Chapter 51 Match This
MATCH THIS
ISLA
This sucks.
As Aurora and Eloise wrap a board game for Toys for Tots, Eloise nudges me. “So you’re going to the gala tonight with the new boyfriend?”
I wither.
Why didn’t I think of this teeny, tiny detail? The whole town thinks we’re together. What now? I guess we’re doing the we’re just friends excuse, but I left our failed date so quickly yesterday I didn’t think it through.
And really, I don’t want to think about it now. So…I improvise. I’m a problem solver, after all.
I cough. It’s an artful cough. A little barky. It has all the harbingers of Christmas crud in it. “Excuse me a sec,” I say, then wince. “I hope I’m not coming down with something.”
Their eyes pop in worry. No one wants to be sick at Christmastime. “I’ll be…right back.”
I dart down the hallway to the ladies’ room, texting Rowan as I go.
Isla: The town thinks we’re together. Are we still saying we’re better off as friends?
But as soon as I hit send, my annoyance spikes. He dumped me. I don’t need his permission to fashion an excuse. I write again.
Isla: Scratch that. I’m saying that. Consider this a heads-up.
Rowan: I’m sorry I put you in this position. Please say whatever makes it easier for you.
My heart aches from the kindness in his message. But also? Screw him for being thoughtful.
I march back to our table, chin up, smile tacked on all the way. “I’m fine. Just a little frog in my throat. All good.”
“You sure?” Eloise asks, concerned, and maybe a little suspicious.
“Positive,” I say, then I dial up the sunshine meter inside me. “But I’m not going to the gala. Rowan and I decided we’re better off as friends,” I say as breezily as I can. It’s not totally a lie. But it does work as a shield, and that’s what I need.
“Oh, you did?” she asks with concern.
“It’s for the best,” I say, smiling and smiling and smiling some more. “Oh, would you look at the time? Here comes the mayor to announce who won. Yay.”
That megaphone is a lifesaver—it distracts my teammates from any more questions.
Now, if I can only slip away without seeing Rowan again…
But you don’t always get what you want.
The Ice Queens take first overall, with us taking second, and Oliver’s wrapping is so creative that the Grinches win first today and third overall.
That means it’s picture time.
Kill me now.
When it’s time to smile for the cameras so the whole town knows what a great time we had at the Best in Snow Winter Games Competition, the photographer urges me to stand right next to Rowan.
“The two lovebirds,” he says, and I want to shout he’s a lovebird who pooped on my head.
But I behave, inching closer to the man who broke my heart.
Our shoulders touch. A traitorous zing shoots through me.
But I ignore that too.
Fable’s at the front of the crowd, her arm hooked with her husband’s. I can hear her say to him, “Look—another Evergreen Falls love story. This town just has that effect.”
Wilder kisses her cheek and says, “It sure does, sugar plum. It sure does.”
And I fake it one more time for the picture.
But really, I brought this on myself.
I might not be going to the gala as the fake or real date, but I’m damn well using the chance to leave my business cards in the blind-date packages. Work was there for me when JD left. Work will be here for me now again.
After the contest, I go straight to A Likely Story, where I snag a table in the corner of the adjacent café. There I wrap the books, my friends joining me—Mabel, Sabrina, and Leighton.
I slice a section of butcher paper like the scissors are a weapon, then I rip off a long stretch of tape.
That’s enough for Leighton to say, “Are you okay?”
I look up, befuddled. “I’m great. Why wouldn’t I be?”
She nods at my hand. “Because that tape is twenty feet long.”
I look down. Hmm. It is.
“And that’s not like you,” Sabrina adds. “You’re precise and careful.”
“You mean I’m obsessive and fixated,” I say, eyeing the mess of tape.
“I think she means we’re concerned about you,” Mabel adds. “What’s going on?”
I sigh, then set down the scissors and the roll of tape. A knot of emotions rises in my throat. Then climbs higher. And I swear—it explodes.
“He broke up with me,” I say, and that’s all it takes. The tears rain down, streaking my cheeks as we sit here in this quiet corner of the café, just my friends and me.
“Oh, honey. What happened?” Mabel asks, reaching for a tissue from her pocket and handing it to me, right as Leighton and Sabrina do the same.
“I love you all and your tissues so much,” I say, sniffling and taking them.
