Chapter 20 #2
Scoffing, I put the poles in their place, much as I wished I could do with my emotions.
Telling Nolan I wanted to explore things with him for real would open me up to an inevitable crushing rejection.
He would never leave Cressida, and I would never expect him to.
It was easier to keep him at a careful distance—or, it had been before last night got me all jumbled up.
God, I wanted to go home and hide in my room.
But then a gut-wrenching realization hit me.
“Oh my god, we live in the same house. With his fiancée. I orgasmed in front of him, because of him, and now I’m just supposed to go back to living in his house like nothing ever happened?” I slumped into a rickety chair. How was I even supposed to act around him and Cressida?
“Did he say he wanted to pretend like nothing ever happened?”
“We didn’t discuss it,” I hedged. I wasn’t sure if Nolan would be okay with me clueing Frankie in on his fake engagement, so I distracted her. “Just promise me you’re still in for tonight? Don’t make me face Cressida’s Christmas-palooza on my own.”
“Oh, I am so there. Wouldn’t miss the chance to drink some fancy booze and watch you turn into a tomato of bright red embarrassment all night long.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Any time.”
“Do you think they give you fancy pajamas at rich people sleepovers? I’ve always wanted a pair of monogrammed silk jammies,” Frankie said as she trudged beside me through the fresh-fallen snow toward Nolan’s house.
Snorting, I said, “Cressida does seem like the type.” But inside, I was a hurricane of nerves. Did Cressida know that I knew her secret? I really should have done a better job interrogating Nolan over coffee this morning.
“Where’s Nolan?” Frankie asked as we mounted the shoveled front steps.
“He’s staying in the lodge. Knowing Nolan, he’ll probably spend the evening drinking scotch with Hugh.”
“Dude’s got a man crush. Actually, both of them on each other, now that I think about it.”
As I reached for the doorknob, it twisted underneath my hand and Nolan stepped outside with a rakish grin. “Hugh is handsome,” he said, “but he’s not my type.” He pinned me with a heated gaze, stealing my breath.
Frankie watched us with an openly bemused expression. “That’s pretty clear.”
Nolan cut a sideways glance at her while all I could do was stand there as if I’d never encountered another human being before.
“See you both tomorrow,” he said. “Hopefully the house survives the aggressive festivities Cressida puts it through.”
Breaking out of my stupor, I said, “Hopefully we survive.”
“Touché.” As he passed us, he touched my wrist so lightly I wondered if I’d imagined it, but the look of possessiveness in his eyes had my knees knocking together. He’d claimed me in front of Frankie, and he didn’t give a flying flapjack if she noticed.
“Well this oughta be interesting,” Frankie remarked.
Warmth blasted us as we entered the house to the sound of cheerful holiday music.
“Holy shit,” said Frankie, taking in the scene.
Cressida had been busy. It looked like Christmas threw up everywhere—although tastefully.
A fire crackled in the hearth and the place was bursting with festive decorations.
Even a perfectly shaped tree stood proudly in the corner, sparkling with white lights and golden ornaments.
Looking like Queen Elsa herself, Cressida stood at the island wearing a matching set of frosty blue pajamas, her white-blonde hair twisted into an intricate braid.
Beaming at us, she said, “Come in! I’m just making the punch.
Go and sit.” Unscrewing a bottle of Grey Goose, she upended the entire thing into a massive crystal bowl along with a handful of frozen strawberries.
Frankie nudged me, saying, “I like her already.”
A peal of laughter pulled my attention to the living room where two women lounged on the sofas.
One of them, a Black woman in mint-green pajamas with tiny Christmas trees on them, passed us each a glass of pink liquid with some floaty fruit bits.
Fixing me with an infectious smile that immediately put me at ease, she said, “You must be Val and Frankie. I’m Daphne and that’s Cora. ”
The blonde woman who was a carbon copy of Cressida, just a few years younger, wadded her hair atop her head into dual space buns, then took a big gulp of her drink. “Hate flying, so you’ll excuse me if I got the party started a little early on the way here.”
“All good,” said Frankie, sliding into the seat beside her. “We’ll catch up.”
Sipping on the sweet, strong drink, I sank into a pile of seasonal pillows placed artfully around the table. “Want a hand, Cressida?”
“Nah,” she said, approaching with a bowl of popcorn and plopping down next to me.
As I hadn’t had dinner yet, I was already starting to feel the punch, so I stuffed a handful of popcorn in my mouth.
