My Holiday Secret: A Romantic Comedy, page 4
What was it about being back home that made me so damn neurotic? I must've looked like the worst person in the world. Hallmark couldn't have been more wrong. That's what the holidays really do, I thought about the article I still hadn't even started, they bring out the worst in people.
“Congratulations,” He said splitting the silence between us. All traces of a smile on his lips, even the smug self-satisfied one that I'd come to find insanely attractive, was gone. All that was left was resignation. “You're off to a rocky start, but I hope it all works out.”
“It's not like that. My parents only think I'm engaged.” I was compelled to clarify. For some reason, I needed Vance to know the truth. I didn't want him to think I was a bad person. A thousand different scenarios of ways I might see him again flashed across my mind, each more impractical than the last. “I'm not engaged anymore—”
Why couldn't I just let him leave? That was my goal right?
Suddenly the garage door opened, which was weird because I knew no one was home.
Then I looked down our long driveway and all my fears crawled out of my imagination and slapped me in the face. Like a goddamn ninja, Dad's little, pretentious, electric car coasted near soundlessly toward us on the crushed stone and snow.
“Oh shit!” I physically flinched. “They saw us together!”
It was bad enough that I was too hung-over to go to church with them this morning, but for them to come home and find me talking with a strange man... I would never hear the end of it.
I'd basically been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
“Don't worry. I'm gone.” Vance snorted with annoyance. He shifted his weight and took a heavy step backward, then turned to leave.
“No. Wait.” I lunged forward and caught his bicep, stopping him. He couldn't leave now, the damage was done! It would look even worse if my afternoon delight made a speedy getaway after my parents saw him. There was only one thing left to do.
I had to use the nuclear option.
“Be my fiancé,” I blurted like a crazy woman.
“Excuse me?” He looked at me like I had three heads and none of them were making any sense.
“Not like for real, of course!” I squeezed his arm in panic while Dad and Mom rolled into the garage, glaring at us curiously as they passed. Thank God their windows were up. I would've been extremely embarrassed by what I was asking of Vance, but I didn't have any choice. “Just until midnight.”
Vance glanced down at my hand curiously, then up to my eyes. There was confusion and a little bit of concern marring his hard, gruff features. I could tell he considered it, but the look on his face spoke volumes.
“Sorry.” His reply was stern, but surprisingly small. I could tell he felt bad about not helping me. Then he pulled away.
“Abigail?” Mom's voice echoed out of the garage, as did the sound of her car door closing. A wave of disapproval followed. “Who's that with you?”
She used her explain yourself tone that I’d grown up with. I could already feel her jumping to conclusions.
“No, please!” I whispered to him, struggling to think of something, anything that would convince him. Then I came up with something so obvious I could've tripped over it. That's crazy! I couldn't do that!
Grandma rounded the garage corner looking concerned, and a little confused. She has a weak heart, I reminded myself. One look at her sweet, wrinkled face made me realize I didn't have a choice. I would have to tell her the truth about Chris eventually, but not today. I refused to let her down on Christmas Eve.
“I'll pay you five hundred dollars!” I whispered to Vance, pleading to him with my eyes.
It pained me to ask this of him for a lot of reasons; the most practical of them being that I needed the money.
It wouldn't be the first time I was late for rent.
Vance stopped and scoffed, slowly shaking his head. He rested a hand on his hood and mulled it over.
Mom and Dad came around the corner a moment later. Mom was the chronically cold type, and was barely visible under all her layers. Dad was the opposite. He simply wore what was basically just a thick windbreaker over his formal wear.
“Hi,” I called out to them as I walked over to stand next to Vance. Vance blew out his breath, then glanced down at me and offered a barely perceptible nod.
Oh thank God…
“Mom. Dad.” I exhaled in relief. Then I slipped an arm behind Vance's back and smiled as convincingly as possible. Every part of me screamed that this was a bad idea. Hell, between last night and this morning I was on roll... Why start making good decisions now? “This is Chris, my fiancé.”
