Chapter One
“No man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive.”
When Harry Met Sally
Ivy
“Hey, there. Isn’t it like, the middle of the night where you are?” I asked Jack as soon as I answered my phone.
Jack was on location in Europe filming a romantic comedy called The Leading Lady Problem.
He claimed he’d never connected more with a character in his entire career.
Not sure why. The only problem he ever seemed to have with all the leading ladies in his films was that he couldn’t help himself from dating them and then breaking up with them.
Sienna Davenport was the exception. They kept getting cast in films together and were Hollywood’s latest on-screen “it” couple. Sienna seemed to think that meant they should be an actual couple, so they had this weird revolving-door relationship that I wasn’t exactly fond of.
Truth be told, I couldn’t stand Sienna. She treated Jack like he was a baby, and, worse, she whined like one when she didn’t get her way. But Jack never failed to give in to her when they were together. It was disgusting. I felt queasy just thinking about it.
Before Jack could respond, I put him on speaker and kept packing for my trip back home to Aspen Lake for the holidays.
I would leave the next night after work, and I couldn’t wait.
There was nothing more magical than Christmas in Aspen Lake.
And I was getting there just in time for all of Mom’s week-before-Christmas traditions and would be there until the day after New Year’s.
I’d saved up most of my vacation time for this trip.
To make it extra special, my entire family would be there this year.
“Actually, I’m in Atlanta, about ready to catch a flight home. I thought we could spend the holidays together,” he responded.
I froze mid–sweater fold. “Uh . . . that’s sweet.” And totally unexpected.
Jack hated the holidays. Weird, for a guy whose last name is Holiday. But his dislike was seriously on a bah humbug level. Unfortunately, he’d never gotten to discover the magic of the season as a child.
He didn’t like to talk about it much, but as far as I could tell, Jack had had a pretty messed-up home life, and my heart ached for the things he had shared and especially for all the things he hadn’t. So, I felt bad when I had to remind him of my trip.
“Um . . . did you forget I’m going home for the holidays?”
Two glorious weeks of getting my holly and jolly on.
“I thought I would go with you,” he coughed out.
Say what?
“Why would you want to do that?”
Also, I wasn’t exactly sure I wanted him to come. Don’t get me wrong: I loved Jack. You know, platonically. Like so, so platonically. That was right—seven years later, I was still proving him wrong.
Regardless, the thing was . . . When I was with Jack in public, or anywhere for that matter, it was chaotic.
He was way too famous for my own good, and probably his, but he loved the attention.
Even my family fawned over him when they came to visit me and he happened to be in town.
You should see the googly eyes my sister Paige and my mom gave him.
And even my brothers and dad thought they were best friends with him.
“Aren’t you the one always trying to convince me that Christmas is magical? I thought I would finally let you prove it to me.”
“Yes, but you’ve always said there would be no convincing you. Like, ever.”
“Come on, Ivy. You love a challenge and to prove me wrong,” he goaded me. “So here’s your chance.”
“Except I’ve already proven you wrong on so many occasions,” I sang. “In light of the holiday spirit, I’ll pass this time,” I said, hoping to let him down gently.
“What? You don’t want me to go with you?” He sounded hurt—genuinely hurt. “I had the production crew move things around so I could be with you.”
I flopped on my bed and grabbed a pillow, squeezing it, guilt coursing through me as I imagined Jack turning my cozy family Christmas into The Mr. Holiday Show. Not that he would mean to. Okay—maybe he would a little.
“It’s not that. I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable for the next two weeks.
I’ve told you how crazy about Christmas my family gets.
My mom makes us wear matching sweaters and pj’s every day, and we don’t just build gingerbread houses—we build mansions.
And there’s the Santa mystery gift challenge, where you have to make a homemade gift for the person you draw out of the Santa hat.
And don’t forget: Anyone caught grumbling or bah humbugging must wear the Grinch hat of shame for a day.
Do you really want to wear the Grinch hat, Jack? ”
Surely, he would grumble about any or all of the activities just mentioned. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Jaquelyn Wells, a.k.a. best mom around, had an itinerary for every single day. Christmas was serious business for her.
Jack laughed. “I think I could talk your mom out of the hat.”
That was probably true.
“Jack, what’s brought this on?”
This wasn’t like him. At. All. I couldn’t tell you how many times over the years I’d tried to get him to believe in the wonders of Christmas.
I’d even bought meaningful gifts for him, thinking it might help, but he’d adamantly refused to accept them.
Normally, he just booked some tropical vacation alone or with his flavor of the season—so long as she didn’t like the holidays either—and didn’t return until after the New Year.
He barely even contacted me during the holidays.
So this one-eighty of his was disconcerting, to say the least.
A heavy silence settled between us.
“Jack, are you okay?”
His reticence worried me. He loved the sound of his own voice—and to be fair, his slight drawl was nice.
“Ivy,” he whispered with a hint of trepidation.
