4 All I Want for Christmas
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS
Lucy
T he next day, I sit on Lily’s couch while she patiently listens to my pity party. I don’t know what I’d do without her at this point. She’s been such a good sport, hearing me drone on for the last hour now.
“That’s two men who are now out of the question because of one man who has absolutely no right to interfere,” I say before taking another big gulp of wine.
“To be fair, you didn’t even want one of them.”
“That’s not the point,” I argue.
“But it’s true.”
“The point is, Justin made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me. The man’s had six months to change his mind or at least explain himself. It’s too late now. He’s like a bad dream I can’t wake up from.”
“You know this is a sign, right? You’re going home in three weeks—why don’t you ask him to go with you? He owes it to you at this point. Plus, he was obviously trying to talk to you last night, so the door is wide open, in my opinion.” She reaches out to clink her glass with mine. “Cheers. You’re welcome.”
I lift my glass to my mouth and take a drink instead. “I am not cheersing to that. I’m sticking with my plan to tell them we broke up on the flight over. I’ll keep up the charade until then to avoid another date with Nathan while I’m there. It’s perfect.”
“They’ll be able to sneak a dinner in by the time you leave if they find out you’re single again on day one. It would be so much easier if you had a legit reason not to be set up with someone.”
“Ugh, I know it would, trust me. But seriously, it’s not an option. I’m not going to play the damsel in distress to get his attention, especially since I don’t even want it.”
In the Uber—an hour and two more glasses of wine later—my mind has other ideas because my fingers betray my common sense and type out a message to Justin that will surely get a response with a bit of manipulation. Knowing Justin’s protective nature, getting his attention isn’t rocket science.
Justin
It crossed my mind initially when I agreed to work the Christmas party for Mr. Dubree that I’d undoubtedly see Lucy there, but at the time, my momentary lapse in judgment told me it was no big deal. In hindsight, it was a very big deal. She’s been a distraction from the day I walked into Sebastian Dubree’s office to the day I failed Lily, and now still—six months later.
I blamed that distraction for letting Lily slip through the cracks. Ending things with Lucy was my solution and, likely, my self-imposed punishment. Regardless of whether it was the right thing to do, the way I went about it was wrong. Knowing I wouldn’t be strong enough to do it in person or otherwise, I simply tried pretending she didn’t exist. It definitely didn’t work.
My wandering eyes couldn’t refrain from stealing a glance in her direction every few minutes last night. She was just as beautiful as I remembered, even more so with that sexy red holiday dress sparkling against her porcelain skin. Her long, luscious blonde hair hanging down her back reminded me of our last morning together. It had fanned over my face as she rode me that final time before breakfast, right before I walked out the door of the most amazing night I’d ever had.
My body moved closer of its own accord when I saw her dancing with that other man. Remembering the feel of my hands on her hips made me wish it were me holding her close while our bodies swayed to the music. I’d done so well maintaining distance and keeping my gaze from meeting hers until I could no longer stop myself from intentionally catching her eye.
As she scrambled to the ladies’ room, I knew she was affected, and if Lily hadn’t followed, I would have gone after her. Then, when Tom put his hand on her, the remaining threads of my willpower snapped, and I was incapable of stopping my interference. Again, she became a defenseless distraction, one I decided then and there to stop fighting.
I didn’t speak the truth that struggled to break free soon enough: how sorry I was for my behavior, how much our time together truly meant to me, and how much I’ve missed her ever since. Before I worked up the nerve, she laid into me about not respecting her, which she had every right to do. Hearing the anger in her final words and watching her run away, ignoring my plea to wait, only confirmed what I’d already suspected—that I was too late.
Until this afternoon when my phone lit up with the name I never expected to see…
Lucy: I’ve gotten myself into some trouble. Would you be willing to meet? You’re the only one I can think of who could help.
It must be serious if she’s resorted to asking for my help. After she took off, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again. And why now? Did something happen today, or did my presence last night make her think of me for something she was already dealing with? I won’t disappoint her again, so there’s only one way to respond.
Me: Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.
Lucy: Can you come over now? To my place?
Me: See you in twenty.
My mind spins over what could be wrong during the drive. Of the five dates we went on, there were no red flags, no reason to suspect she was into anything shady. Her job was normal. Her condo wasn’t out of the ordinary for a woman her age with her salary. She didn’t overindulge any evening we were together, nor was she under the influence of anything.
I’m at a complete loss as I knock on her door seconds before it swings open abruptly.
“Hi. You came,” she says with a look of bewilderment.
“I said I’d see you in twenty minutes.” My eyebrows slant in confusion.
“Based on the last time you said you’d see me, I wasn’t sure,” she responds flippantly.
I catch a slight slur in her speech. “I deserve that. Have you been drinking?”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “You know what? This is a bad idea. Never mind.” She starts to close the door.
My hand stops it. “Lucy, what’s going on? I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”
She whips the door wide open. “Oh really? You’re going to demand answers? What about when I needed answers? Like why you ghosted me. Or why, instead of acting like an adult, you decided to ignore me and never speak to me again. Did I get answers? No. So if you expect me to just—”
Barging forward, I sling her over my shoulder and slam the door shut while she shouts in protest, pounding on my back. Stomping to the living room, I gently place her on the couch.
