Chapter 32 A Little Social Interaction
A LITTLE SOCIAL INTERACTION
ROWAN
“Look! Isn’t it so cute?” Mia thrusts an ornament my way as we leave the pottery studio.
I inspect it and…damn. “You’re an artist,” I say, admiring the ornament—a stack of five miniature books hanging on a hook.
“It’s really good,” Isla adds.
Mia’s smile is bright and pleased. “Thanks! Charlotte made a cool one too.” She cranes her neck behind her as her friend catches up next to us on the sidewalk.
“Charlotte, show your ornament to my dad—and my lawyer.”
Corbin stops short, tilting his head Isla’s way. “You’re a lawyer and a matchmaker?”
I tense for a second, my words from earlier playing on a loop. I told him I’m into someone, and it’s fuck-all complicated. Will he figure out that Isla is that person? But then, the fake-dating plan—when we roll it out—ought to cover that.
Some of the tightness eases as Isla answers nimbly, “A matchmaker who moonlights as a lawyer.”
She handled that perfectly. “And these two ganged up on me and tried to convince me to make an Advent calendar of books,” I say. “Basically, Isla decided she was Mia’s counsel. They twisted my arm.”
Corbin scoffs. “Yeah, sounds like it was real hard to convince you.”
“So hard,” Isla teases.
“Dad, we need to do the calendar tonight,” Mia says, tugging on my arm.
“Yes, we do—and you can read me a chapter,” I tell my kiddo.
“And then tomorrow, you’ll give her another book?” Isla asks, all innocence. She is such an enabler.
Charlotte whips her gaze to Corbin. “Dad, I want a book Advent calendar too. That sounds like a fun idea.”
Corbin looks like his head is spinning. “Maybe show me your ornament first.”
Charlotte displays a ribbon made of Scrabble tiles. It spells D-O-G-G-Y.
I snort-laugh. “I think someone’s trying to tell you something.”
“I even made a calendar for how we can make it work in your schedule, Dad,” Charlotte says, and I laugh harder.
“I, for one, think this D-O-G-G-Y suggestion is an excellent one,” Isla says to my buddy. “I highly recommend Little Friends Animal Rescue. They have an Evergreen Falls branch. I’d be happy to assist.”
Corbin’s face goes blank. Then he turns to me. “Lawyer. Definitely a lawyer.” But his expression clears quickly as he levels me with another I see right through you stare. “Complicated, huh?”
It’s asked dryly, a callback to the conversation we had at the North Pole Nook.
Even though Corbin’s not a teammate of mine, I feel like he counts broadly in the teammate category since he’s a hockey friend. Since it’s best I don’t pre-announce that we’re dating before I tell the other guys—or my kid—I practice my best poker face, answering with, “Just a little.”
After he says goodnight and walks down the street to his car, I turn to the two ladies beside me. “Do you want a ride?” I ask Isla, even though I’m pretty sure the answer is going to be no—she probably has her car with her.
And my heart already feels a little heavy when she shakes her head. “I drove.”
“Oh, you’re in the Christmas car! The one with the lights. I want to ride in it again!”
“I would love to take you,” Isla says, letting her down gently. “But your dad has his car. But I promise—I’ll take you another time. Would you like that?”
Mia’s smile turns a little impish. “Maybe you could give me a ride tomorrow to a Christmas tree farm…and we could hang this ornament on a tree?”
Shit. A tree. I’ve got to deal with a tree here in Evergreen Falls, where I usually get away with avoiding trees inside since we’re surrounded by them outside.
While there are certain things I’m liking about Christmas a lot more this year, thanks to Isla, a tree isn’t one of them.
Still reminds me too much of my ex. I’m about to tell my daughter we can get a tree at my parents’ place when they arrive in a couple days…
except when I look at her hopeful eyes, I can’t keep disappointing her with my bah humbugs.
I want to make my daughter happy at Christmas, even if it’s not the most wonderful time of the year for me. And really—is a tree such a terrible thing?
“Do you want to look for a tree?” I ask.