I dab my face, then spill out the terrible story of the snowstorm, and the plan for sushi in San Francisco, and then the s’mores date yesterday and the things he said that ripped me to pieces.
“And he said he felt all these things for me he hasn’t felt in ages, but he’s afraid of taking a chance, and I get it.
I do. He doesn’t want to get his daughter attached and then get hurt because she’s been hurt and so has he.
So I said I understood, and I even volunteered to still go to the gala with him. ”
Mabel gives me a look like I just suggested we eat paint for a snack. “Why in the ever-loving hell would you do that?”
“To be helpful?” I say. No, I ask it, because why the hell did I?
“You don’t need to do that,” Leighton says, so certain and self-assured.
“But I’m a helpful person.”
“And you don’t have to help a guy who hurt you after you told him how you feel,” she says.
I freeze, then gulp. I guess I didn’t exactly spell it out. “Um…about that.”
Sabrina sighs heavily. “You didn’t tell him how you feel?”
I rewind to the scene of my heart being slashed. “I said I understood. I said he didn’t ruin the holiday for his daughter. I said, There’s no guarantee in relationships. But you hope for the best. And you try.”
They all blink a few times, as if they’re taking that in.
“So you gave him matchmaker advice,” Mabel confirms.
My heart twists. When she puts it like that…“Well, he was hurting.”
“But did you put your heart on the line?” Leighton presses, gentle, but firm at the same time.
I look down, feeling sheepish. “No, I didn’t.” It comes out as a quiet confession.
“Maybe you should,” Mabel says.
I snap my gaze up. “Why? So he can hurt me?”
“No. So you can be honest with him—but also with yourself,” Sabrina says. “You weren’t sure you’d be ready to date after JD. Are you holding yourself back from going all in in case Rowan hurts you too?”
Am I? Her question hits close to home. To the close-held fears of my heart. I try to picture telling Rowan how I’ve fallen, but that sounds like a recipe for pain. I prefer pleasure, thank you very much. “I don’t know…”
“Think about it,” Mabel says. “He said he feels all these things for you. You’ll never know if you can work past this unless you tell him you do too.”
And I hate that she’s a little bit right.
When I leave, the books in tow, I head straight to the chalet in Evergreen Falls.
I march into the ballroom where the gala will be held tonight.
If I slip in and drop these off now, I won’t run into anyone.
I’ll deliver the books, then wallow in Christmas cookies tonight at my parents’ place while watching one of their favorite holiday movies with them. After I tell them what happened.
And I will. I’ll come clean. They’ll understand why I did what I did. Why I said what I said.
I set down the books on a table by the doorway, glad to be done with this errand. But on the way out, I turn the corner in the hallway and run nearly smack into my brother.
Yup. Fate hates me. Big time.
“Hey,” Jason says. “How’s it going? You ready for the final…” He scans the hallway like he’s a sniper. “Fake-date tonight?”
I don’t even know what to say. The town thinks we’re real. My brother knows we were faking it. But I won’t even be there this evening. I can’t exactly tell him we’re ‘just friends’ now and we fake, but real, broke up before the gala.
Except…wait. I can, sort of.
“I was,” I say, all carefree and footloose. “But you know what? We realized it wasn’t necessary. Rowan’s perfectly capable of handling the gala solo. In fact, I recommended it. It’s what he needs most in the world.”
Jason’s brow furrows. “Seriously? You’re a matchmaker, and you believe that?”
“Sometimes,” I say, lifting my chin, “you make a match with yourself.”
When I return to the unloved shack, ready to pack up and go rot at my parents’ house for the night until I can finally hightail it out of town—and I plan on peeling out of Evergreen Falls like my wheels are on fire.
Ironic—Christmas is usually my favorite time of the year, but now that I’ve been dumped the night before Christmas Eve…
looks like I’ll be focusing on work again.
As I get out of my car, ready to head inside, I spot a small red gift bag on the porch.
I pick it up, and my heart skitters. Inside is a box of salted caramels and a note. A lump rises in my throat as I reach for the card.
Maybe it’s a let’s try again note?
But I instantly berate myself for even wanting that.
With tentative fingers, I open the card.
I know the bet was for coming in first, but since your team beat mine, it only seems fair that you get these. Also, I just want you to have your favorite things.
“But you were my favorite thing, you stupid idiot.”
I take out a salted caramel and bite into it, but the sweetness doesn’t erase the bitter.