When I settle into the front seat, I glance in the rearview mirror as Mia buckles her seat belt. Maybe I don’t have to do everything alone. “Mia, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
I hand her my phone. “Can you look up a local organization that focuses on saving trees or planting trees?Something like that. Then use the card stored on the phone and make a donation.”
“Sure! How much?”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
“Dad!”
“It’s Christmas. And at Christmas you give back, right?”
“You do,” she says, then swipes at the speed of light.
When that’s done and we’re back in the cabin, I forward the email to Isla, along with a note.
I’m sorry I was a terrible client. Thank you for everything you did for me. Especially trying to get a grinch like me to see that not everything is pears. Some things can be trees.
Then, I get ready, put on my tux, and take a little lady in a red snowflake dress to the team gala, wishing the whole time there were three of us.
I walk through the front entrance at the famed chalets in Evergreen Falls. The lobby is warm and inviting, with wooden beams and a tall stone fireplace. Guests bustle about in their holiday finery. Garlands decorate the walls, and the scent of pine drifts past my nose. We head down the hallway toward the ballroom where the gala will be held.
Gold and red ribbons are hung on the walls, and a pair of toweringly tall Christmas trees greets us at the French doors—right along with a hotel employee wielding a tablet. She must be checking in gala guests. Once we give her our names and head inside, Mia gasps. The tree in the middle of the room is silver and rises to the ceiling. Apiano player taps out “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” on a gleaming black baby grand.
Tables full of elegantly arranged food go on for miles, and at the center of them sits a chocolate fountain.
“I bet they serve it in cups,” I remark.
“I bet I can drink more than you,” Mia counters, then takes off for the fountain.
“I bet you’re in big trouble.”
I snap to attention at the sound of Jason’s voice—stern, pissed off, commanding. Slowly, I gulp and turn around, coming face-to-face with my agent and best friend. His arms are crossed. His lips are a ruler. I’ve never seen him so…angry.
“What’s up?” I ask, all cool and casual.
“What the hell did you do to my sister?”
In my job, you have to move quickly. You barely have time to think. Just react.
Somehow, those instincts kick in right away tonight, and I blurt out, “It was never fake.”
“No shit,” he says.
Wait. What? “You knew?”
He rolls his eyes. “No, asshole. I fucking bluffed just now. I’m a good agent. It’s what I do. I took a chance, and I was right.” His stare could burn houses down with a single look. “So I ask again—what did you do to my sister? I saw her earlier, and she said she wasn’t coming. That you were going alone. Why?”
The last word is bitten off.
I drag a hand along my neck, checking that Mia’s okay. But the chocolate fountain is enchanting her. I turn back to Jason, all my guilt over lying bubbling all the way up. Sometimes you just need to come clean.
“Look, I’ve had it bad for her for more than a year.Sorry, not sorry. She’s amazing and kind and competitive and funny and honest and heartfelt, and she calls it like it is, and she keeps me on my toes. And the time I spent with her as she tried to match me was some of the best times I’ve ever had. It was my idea to do practice-dates, and my idea to fake-date, and along the way I just…” I stop for a second because I didn’t expect to say all this, but I’ve built up a hell of a head of steam. “I just fell for her.”
His lips twitch in a hint of a smile, but it burns off. “So why isn’t she here?”
That’s the question I’ve been asking myself since we left the thrift store. No—since Mia told me she had learned to love again on the street. I’ve been asking it nonstop.