Isla gasps quietly at the same time that Mia’s face lights up brighter than any holiday display. “Yes!” Mia says. “Tomorrow, please. But I want Isla to come. She is my Christmas lawyer, after all.”
I glance at Isla. Her blue eyes dance with a secret thrill. They say, too, that she knows what a big deal this is. That she’s…fuck. It’s like she’s proud of me.
“Would you like to?” I ask. “We have a contest thing tomorrow, but maybe we could go—”
“After,” Mia finishes for me.
“Let’s do it in the late afternoon,” Isla says. “Then, you can see the lights on the car when we’re done. And I’d be happy to drive.”
“This is going to be so fun,” Mia says.
But the tree farm might also give her ideas about Isla and me. Mia likes Isla a lot. I don’t want her to get her hopes up. I’m not even sure I should wait till we’re home.
“Hey, cupcake,” I say, after checking to make sure the coast is clear and that Corbin’s well and truly gone.
“Yes, Dad?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
Those are magic words to a kid. “Of course I can.”
I give Isla a now or never shrug. She nods, as if she understands me immediately.
“We need to tell you something,” I say, then offer a simplified version of events. “You know how my teammates hired Isla as a matchmaker for me?”
“Yes.”
“They want me to have a date for the big team gala, so Isla and I came up with a clever plan. But you can’t tell anyone the details.”
She nods crisply, like a soldier. “I promise.”
“She’s no longer my matchmaker.”
“Your dad fired me,” Isla says, but with a teasing grin.
“He did?” Her jaw drops as she whirls toward me. “Dad, that’s not nice.” Mia latches onto Isla. “Say you didn’t fire her.”
Isla stage-whispers, “He so fired me.”
I heave a sigh. Isla is such a troublemaker. “We agreed she’d stop matchmaking me. And you want to know why, cupcake?”
“Why?” Mia asks, all protective of her new best friend.
“Because,” I say, then lower my voice to a whisper, “we’re going to pretend we’re dating. To fool my teammates.”
“Weird. You two already act like people who like each other.”
I blink, as if I’ve been knocked into the boards. Her assessment is scarily spot on. But I recover quickly. “Sure, she’s cool,” I say.
Isla snort-laughs. “Thanks. You’re swell.”
Mia rolls her eyes. “Well, now you both just sound like you’re faking it.”
Great. Now I’m getting dating advice from my nine-year-old. “I’ll do better. And of course I like Isla,” I say. “We’re friends. We went to the bookstore with her, and we set up her tree.”
“Right,” Mia says, a little wary. “So is it fake?”
I gulp, and now I do feel guilty. I’d thought I was including her in the truth, but I’m not entirely doing that. Wincing, I say, “We’re pretending for my teammates, but yes, cupcake, I do like spending time with Isla.”
There. That’s true.
Mia looks to Isla with question marks in her eyes.
“It’s the same for me,” Isla says, sounding…heartfelt.
My own heart feels a little fizzy over the way Isla’s being straightforward with my kid.
Mia nods a few times, seeming satisfied. “So he ‘fake-fired’ you,” she says to Isla, sketching air quotes.
“Which means I’m not dating a client anymore,” Isla adds.
Mia swings her gaze back to me. “And you’re lying to your teammates but it’s really a big prank. And I get to be in on it,” Mia says, then she beams. “I approve.”
That was harder than I’d thought, but easy, too, in the end. Mostly I’m relieved Mia knows as much as she needs to know.
We walk Isla to her car, and my matchmaker turned fake-holidate gives Mia a little boop on the nose. “Good night. And do an amazing job reading that chapter.”
“I will!”
I open the door for Isla, my gaze lingering on her chestnut hair, her flushed cheeks.
I flash back to the patio, the way she fell apart, how we talked afterward.
For a fleeting second, I’m wishing this thing weren’t pretend.
But I let that wish drift away like breathing in cold air.
“Good night, fake Christmas girlfriend,” I say, then what the hell. I drop a quick kiss to her cheek.
Her breath catches. “Good night, holiday boyfriend.”
She drives off into the night, and I watch her till the colorful lights disappear.
Funny, but those words—Christmas girlfriend—don’t rankle me like they might have a few weeks ago.