Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 30858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
On my coffee table, familiar frames held my favorite holiday memories—photos I’d collected over the years—now dressed with sprigs of holly and tiny bells, as if someone had taken the time to remember not just the season…
…but me.
I blinked hard, the sting behind my eyes impossible to ignore.
A yellow Post-it note sat atop my letter to Santa.
Jenna,
I hope you won’t file a report on me for breaking and entering…
I just wanted to make sure this was all finished before Christmas Day, since you never miss a year.
—Nicholas
P.S. It’s slightly hypocritical for you to complain about my naughty/nice list when you write things like this about me to Santa…
P.P.S. You’re welcome.
7B
NICHOLAS
“Is this dress too much?” Laura whispered as we rode up to the top floor of my building a few nights later. “It’s vintage, so I’m not sure.”
I was barely paying attention to her; all I could focus on was the fact that tonight was the final test.
Seeing if she could even halfway convince Marshall we were an item before we did a few more rounds of work—before her introducing me to her family and me inviting her out with a few of my other friends.
“Um, hello?” She waved a hand in front of my face. “Do I look okay in this dress or not, Nicholas?”
“Sorry about that.” I glanced at her reflection in the doors’ glass.
“You look good,” I said, examining the deep green V-cut and the way it gripped her hips, the way its fabric threaded deliberately through the pearls at her throat.
Why does that dress look extremely familiar, though?
“Don’t take this personally,” I said, “but I feel like I’ve seen that dress somewhere before.”
“Probably on Miss Dawson.” She shrugged. “I stole it from her wardrobe when she was showing me countless examples of what you like and don’t like.”
“I see…” The memory of the first time I’d seen it suddenly struck me.
Last year’s Christmas party. Her entering the lobby. Taking every single man’s breath away.
The sight of her in that dress, with her deep brown hair pulled up high in a bun I wished I’d had the chance to run my fingers through, had fucked up my focus for the entire night—so much so that I’d barely managed to look away long enough to finish my speech.
The doors glided open with a BING!, and I reached for Laura’s hand, escorting her off the car and into the grand hall.
“Good evening, Mr. Saint.” The host smiled, then tipped his hat at Laura. “Who do I have the pleasure of seating you with today?”
“This is Laura Hayley,” I said. “My fiancée.”
Confusion flickered across his face, but he quickly cleared his throat.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Laura,” he said. “Your guest is already waiting at a table.”
He led us through the room of empty, white-clothed tables directly to Marshall and a table that was preset with chilled wine.
I pulled out the chair for Laura and immediately uncorked the bottle.
“It’s so nice to meet the beautiful woman that Nicholas has fallen in love with.” Marshall extended his hand to Laura.
“The pleasure is all mine.” She smiled. “It’s humbling to meet his best friend and confidant.”
“Tell me something,” Marshall said. “How did you know that Nicholas was the one?”
“Well, I mean, I don’t know he’s the one.” She laughed, then shot me a panicked look. “Wait a minute… am I supposed to be pretending right now? Does your best friend know about this ruse, or no?”
“He knows.” I downed my wine. He definitely knows…
“Oh,” she said. “Well, in that case, let’s save the pretend play for when we have to do it for real.”
“Tonight is a much-needed practice session,” I said. “We’ve been through this like eight times today…”
“Yeah, and up until now, I’ve aced every moment.” She crossed her arms. “Unless you’ve been lying to me about how much of a ‘fine job’ I’ve been doing. Have you?”
Yes. “I would like it if we could advance from ‘fine’ to ‘good’ by practicing some potential conversations tonight.” I tried to remain calm.
“Well, I’ve already promised away the next three weeks of my life to you, and I’m tired.”
“You’re also getting paid.”
“Fine then.” She stood up. “Give me twenty minutes to get some dancing out of my system, and then I’ll be fully in character. Is that alright with you, honey bunny?”
“I told you to stop testing out pet names.”
“Couples without pet names are most believable.” She shrugged and stepped back. “I’ll be right over there until my time runs out.”
She winked at Marshall before slipping away onto the empty dance floor.
“I’ll be back in twenty.”
By the time I’d blinked twice, she was twirling around the room alone, holding up her cell phone.
“You know, you could easily just hold off on this for another five years.” Marshall shook his head. “It’s not like you’re going to fall into poverty between now and then.”