Chapter 4
Vance
“Are you shitting me?” Abby met me outside by the front door of her family's upper middle class, suburban mansion. She looked me over, mouth agape.
“What?” I pulled open my leather jacket and inspected my black, button down shirt and jeans for a mustard stain or something.
The meeting with her parent's was brief, and colder than Satan's ex-wife’s cooch. Benjamin, Abby’s father, muttered a strained hello before his wife ordered him inside with the two small bags of groceries he was carrying. Her mother regarded my outstretched hand like it was a blanket of small pox. She eyed me as if I was a death row inmate, then scolded Abby about moving my car before pulling her coat tighter and walking inside.
After that exchange I couldn’t wait to meet the rest of Abby’s family…
At least Abby's grandmother seemed nice. She was the only one who bothered to shake my hand.
What the fuck was I thinking dropping her wallet off? I could’ve left it at the bar and had them call her to pick it up. What was I hoping for? It was a mock question, because I knew what I was hoping for. I wanted seconds on her delicious body. But even that bothered me a little. I couldn't remember the last time I wanted to fuck a girl twice. Hell I couldn't even remember fucking a girl once and having it be as good as it was with Abby.
I understood sex. It was fun and I wanted a lot of it.
What I didn't understand, were all these other emotions I got when I thought of Abby. I'm not the kind of guy that does happy endings.
A weekend’s worth of pay in a few hours, I told myself. That’s the only reason I was here. It had nothing to do with last night.
For some reason I had to keep reminding myself of that.
“I thought you said you were going to go dress up?” Abby tucked her natural, dark red hair behind one ear. She was still about as flustered as she was a few hours ago when I dropped off her wallet.
“I am.” I drew the back of my hand down the length of the new black tie I just bought.
“Is that...” Abby bent forward, inspecting my tie. “Even your tie is covered in skulls?!”
“Hot Topic was the only place that was open. I like your perfume.” It was hard to be upset by her outrage when I could smell her perfume. I drank in her expression when she was shocked that I knew it was the same one she wore last night. “You wore that for me.”
It wasn't a question.
“We should head inside.” Abby stammered through the words, her cheeks turning red in the process.
Fuck this girl was adorable. I could hardly stand it. When she turned to head in, I grabbed her hand and pulled her into me. I slid my hand across her scalding cheek and captured her gaze. Abby's breathing fluttered spiked.
“What are you doing?” She whispered. The chilly air made her hot breath rise like steam from her pomegranate lips. It took everything out of me not to bite into that fruit.
“We're supposed to be in love right?” I drew her toward me, rocking her on to her tip toes, and kissed her. She was agonizingly warm and soft. If I wasn't careful, I could lose myself in her. I dragged my thumb down her bottom lip “I could never let my girl have perfect lipstick.
“Last night was fun but I’m not that kind of girl,” Abby whispered wistfully, then shoved the front door open. “I hope you don’t think tonight ends with you getting lucky.”
I grabbed her hips from behind and whispered in her ear. “If something does happen between us tonight, you’ll be the one getting lucky.”
The shiver I felt run through her, curled the side of my mouth into a smug smile. If nothing else, tonight was certainly going to be interesting.
A wave of heat and lights washed over me as I walked inside. The house was everything I wasn’t used to; polished wood floors, doublewide twisting central staircase, pastel colored walls, a chandelier and a roaring fireplace.
The second I walked in, I was immediately struck in the mouth by Christmas cheer—in the form of a Nerf dart. I snapped my gaze at the two boys that were currently warring with each other. They both looked to be around ten and were dressed nicer than I was. Panic washed over them when they saw the expression on my face. They immediately bolted around a corner to safety.
“You certainly have a way with kids.” Abby forced down a smirk.
“Yeah. I’m a real crowd pleaser.” I chuckled, shrugging off my jacket and hung it on the rack. “There’s booze here, right?”
“Oh, God yes.” Abby pulled in a deep breath and grabbed my hand.
There was a slight static charge between us when she did. Or maybe I just imagined there was.