It also gave me something else to put in my mouth besides my foot.
“Just waiting on the cookies to be done and the pizza will be here soon. Fresh punch is ready for you, Cora, once you guzzle your way through this batch. Should I get a spiral silly straw?”
“Yeah, I’ll take two.”
As the group laughed and chatted around me, my nerves about spending time with Nolan’s fake fiancée vanished.
Well, the alcohol buzzing through my system helped a lot.
It had been a while since I’d felt comfortable in a group of women—or a group in general.
With the exception of Frankie and Hugh, I preferred spending my free time alone after extroverting all day at work.
But a cozy night in with this welcoming group of women? I actually like this.
When a ding-dong at the door heralded the pizza delivery, Cora raced to retrieve it while Cressida got the cookies.
In a matter of minutes, a spread of all the best junk food piled high on the coffee table.
As we dug in, Daphne’s phone pinged and she groaned, stuffing the offending square between the couch cushions.
“I recognize that look,” Frankie said. “Who’s the guy?”
“Just Anton Alistair. Again,” she said, tossing her braids over her shoulder. “God, he won’t stop hounding me about Nolan’s schedule even though I told him he’s unavailable forever. The guy is persistent.”
“Yeah, persistently into you,” Cressida noted.
“Is that the dude who looks like if Thor was an asshole businessman? The one I saw at the Christmas party last year?” asked Cora as she bit off the head of a gingerbread man.
My eyes widened as Frankie voiced what I was thinking. “He sounds very hot and very bangable.”
“He is,” Cressida said, grinning at Daphne’s glare.
“He’s a pain in my ass, is what he is,” said Daphne. “Never mind, what about you, Cora?”
“What about me?”
“Let’s speculate wildly about your love life so I don’t have to talk about my imaginary one.”
“Don’t have one either. Mom and Dad keep trying to set me up with this Silicon Valley imbecile, but my—ah, let’s call it rebellious—nature is a bit of a turn-off for guys like that.”
Cressida laughed. “Yeah, they don’t want to end up swimming in the bay like the last guy.”
“If he didn’t want to get hip checked off the pier, he should’ve thought of that before grabbing my ass without permission.”
Frankie gave a low whistle and raised her glass. “I like you.”
Cora clinked her glass, winking. “Love your necklace, by the way. Where can I get one?”
“She made it,” I chimed in, glowing with pride and punch, everything edged in the warm and fuzzies. Maybe I should slow down. Gingerly, I placed my glass on the table.
“You made it?” Cressida asked. “I know plenty of people who would pay big bucks for something like that.”
Touching the delicate black spikes dripping from the chain at her throat, Frankie shrugged.
“I haven’t made anything in a while. It’s hard without a regular workshop.
I make other things too. Swords, knives.
I tried an axe once but couldn’t get the blade quite right.
I could really use an apprenticeship with a metalsmith. ”
The other women sat forward, eyes bulging, but none more so than Cora. “Dude. You are the coolest person I’ve ever met. Please let me be your prodigy. I’m dying for my own personalized battle axe.”
“That would certainly make headlines,” Cressida said. “‘Heiress decapitates date with monogrammed designer weaponry for mansplaining bitcoin.’”
“Jokes aside,” Daphne said to Frankie, “If you ever wanted to take on any new commissions, I could connect you with some of Nolan’s associates.”
“I’m a little out of practice, but I’ll keep it in mind.
Thank you,” Frankie deflected with a kind smile and a glance at me.
Making fancy jewelry for rich people wasn’t Frankie’s style.
She’d always harbored a dream of opening her own shop where she’d use locally sourced materials to make affordable jewelry and weapons for live action role-playing groups and Renaissance fairs.
As we all drank another round of punch while a sappy Hallmark Christmas movie played in the background, I felt more at ease than I ever had.
And I liked Cressida. I always had, but with this magical strawberry punch taking the edge off, I could actually see myself being friends with her, as weird as that sounded.
I was still tied in knots over everything and I wanted to talk to her about it, but now wasn’t the time.
A phone ringing interrupted my thoughts.
“Anton again?” asked Cora.
Daphne shrugged but then I caught sight of Cressida. Her face had gone bone white, her phone clutched in a shaky grip as she stared at it with wide eyes. Like she didn’t even see it.
“Cress?” Daphne reached over, sliding the phone from her hand. UNKNOWN NUMBER showed on the screen and Cora sprang into action, gripping her sister’s hands in both of hers, ice-blue eyes bright as the hottest flames.