Chapter 39
THE MIND WIPE SOCIETY
ISLA
I call a meeting in the morning at the Candy Cane Diner. I simply have to after the other night and cheering him on at the game last night. I can’t walk around with this knot of guilt in my stomach any longer. I need to clear this weight from my shoulders before our next date this evening.
My brother knows some of the truth. My parents have figured out part of the story. It’s time my friends knew everything too.
Sabrina, Leighton, and Mabel arrive at the booth. Mabel just arrived in town to check out the competition and to meet with Aurora for some bakery advice—she’s thinking of opening her own soon.
Right now, they fill the booth one by one, chatting about Christmas plans, where they’ll be staying, and who’s wearing what to the gala.
Sabrina turns to me. “Which raises a very good question. What exactly will you be wearing to the gala?”
That’s a good question. It’s a great question.
When Rowan went to morning skate yesterday, I did a little shopping. I found a sequined silver dress—sleeveless, long, sexy, and fun. But it also makes me sad.
Because the gala is our last date. The trouble is…my friends think it’s the start of something.
“So…here’s the thing,” I begin.
Mabel sets down her menu. “Anything that starts with ‘here’s the thing’ means a confession’s coming next.”
She knows me too well. And she knows—maybe better than anyone—how I feel about Rowan.
I swallow roughly, set my hands on the table. “I need your vow of secrecy.”
“Obviously. This is the mind-wipe society,” Leighton says.
I take a deep breath. Nerves rush through me. I half-wish I weren’t saying this. But I need to tell them. “We’re fake-dating.”
Mabel’s brow furrows. “Really?”
Leighton cocks her head. “You are?”
Sabrina just blinks. “But…why?”
My stomach plummets, but I nod. “It’s just for the gala.”
“You’re faking it for that?” Leighton asks, her voice equal parts disappointed and intrigued.
“You really can’t tell anyone, especially anyone on the team,” I add, my tone making it clear I mean they can’t tell their guys. “But yes. He needed a date for it, since the team is making everyone go.”
“How did this happen?” Leighton asks.
I swallow past the tight knot in my throat and start at the night of the auction, when he picked up my Holly Jolly martini and drank from the same spot I did and my mind started racing.
The Christmas tree farm, when I imagined Rowan kissing me.
How he helped with my tree both at the farm, and back at my apartment even though it wasn’t his thing.
But he did it for me. And of course the cookie swap and that kiss.
“You all saw it. How tense I was trying to set him up with other women but wanting him for myself too.”
I catch them up to speed with Evergreen Falls, and our night dancing at the Candy Cane Diner, and onto the Christmas train, and the Love Shack, and even the morning after when he made me an omelet. “With mushrooms,” I add.
Mabel whistles. “Damn. Does he know how deeply you love those little fleshy spore-bearing fungi?”
“Yes! Like a bear loves honey. And there was coffee too.” I pout, then drop my head into my hand. “It was everything I wanted, and he did it for me. Fine, maybe he was trying to prove we’ve been fake-dating for a while—since we have this whole bet going on—but still, he did it.”
Mabel waves a hand dismissively. “Whether he did it for a bet or not, who cares? Like you said, he did it. And actions speak.”
“They sure do,” Leighton says.
“And really, it hardly seems fake then,” Sabrina puts in.
I let out a long breath, my heart hurting. “It’s…complicated.”
“Because it sounds like your feelings might be real,” Leighton says gently.
“They are.” My voice wobbles. “But we made a deal. He doesn’t want anything more.
And I…I’m just going to be okay with that.
In fact, I’m going to need your help when it ends.
Because I think I’m going to miss him,” I say, since this romance is barreling toward heartbreak, and I can’t seem to get out of the way.
“We’re here for you,” Sabrina says.
“Always,” Mabel adds. “You can’t get rid of us ever. We’re like plastic in the ocean.”
I laugh, then rest my head against her shoulder. I needed that.
And I need them.
This—this right here—feels like how I’ll get through the fake-breakup that’s coming my way sooner than I want it to.