She led me toward the subdued sounds of family tolerating each other while playing a board game. Abby’s grandmother waved sweetly as we passed. She sat in a chair quietly, reading by the fireplace. Everyone else was in the dining room on the other side of the staircase. It was a relatively small family, with around eight people playing the game. Abby’s sister and her fiancé hadn’t arrived yet, but several of her aunts and uncles were there with their kids.
The round of greetings went quick, despite the reactions I got. They ranged from disbelief and intimidated, to smugly pleased that Abby was progressive enough to date someone of my…uniqueness.
I held my tongue as best I could, despite the blatant classism. Regardless of the deal I made with Abby, my filter wouldn’t last long.
“What are we playing? Bingo?” I sat next to Abby and reached for one of the bottles of wine on a tray in the middle of the table. Alcohol was the only way I was going to make it through the night.
“It’s a game called Pokeno!” Lucy, Abby’s aunt, a short portly woman with a perma smile and bob hair style, excitedly rose up to give me a game board. She was obviously the game master. The concept was similar to Bingo, except they flipped playing cards.
“It’s a way for Lucy to justify her extreme couponing hobby.” Walt, Lucy’s husband, scoffed. He was somehow both short and lanky, but had a paunch. He wore a tired expression, as if simply being alive was exhausting. He dressed and carried himself like midlevel management at a bank.
I could always spot guys like him at the bar. They were our week night regulars. They never caused any real trouble; they were just a generally miserable lot, bemoaning their crappy lives. Reading people came naturally to me. Being a bouncer, it had to. My job was to stop bad things from happening, and to do that I needed to see it coming.
Lucy’s smile dimmed for a moment, and her eyes narrowed bitterly as she regarded her husband. The look alluded to what was probably a never-ending argument between the two about her hobby. Then, as if it never happened, her face brightened and she pointed out the shelf behind her that held a basket of sundries, candy and other drug store effects. “And we have prizes!”
“Sounds fun, but I’m going to sit this one out. I’ll make sure your niece doesn’t cheat though.” I joked, filling Abby’s glass, then my own. Draining half my cup in one go, I put my arm around Abby, then cocked my head toward her. “Somebody’s gotta keep her honest.”
“OK, whose turn is it?” Abby chuckled, trying to shift focus and took a sip of her wine.
We played a few hands and kept the conversations fairly light. Jessie, Lucy’s teenage son, grunted noncommittal replies whenever he was prodded to do so, otherwise his eyes were glued to his phone. After a few failed conversations, Jessie left the table. When asked by his mother where he was going, Jessie snapped at her to lay off.
Teenager’s hormones… Hurricanes were less destructive.
An argument suddenly broke out between Walt and his wife about the boy’s attitude. Walt accused her of letting Jessie walk all over her, and tried to recruit Abby and I onto his side by asking us leading questions. Lucy told him to leave us out if it, then gave him an earful for leaving all the parenting to her.
I was put back on my heels at how quickly it became vicious, but Abby and the rest of her aunts and uncles seemed relatively unfazed by the whole thing. That led me to believe this sort of thing was commonplace with those two. Even weirder was that Lucy still flipped cards during all this, and everyone continued the game as normal.
“Chris, is it?” Abby’s father asked, drying his hands on his apron. Ben was a welcome reprieve from the awkwardness at the other end of the table. Benjamin and his wife had been wrapping up dinner in the kitchen while we played. I could tell right away that he wanted nothing to do with me, but this was expected of him, so here he was.
“All my life.” I lied, standing up and offering a hand. This time he actually took it. I glanced over to the kitchen to attempt some report. “Smells good in there.”
“So Chris…” Ben nodded, looking me over skeptically. Ben had neatly trimmed, salt-and-pepper hair and stood almost as tall as me. From the interaction outside I already knew that he was the clearly the beta in his relationship. “Abigail tells me you’re a stamp cataloger for an NPO? Is that true?”
“Pardon?” I asked. I was so lost in thought that I tuned out for a second. Did he say stamp cataloger? As in someone who evaluates stamps? What was Abby’s relationship like with this guy?
