side quest she’s determined to complete. And sure… itwouldbe nice to date someone again. But I’m not in any rush, especially after the yahoos I’ve dated. The bar is so low it’s practically underground, and I’m not eager to crawl back into that mess just because Sienna thinks a warm body will fix my life. It won’t.
