I narrow my eyes. “A furniture store with a blue and yellow façade?”
“I would never. Anyway, I brought you this.” She reaches into her tote like she’s Mary fucking Poppins and unfurls an apron.
“I’m not wearing that,” I say immediately. It’s red and white with a thick black belt sewn across the front. A Santa apron.
The look in her eye is devilish as she says, “That’s not all.”
She takes the hat off her head and starts towards me.
“No,” I say, taking a step back.
“Get over here, Falkenberg.”
“I saidI’m not wearing that.” I circle the island to put it between her and myself, making the cameraman stumble out of the way. I’ve never worn a Santa hat and I’m not starting today.
“Be my guest explaining that to my father, then. He’s already signed off on it and I’m not in the mood to get steamrolled,” she says.
“So used to getting your way, aren’t you,” I remark.
“Hardly. Now get over here and put on the apron, Krampus. If you’re a good boy I’ll refrain from posting pictures on the team’s socials.”
My hackles raise at the way she saysgood boy, like I’m some kind of pet. It makes me feel like a dog chewing through its leash.
“Just do it, Falkenberg, for fuck’s sake. A little roleplay never hurt anybody,” Parker sighs.
“Easy for you to say,” Ryan murmurs.
Hearst and Parker then proceed to look at him, simultaneously saying, “What?”
“What?” he repeats.
What the fuck?
“Fine. I’ll do it,” I snap when the gnome-looking man fails to offer an explanation. “If only so I can get you all of my house as soon as possible.”
I walk over to Hearst and snatch the Santa hat from her hands, ignoring the way my skin prickles as her fingers brush mine. Then I snatch the apron, too, and tie it around my waist.
Fan i helvete.I look ridiculous.
Freddie and her minions erupt in laughter, and my neck grows hot—just as Ryan starts rolling the camera. This day can’t end quickly enough. I briefly wonder if I would have signed my ten-million-a-year contract had I known it would include this.
“Wait.It’s crooked,” Hearst says, regarding the hat, and she reaches for it atop my head but can’t quite grasp it. She places a hand against my chest to balance herself as she stands on her tip toes to straighten it. The unexpected touch reminds me of our first meeting, only this time, I don’t recoil.
“Perfect,” Hearst smirks.
I watch, dumbfounded, as she flits about my kitchen, opening and closing drawers while she pulls groceries out of her bag and gathers utensils and cookware. How does she know where to look for things? Didn’t she grow up with a live-in chef? When she bends over to look for something in one of my cabinets, I force myself to look the other way, my fingertips pressing hard into the wooden countertop.
I glance at the trolls instead. Parker is watching me with a cool expression, boom in their hand while Ryan unpacks and adjusts his lighting setup. I can’t remember the last time anyone was in my kitchen, aside from to grab a glass of water. I’m not the kind of guy who lets you get so far as sleeping over, let alone the kind that cooks breakfast afterwards.
“I think that’s everything. Mattias, stand right here.” Hearst gestures to where she’d like me.
“A little left. He’s practically translucent under that kitchen light,” Ryan comments.
I shoot him a dirty look.
Then it registers. She’s just said my name, like it’s something she uses every day.
I blink, caught off guard.
