“You too! Have a great night!” With that, she gives me an enthusiastic wave and bounces back to her group of friends, who huddle around to question her and look at the pictures on her phone.
Feeling several pairs of eyes on me, I keep a smile plastered to my face as I meet Natalie’s gaze. “Andthatis why I need a break from Toronto. Call it an escape, call it running away. I don’t really care because I’m going either way. I want to go to the grocery store without being asked about my next movie, or go to the theater without being quizzed about what it was like working with Tim Sagger as a kid. I want to walk down the freakin’ street without someone stopping me to share their condolences—or worse, their detailed, personal opinion—over my failed marriage.”
I suck in a deep breath, watching as Nat’s eyes widen with each rushed word that comes out of my mouth. “I need a break. I don’t need you to understand, I just need you to support me. Okay?”
“Okay. Okay.” Natalie holds up her hands in surrender. “I get it. I still don’t think running away will actually solve anything, but it’s your life, and you have my support. Always.” She smiles at me over the rim of her glass before taking a sip. “How long will you be gone?”
I take another fortifying gulp of my drink, then clear my throat, hoping my tone comes out casual. “Just ’til the new year.”
“The—” Natalie’s mouth falls open and she sputters a bunch of incoherent sounds. “Thenew year? That long? It’s only mid-November!”
I sit up straighter, squaring my shoulders. This ismydecision. It wasn’t one I came to lightly or without a lot of thought, and I won’t let Natalie cast any doubts over it. “Yes, until the new year. I’m renting a house in Honeywell Hollow and I’m going to spend the next several weeks doing my own thing.” Whatever that is. I haven’t had this much downtime since…well,ever, but I’m sure I’ll figure something out.
Natalie sighs dramatically. “Okay. I hope you’ll be happy hiding out in some backwater town doing god knows what.”
Irritation flashes through me until I see the shit-eating grin on her face. She’s trying to goad me into arguing. Not gonna happen.
“I hear those small towns are the best places to meet hot men,” she says. “Maybe you’ll have a real-life meet cute like your characters do in your movies. You’ll be out doing whatever it is people do in small towns, and you’ll stumble upon some handsome hunk of a man. One who works with his hands and drives a pickup truck, of course.”
I snort into my drink. “Why a pickup truck?”
“Oh come on, you know the leading men in the movies you’re in always work with their hands and drive a truck. Unless they’re some big-city corporate guy who practically lives in the office and drives a fancy sports car or gets chauffeured around.”
She’s got me there. I think back to the last three Christmas movies I did, and what the leading men did for a living and drove: reindeer rancher, drove a pickup; carpenter, drove a pickup; Christmas tree farmer and, yep, you guessed it, drove a pickup.
“You may be right, but I’m serious when I say I’m not interested in hooking up with anyone. I want to slow down and enjoy some peace and quiet. Take this time to figure some things out.” Natalie’s eyes light with curiosity, making me regret those last words. This isn’t the time or place to get into any of that, so I barrel on. “The house I’m renting has three bedrooms. Maybe you can visit for a weekend before Christmas. We can hide out together for a few days.”
“Christmas!” she cries, suddenly looking dismayed. “You’re actually going to be gone forChristmas? Staying by yourself in some strange town, spending the holidays alone?”
Her words stir up a myriad of memories and emotions I’ve worked hard to deal with over the years. And by ‘deal with’ I mean ‘suppress’—just ask my former therapist. I keep my face carefully blank as I shrug and pick up my glass to drain its contents. “I’ve spent plenty of Christmases alone. Only child whose mother worked constantly, remember? More often than not, Christmas has been just like any other day of the year for me.”
Natalie clutches her chest and groans. Always with the theatrics, this one. She definitely went into the right profession. “But you’re theQueen of Christmas, Joss. Hearing you say that is like some sort of blasphemy.”
“Josslyn Hazelwood theactress, star of countless cheesy, fluffy holiday movies on the From the Heart Network is the Queen of Christmas. Joss Hazelwood the real person is…well, I wouldn’t say I’m a Scrooge, but I don’t get the warm, fuzzy feelings and holiday cheer a lot of other people seem to experience at this time of year.”
Ready to be finished with this conversation, I pull a twenty-dollar bill from my purse and tuck it under my glass before getting to my feet. “And on that note, I need to get home because I’m leaving for Honeywell Hollow tomorrow afternoon.”
“Tomorrow? God, you really are full of surprises.” Natalie hops to her feet and holds out her arms for a hug. “You’ll stay in touch, right? You’re not going quite that far off the grid in Honeybun Creek, are you?”
I laugh, rolling my eyes even though she can’t see me. “Honeywell Hollow. And no, I’m sure they have cell reception. Who knows, they might even have that new-fangled Wi-Fi.” I release her slowly, gripping her hand and giving it a squeeze.
“We’ll talk soon. And…” She trails off, peering over my shoulder, eyes going wide in appreciation. I follow her gaze, spotting a guy at the bar who looks like he could be Idris Elba’s twin brother watching us with a small smile. He raises his beer bottle in salute.
I nod in acknowledgement before turning back to a grinning Natalie. “You were saying?”
She clears her throat, giving her head a little shake. “Yes, right. I was saying you should consider what I said about letting a round or two of hot sex work its magic in your healing process. You might not feel like celebrating Christmas, but that doesn’t mean you can’t let some hot guy jingle your bells and make your season merry.”
I burst out laughing, pulling her back in for another hug. “I’ll think about it. For now, I’m leaving.”
“That hottie over there seems like he wouldn’t mind leaving with you.” Natalie nudges me with her elbow while wiggling her eyebrows as much as her Botoxed face will allow.
I shift our positions slightly so I can get a better look at the guy at the bar. He’s still watching us, now with an expression I can only call hopeful. Maybe Nat has a point; maybe there’s something to be said for her theory of getting under someone to get over someone else. But not tonight.
“He’s all yours,” I tell her, kissing her cheek and reaching for my coat and scarf. “I have a feeling you’re already on Santa’s Naughty List anyway.”
“You better believe it!” Her laughter trails after me as I wind my way through the high tables and stools toward the door.
CHAPTER TWO