“For ten years now!” Abby interjected. She smiled nervously through her teeth and flashed her eyes at me. Play along!
Postage stamps? Seriously? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
“Eleven, actually.” I corrected her, then turned back to her father. I tried to get into the headspace of the least cool version of myself that I could imagine. “Started as a hobby in high school. What can I say? I love me some stamps.”
“Interesting,” Ben nodded. He walked over to a fine China hutch along the wall and opened a small drawer. His resolve softened a little at the perceived commonality. “You know I did a little collecting myself. Would you like to take a look?”
“I try not to mix business and pleasure, but sure. Let’s live dangerously.” I downed the rest of my drink with my pride and walked over to him. He had a red hardcover book of the little bastards in a glass display case. I flipped through them, feigning interest.
Fuck, this could not be any more boring.
“Some old-ass stamps you got here, Benjamin.” The dull tattoos on my knuckles and fingers contrasted sharply with the bright colored squares of paper and glue.
“Can you tell me if any of these are worth anything?” He asked, studying me intently as I flipped the pages.
Was this some sort of test?
“Loads.” I lied, pointing at one randomly. I didn't know a damn thing about stamps, but who cares? I was never going to see these people again. The deal was to convince them until the end of the night. I could do that. “Look at this little guy. Super rare.”
“Really?” He wrapped an arm across his cardigan covered chest and held his chin pensively with the other hand.
“Oh yeah.” I leaned in closer pretending to look for certain indicators. “I’ve only come across a few of these at the uh…stamp office.”
Alright, yeah. That was pretty bad. Where the hell do you catalog stamps?
“Odd.” Ben’s eyes narrowed slightly. It was a pretty passive aggressive gesture that told me he was skeptical. I remembered the aunt and realized that it must be a family thing. Thankfully, Abby didn’t behave like that. Ben examined the stamp in question, then looked at me. “The appraiser told me that was the weak link in my collection. ‘Practically worthless,’ the man said.”
Shit. I’d been caught and he knew it.
The card bingo game slowed to a crawl as everyone in the room turned toward me, waiting to hear my response at basically being outed as a fraud. Dealing with violent, belligerent assholes at the bar was a cakewalk compared to this.
Joy, I thought. I can’t punch my way out of this problem.
“You’d better get a new appraiser then,” I smiled confidently, doubling down on my facade. Fuck it, let’s ride this out. “You see all the flowery bullshit around here? Looks weird, right? That’s a misprint. Don’t quote me, but that’s probably worth a few hundred. Easy.”
I might not be a stamp cataloger, but I was willing to bet that neither was Ben. It didn’t take a genius to notice that all the stamps were from the same series. I could even tell that they’d come from the same sheet from the way their perforated edges were torn. That probably meant Ben didn’t collect them. He bought the collection from someone.
“Huh. I hadn’t noticed that.” Ben’s eyebrows furrowed as he leaned in to give the stamp a closer look. His smug certainty dissolved. The look of doubt that flashed across his face said; "what if the bearded giant knew his shit?"
I soaked in his expression.
“Don’t worry, Ben. I won’t bill you for the appraisal until after the holidays.” I joked, clasping him on the shoulder. Walt, Lucy and a few others laughed in the background, then went back to the game. I glanced at Abby and smirked.
I sat back down next to Abby and poured myself another glass of wine.
“Smooth,” Abby whispered to me.
“I know.” I winked at her and grabbed her thigh under the table. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Her eyes flashed, and a grin eked out of her, despite her earlier comments. I squeezed and watched her chest rise in a deep breath, reveling in the fact that she didn’t attempt to move my hand. She wasn’t used to strong guys who took what they wanted.
And Abby was worth taking.
“Hey everyone, sorry we’re late. I had to wrap up some last minute orders—But! We come bearing gifts—” Jan, Abby’s sister, made a dramatic sweeping entrance with overflowing bags of presents. Her eyes flared in surprise when she saw me. She shifted her gaze to Abby, then smiled wickedly.
