Chapter 11 #3
“But why did you feel like you had to bring a fake boyfriend to Thanksgiving?” She frowns. “And, um, where did you find … him?”
“Come on, you know Mom,” I grumble. “She’s been asking more lately when I’m going to settle down. Like, if I can’t have a graduate degree, I can at least get my M. R. S. or something. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to find someone.”
“It’s the family name,” she smirks.
Using one hand to rub my now aching forehead, I pull into the space by Connie’s car. “I’m kinda surprised we beat Chris home,” I mutter.
Connie scoffs. “You drove like a mad woman. Am I that bad to spend time with?”
Shame floods my cheeks. “No.”
“I actually like you, you know?”
Biting my lower lip, I smile at my sister. “Good to know. You’re, um … you’re actually my favorite sibling. You don’t make fun of me—of what I do.”
Connie tilts her head to the side, loose hair draping itself over her shoulder. “Why would I make fun of you?”
“Everyone else does.”
Raising light brows, she nods to herself. “The others don’t really dislike you, particularly, either.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Like I said, I think Chris is jealous—whether or not he’d admit it. Genny and Scott are just so wrapped up in their own worlds, they don’t really know any better.”
I shoot my sister a skeptical look. “Mom and Dad?”
Connie hesitates. “I don’t really know,” she admits. “But I do know that they were impressed by Oliver. Even if he did spend the evening dropping subtle hints that were overall pretty well-disguised, if I do say so myself.” She laughs.
I can’t help but wince. “Was he that obvious?”
“No, don’t worry about that.”
“Why do I sense a ‘but’?” I ask wearily.
“But … ” Cautious eyes find mine, “I do think it would help your case if Oliver came with you to Aspen Point.”
“You’re kidding,” I deadpan.
“There was a reason you brought him home in the first place, right?” she insists. “Well, I don’t think it would look great to Mom and Dad if it looks like you couldn’t make it work with the only man you’ve ever brought home other than Alexander.”
“No. No way.” I shake my head so hard my bun comes loose. “I can’t bring him with me. That wasn’t the agreement.”
Connie shrugs. “What exactly was the agreement, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Rolling my lips in and out, I weigh the consequences of giving Connie the skinny.
On the one hand, I could not tell her and keep whatever modicum of dignity may remain.
On the other hand, she already knows Oliver’s not actually my boyfriend, and that’s not really all that great.
So I give her the story from the beginning, ending with how awkward I left it when he dropped me off Thanksgiving night.
“Did you ever pay him?”
I knew there had to be another shoe to drop. “That’s embarrassing,” I mumble. “I wonder if he would take a check.”
Ignoring me, she continues, “I’ll take that as a no. So you didn’t leave it with any other plans to see him or his family?”
“Nope.”
“What about Blythe? You’re at pilates three to four times a week. And you said she now lives next door to Ian.” Crap, I’m gonna have to find a new workout studio. I’ve carefully avoided the classes she teaches, but I’ll need them soon to keep up my stamina.
A look I like to call ‘Callie’s about to be violently ill’ takes over my face.
“Got it,” she nods, needing no further explanation.
“Does it matter that he texted you about twenty minutes ago?” Connie holds up my phone with a message notification from the one and only Oliver Rhodes.
“He said you left your scarf in his car and he just found it today. Then he asked if you wanted to come by the practice tomorrow to retrieve it.”
My wide eyes look between her and the phone. Shaking my head, I take the phone from her and toss it in the cupholder. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why? Because it’s against the agreement?
The deal is over, Calloway.” Connie folds her arms. “Now, you can do whatever you want. But if you want Mom, Dad and the others to continue on this trajectory of ‘let’s be nicer to Calloway,’ then I think you need to go see him.
Tomorrow. Just mention Aspen Point to him—he may surprise you.
” Before I can halfheartedly disagree, my sister gives me one more knowing look before stepping out into the cold.
Familiar dread creeps into my chest as I walk up the snow-covered cobble walkway of Rhodes, McNalley & McNalley Therapy Collective.
At least I was invited this time.
The same bell rings above the door as the nosy Mrs. Lanahan looks up, smirking when our eyes meet across the reception area that suddenly feels much too small. “Lovely to see you again, dear.”
A timid smile breaks the frozen state of nausea on my face. But just as I open my mouth to defend myself, I hear him.
“Don’t forget to practice counting with the breathing.
I really think it’ll make all the difference.
Remember, we don’t always want to say what we’re feeling in the moment.
” Dr. Oliver Rhodes emerges from the hallway, looking as stupidly handsome as ever.
Apparently, my memory hasn’t done him justice since my hormones are halfway to the nearest closet and begging him to follow.
A woman in her forties with two teenage boys walk out with him, one of the boys listening intently to the man who was my fake boyfriend. The sullen teenager nods in confirmation.
“Great,” Oliver claps the boy on the shoulder. “I’ll see you all after the holiday, okay?”
The family says their goodbyes, walking right past me.
But Oliver finds me immediately. His shoulders relax, like tension has kept him prisoner all day. A grin brightens his face. “Callie, you came.”
“I texted you that I would,” I remind him.
He strides right up to me, hesitating only when he’s within breathing distance.
It’s an odd thing, seeing someone you pretended to date. What are you supposed to do for a greeting? Kissing seems a little weird, since we were never actually romantically involved. Even if we did kiss in front of our families. Hugging seems oddly casual. Shaking the guy's hand just feels wrong.
Oliver blinks a couple of times before settling on, “Why don’t you come back to my office? Do you remember the way?”
“She doesn’t have an appointment, Dr. Rhodes,” Mrs. Lanahan calls in protest from her perch.