Now, I was really freaking out. Jack was never hesitant. Never afraid.
Worst-case scenarios flooded my brain.
Was he dying? Marrying Sienna? Oh, dear Santa, please no. Anyone but her.
“I just thought I should try to love the things you love.”
Oh. Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. I lay back on my bed, dazed by his sincerity and sweetness. Best. Friend. Ever. How was I supposed to say no to that?
“Okay, you can come. Are you sure you really want to do this? I don’t want you to be miserable for the next two weeks.”
“I won’t be. And yes, I’m sure. I booked us two first-class seats for tomorrow night.”
“Wow. Presumptuous much? And I already bought a ticket.”
“I wasn’t worried about you saying no. And this seat is better. You’re welcome.”
“Still chugging that arrogance juice, I see.”
He laughed. “Every day for breakfast.”
I sat up and rolled my eyes. “Listen, buddy, if you’re going home with me for the holidays, you’re going to have to keep your god complex to a minimum. This is my hometown, not your kingdom, Jack.”
“You mean your hometown where the rich and famous go to play? That hometown?”
I scrunched my face. “Yes, that hometown,” I said, annoyed.
Aspen Lake might be a playground for the rich and famous, but to me, it was just home—the place I grew up, the place that always felt like my haven.
There was a reason I had never taken Jack home with me. Aspen Lake was where I could go and just be me—not Mr. Holiday’s best friend. Don’t get me wrong—I loved being his friend. But sometimes, it was a lot.
Especially when I felt completely out of place in his world—full of glitz, glamor, and impossibly polished people. Honestly, sometimes I felt like a plain Jane among his dazzling Hollywood crowd.
“It’s hard to keep my crown hidden, but for you, I’ll try.”
“You know, sometimes I wonder how your neck supports your enormous head. Please remind me why we’re still friends?”
He chuckled. “According to my trainer, my neck is freakishly strong. And we’re friends because you adore me and I know how to make you laugh and smile—even when you pretend I don’t.”
He got me there. I did adore him. It took some time to get there after our initial meeting, but he’d won me over to the dark side. Or, well . . . his side.
“Jack, just promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Just promise me you won’t pretend to love Christmas for my sake. It’s too special for that.”
He stayed quiet for a few beats, and I half expected him to take it all back.
“I’ll do my best—but honestly, isn’t it a little chivalrous that I’d be willing to fake it for you?”
“I don’t think that’s the definition of chivalry,” I said, laughing. “Maybe Santa should put a dictionary in your stocking.”
“I already asked him for something else.”
“You did? What?”
“I can’t tell you, or he won’t bring it.”
“Pretty sure you’re confusing that with birthday wishes. Those have to stay secret.”
“If he brings it, I’ll tell you.”
“What happened to you in Europe?” His sudden obsession with Christmas and Santa was downright unnerving.
“I’ve just had a lot of time to think, that’s all. I want to make some changes.”
“Should I be concerned?” I asked, definitely concerned.
“Don’t worry that pretty head of yours. I’m fine. We’re going to have a great time. I’ll be sure to grab some OREOs for you.”
OREOs were my go-to snack—whether I was traveling or just indulging on a regular day.
“Thanks. I’ll bring some sudoku puzzles for the flight.”
The best part of Jack’s childhood was his grandma Ruth. She loved sudoku puzzles—because of that, he did too. I was lucky enough to get to know her before she passed away.
Grandma Ruth was a character—sharp-witted and always ready to push her agenda. Every time I’d visit her tiny home on the outskirts of Austin, she’d ask when I was finally going to make her grandson an honest man and marry him.
I would laugh and tell her we were just friends.
She’d smile, eyes twinkling despite their dimming gray hue, and say, “That’s how the best relationships start.”
And right on cue, Jack would cut in with some smart-aleck remark, like, “Ivy, you really ought to be ashamed that you haven’t fallen for me yet.”
Then I would roll my eyes and respond, “Oh, jeez, with comments like that, I wonder why.”
I knew, without a doubt, he didn’t feel that way about me. That wasn’t something he would keep secret—I mean, hello, he had a revolving door of women. And he would love to prove me wrong and tell me we couldn’t be friends anymore because he had romantic feelings for me.
Grandma Ruth would laugh and say, “I can’t wait to get a wedding announcement.”
Jack would kiss his grandma’s head with a melancholy air, as if he knew she’d never get the pleasure of seeing him get married. But while it wouldn’t be to me, I knew someday Jack would find the right woman who was up for the challenge of loving him and his impossible ego.
I only hoped she didn’t want to push me out of his life.
“You’re the best, Ivy.” Jack interrupted my thoughts. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I can’t wait.”
That was mostly true. I had missed Jack, and between his filming schedule and his usual holiday avoidance, I’d thought I wouldn’t get to see him for another month. But it would be a lie if I said I wasn’t worried about how this was all going to go down.
I had a feeling this was about to turn into the most Mr. Holiday Christmas ever. Heaven help us all.