“What in God’s name is going on, Lucy? I’m not leaving until you tell me what trouble you’re in so I can help.” My arms are crossed as I stand before her, giving her no room to get up.
“How dare you? You can’t just barge in here and act like a beast. You have no right after the way you left things.”
“Your text a little while ago says otherwise. You’re the one who brought me here, so get on with it. This can go the easy way or the hard way—you choose.” I’m nearing my breaking point, and if she doesn’t start explaining what this is about, there’s no telling what I’ll do next.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, the slightest trepidation in her voice.
Fuck. My goal isn’t to scare her more, but dammit… If she needs help, then I need to know with what. This is not how I expected things to go on the drive over. Maybe it’s time for a different tactic.
Taking a seat on the couch, I turn toward her, resting my arm on the back of the cushion, concentrating on softening my tone. “Listen, Lucy, we have a past that, unfortunately, didn’t end as it should have. But I’m here now, and I’d like to help in whatever way possible. Please let me do what I can to make up for the way I’ve treated you.”
My words have the desired effect, and she relaxes immediately. Thank God. I’m not sure what the problem is, but something is obviously wrong if she’s drinking and texting me out of the blue on a Sunday afternoon, especially after the way she left last night.
“All right, but you’ll probably say no. It’s crazy that I’m even suggesting it.” She brings her feet up to the couch, bending her knees and hugging them to her body.
“Let me be the judge of that. What do you need?” I’m trying hard to keep my patience in check as she battles with herself to answer.
“A fiancé,” she blurts as she looks up at the ceiling, blowing air from her lungs.
What the…? I’m speechless and unable to form words for a moment.
“Yeah, so see? It’s not something you can help me with anyway. I’m sorry. The wine went to my head this afternoon, and I just… God, this is so stupid.” She rolls her eyes and then drops her head between her knees, shaking it back and forth while groaning.
After another minute of silent perplexity, I gently pry her head up and turn her to face me before finally finding my voice again. “What do you mean you need a fiancé?”
I watch as she contemplates her words, probably deciding whether to elaborate or keep up her efforts to blow it off, which won’t work if she chooses that route. The moment her mind is made up, she sighs in indignation.
“My family’s complicated—so complicated that I only go home to visit twice a year, on Thanksgiving and Christmas. A few weeks ago, at Thanksgiving, they were putting pressure on me to go out with this guy and then said it was time for me to settle down and start taking life seriously. To them, that means getting married to someone they approve of, becoming the perfect wife, and having perfect babies. They were ready to plan more dates during my visit for Christmas, but I panicked and told them I was engaged.” She looks at me sheepishly before quickly continuing. I’m trying to take it all in, wondering why she called me for this.
“At first, I just told them I was already involved with someone, but they were relentless, insisting I should give this Nathan guy a chance. So, in the heat of the moment, I went a step further and said we were engaged. It turned into a huge argument, and I ended up walking out. A few days later, they apologized and said we would discuss it more while I’m home for Christmas.” She’s cringing as she finishes.
“When you say ‘we,’ who did you tell them you were engaged to?” This is nowhere near any of the scenarios that went through my mind on my way here. Where the hell is she going with this? I have an idea, but…
“Since I’m a terrible liar, I named the only person who came to mind, someone I knew enough about to be able to bullshit my way through…” She pauses and takes a deep breath before finishing, “so, I told them I was engaged to you.” She looks up shyly.
This is the moment I know I’ll do anything she asks and be anyone she needs—whatever it takes to get more time with her looking at me with those piercing baby blues, even though it’s the last thing I deserve.
Before any words leave my mouth, she goes on, “But actually, it’s all good. I’ve already decided to tell them we broke up as soon as I get there, and then it won’t matter. Really, I think the—”
“What do you need me to do?” I cut her off. Hearing her breakup plan affects me more than it should, and I need to know if she was about to ask what I’m hoping for.
“Well, I thought… maybe you could pretend to be my fiancé and come home with me for Christmas, but I’m sure—”
“I’ll do it.” Thank fuck.
“Wait. Are you serious? You’d be gone a whole week, and you’d be spending Christmas without your family. Not only that, but you’d have to act as if you like me. Actually, you’d need to make it look like you love me.”
“I usually spend the holidays with my buddies, but they have each other, so I’m good there. As far as faking an engagement and pretending to be in love? I don’t know.” I shrug. “Sounds like a fun holiday to me.”
“You say that now, but you might be singing a different tune after you meet my parents.”
“Ah, they can’t be that bad if they raised you.”
“Says the guy who ding-dong ditched me.”
“Aaand that’s my cue to go.” I stand up and look down at her. “Send me your flight information so I can book mine. The sooner, the better. I need to make arrangements at the office for my absence, and let me know if I need to pack anything special.” I get up and start heading toward the front door.
“I’ll take care of your flight. It’s the least I can do since this is such a big ask.”
I turn with my hand on the doorknob. “Not happening. I’ll book my own flight. Send me the details if you want me to go. See you later, Lucy.”
“Justin—”
But I’m already stepping out and shutting the door before she can argue.