Oliver grins down at me as I march past him toward his office. “It’s okay, she’s my girlfriend.” He snickers, catching my eyebrow raise.
Only when we’re in the safety of his office do I say, "Girlfriend, huh?”
He shrugs, closing the door behind him. “Eh, it’s the least likely excuse to be questioned. And it’ll make her leave you alone, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate.”
Snorting, I drop into the familiar loveseat. “You got that right, Dr. Rhodes.”
“We’re not back to that again, are we?” Oliver leans against his desk, crossing his arms. Between the cozy feel of the office, his rolled-up sleeves and today being a glasses day, my hormones are literally crying right now.
“Nah,” I laugh, “it just felt right.”
He swallows, cheeks tinting. “So .. how have you been? How is … everything?”
“Everything is … getting worked on,” I admit. “Things with Connie are better. We actually rode home together last night from the family dinner.”
“Wow, that is better.” Dark blond brows raise. “Was Chris in the car, too?”
I scoff. “Definitely not.”
Oliver chuckles, leaning down to grab his bag. “Didn’t think so,” he shrugs, “but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.” He frees my favorite scarf from his bag, offering it to me. “What did you and Connie talk about the whole time?”
“Are you being nosy?” I grin, taking the scarf.
“Maybe.”
I sigh. “We talked about her feelings for Aaron—”
“Wow.”
“I know, right? Um … ” I knot the scarf around one of my hands as a distraction of what I now have to tell him.
Oliver frowns from his own chair. “Callie? What is it? What’s wrong?”
Pressing my lips together, I look anywhere but at the handsome therapist sitting in front of me. “Well, you see … she was telling me about how she thinks Chris is jealous … of us.”
Across the tiniest office known to man, Oliver squints as he waits for whatever’s coming next, nodding slowly.
“And I may have admitted, uh, everything.”
He freezes. “So Connie knows.”
“Yep.”
“Everything?”
“Everything. But it really all came up because Mom asked if you were coming with us to Aspen Point Lodge this year. Otherwise, it’s very possible it never would’ve come up.” I flinch, waiting for his outrage, his embarrassment.
But it doesn’t come.
“Aspen Point?” he asks, confusion coating his features.
“Uh, yeah.” I frown. “It’s this fancy lodge up in Honeyville—”
“I know where it is.”
“Okay, well, you just looked confused so … ” The scarf may now officially be cutting off circulation, but I don’t really need that hand, anyway.
“My family goes up there every year for Christmas. Then we always come home for a few days before Dad’s firm has their annual New Year’s party there, which we always attend.
” I don’t bother hiding my annoyance at the obligation.
“Your family goes to Aspen Point every year?” he asks slowly.
“Yepper pepper.”
Those sculpted lips press together, suppressing a grin. “What did you tell them?”
“About what?”
“About my coming with you.”
Picking at a loose thread on the couch, I do my best to hide the hint of disappointment threatening to make itself known in my voice. “I told them you were going with your parents to Boston to see your grandma.”
Oliver nods slowly, my heart stupidly sinking a bit more with each pass.
“So anyway,” I lock eyes with Oliver, willing myself to think about the new plant babies I know will be coming my way soon from Ian and Aaron, “how do I pay you for your services? Cash? Card? Check? Twenty boxes of designer chocolate?”
His face never changes. Not even when he says, “I think I should go with you.”
My heart stops. I’m dead. No longer among the living. Gilmore is on his own. Goaty will never be covered in stray glitter again.
“As long as you’re okay with it, of course.” Oliver quirks a brow. “Callie?”
“W-why?”
“If it’ll help you, why wouldn’t I do it?”
“We’d have to share a room.”
“I think I’ll manage.”
I sit up straighter. “What about your family?”
Oliver shakes his head with a dark and quiet chuckle. “Funnily enough, you got that one right. They are going to Boston.”
Huh. My brows knit together. “Blythe?”
“She and some friends are going to Mexico.”
“Lucky girl. I’d love to go sit on the beach for Christmas instead of being with my family,” I mutter.
“Hey—” Oliver leans forward, elbows resting on his knees “—I know for a fact that you won’t be alone with your family this Christmas.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” He smirks. “I heard you’ve got a pretty great boyfriend that’s coming with you.”
The smirk I mirror back fades as I lean back into the couch. “But our deal … ”
Oliver rolls his chair across the small space, taking my hands in his. “Callie, I promised you we were in this together, right?”
Nodding, I do my best to ignore how the warmth from his hands runs through the entirety of my body. How desperately I want him to hold me close like he did in front of our families. “Right.”
“So, we’ll just keep up the pretense through the holidays.” Titling his head, Oliver beams. “If something with my family comes up before Christmas, you can attend if your schedule allows. And I’ll accompany you to Aspen Point.”
Releasing a dramatic sigh, I feign only mild satisfaction. “I guess that would be easier than finding a new fake boyfriend before then.”
“Undoubtedly,” Oliver grins. “So, my beautiful cocoa connoisseur, what does the rest of your week look like? Anything family-holiday related I can crash?”
“I have my class’ holiday program tomorrow,” I offer, ignoring how intently he’s listening. I’ve never received such full attention before. It’s a little unnerving. “I invited my family, but Connie is the only one who usually shows up.”
Oliver twists to grab his phone. Pulling up December seventeenth on his calendar, he opens a new event. “What time?” His voice is patient, sincere.
My brows try their hand at joining my hairline. “You want to come watch my kids act like reindeer?”
Oliver, the handsome man that he is, grins. “What are fake boyfriends for?”