When we leave, I feel lighter, freer. I say goodbye to the crew, then make my way to the bakery to meet up with my teammates in a little while. This afternoon they’ll be competing in storefront decorating, which I plan to help them ace.
I’m picturing clever ways to string lights on the Mistletoe Emporium and the Play All Day toy shop when I bump into my brother coming out of Rudy’s.
My cheeks heat as I remember my night with Rowan there, but I immediately attempt a mind wipe.
Too bad my mind reminds me that Rowan kissed me at the game.
There was nothing fake about that kiss. But Jason must understand that fake-dating requires real kisses.
Do I need to explain that kiss to him? I don’t want to, so I seize the moment before Jason can. “Let me guess. You’re buying Rudy’s for Natalie for Christmas?”
My brother lifts a finger to his lips. “Shh. Don’t tell a soul.” Then he nods to the coffee shop. “Actually, I was meeting with the GM for the Sea Dogs.”
Of course that’s his job. But it sounds ominous. “You were? Is someone being traded?”
Like Rowan. Please say it’s not Rowan.
“No,” he says, laughing. “But Clementine—the GM—wanted to thank you for all the work you’ve done for the team. Like donating your services for the Nutcracker Auction and such.”
I smile. “That’s nice of her.”
“She said you’re welcome to leave a few cards at the gala, if you want to promote yourself.”
I nod, but the idea of business cards at a black-tie event feels…wrong. My gaze drifts to the bookstore across the street, and an idea sparks. “How about I set up a little ‘Blind Date with a Book’ station instead? I’ll tuck my card inside each book so it’s a gift and a promo.”
“Even better,” Jason says. “Very you.” He checks his watch. “I need to take off in a minute. Natalie wants to do some present wrapping, then we’re going to watch the storefront decorating together, and what Natalie wants—”
“Natalie gets,” I say, repeating his mantra.
But before he goes, he studies me for a beat, his earlier mirth burning off. In its place is a familiar set of his jaw, a concern in his eyes. Uh-oh. He’s about to go all big brother. “How’s the whole…dating thing going? Sure seemed like you two were putting on a good show last night.”
Butterflies swoop in my belly. Annoying things. “Great,” I chirp.
“Yeah?” It’s asked like he doubts me. Or more like he’s worried about me.
“Absolutely. I’m so happy to help,” I say, practically transforming into a chipmunk.
“Yeah, you’re always so good about that. You’ve really given this your all,” he says, then frowns. “I said this to Rowan, but I’ll say it to you too. I’m sorry if I pushed you into this.”
He’s apologizing? Guilt slithers through me. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I love hard work. How else would I learn to deal with difficult clients without having one?”
“Rowan’s a tough one,” Jason says, dragging a hand through his neat, dark hair. “I’m usually good at reading him. I thought he was ready, really ready, to try again. Maybe not at first, but as he was going along…” He gives another resigned sigh. “Guess I was wrong.”
I feel sick to my stomach. “Some people…just don’t want to fall in love.”
“Truer words,” he says, then smiles, pointing a thumb at his own heart. “Not this guy. I’m more than happy to be smitten.” His gaze drifts down the street to his wife, who’s walking toward him, looking disgustingly in love too. “Speaking of…”
“Go, go,” I say, shooing him along.
He joins her, and they head in the other direction. I stand in the middle of the sidewalk, trying to blink away the reminder of Rowan’s walls. I already knew that about him. He’s been abundantly honest with me from the start. Still, Jason’s assessment hurts more than it should.
There’s only one surefire way to move past it. Focus on work. I don’t need to be at the bakery for another fifteen minutes, so I swing into A Likely Story, plotting the blind dates, and texting my friends to see if they’ll help me prep everything the day of.
They all say yes—a reminder that they’ll be with me no matter what. I remind myself, too, that Rowan is like a vacation. You can still enjoy your time in Hawaii even if it’s going to end.
Rowan is my Hawaii. That is all.
Later that day, after the Sugar Plum Ladies win first place in storefront decorating—thank you very much—I’m back at the Love Shack, getting ready for my sleigh ride with Rowan.
I want to make the most of these last few nights.
By now, I’ve learned one important thing about fake-dates with Rowan: always wear a skirt.