Chapter 36
PIP
The next morning, I grab Piglet and dash over to Rockefeller Center. Today's plan calls for Snickers, Piglet, and me to be photographed at the famous ice skating rink.
Kit’s already at the entrance, speaking with the wardrobe lady. The woman holds a cute skating outfit in one hand, and skates in the other.
After we exchange greetings and embrace, I look at her with an arched eyebrow and nod at the skates. “What are those for?"
"You'll be skating on the ice."
"But I don't skate! Can’t you just shoot me from the ankles up?”
“Nope," Kit says. “Clare wants you on the ice. I'm sure you'll pick it up very easily.”
As soon as the wardrobe lady gives me my outfit and skates, I turn back to Kit.
"Have you spoken to Clare? What did she say about that warning card last night? Did the kitchen crew see anything suspicious?"
Kit exhales. "Yes. One of the sous chefs remembers seeing a woman that fits Sara's description briefly in the kitchen."
"Ha! I suspected her all along! There you have it! Report her to the police."
"For what? Laying a card on a plate?"
"What if she sends another message, one that's lethal!"
"Relax, Pip. She hasn't reported to the set with the others. And if she does, we'll handle it then. Now let's get you in your skating outfit. Oh, and it would be great if you could put this on Piglet."
Kit turns, and hands me a doggie-sized pink skating outfit with a giant, tutu-style flounce at the bottom.
"Piglet is a boy dog!"
"We need pink frill to make the photo pop," says Kit. "He'll love it."
Piglet yips.
"I'm not so sure about that,” I say, as I head toward the restroom to change.
Ten minutes later, Kit helps steady me as I wobble my way to the skating rink entrance.
“Look, Snickers is already skating,” she says.
I follow her gaze. Snickers, dashing in his sleek black skating costume, pirouettes on the ice like a professional athlete.
Heat rises in my core at the sight of him.
But then I remember Keesha's words.
I curb my enthusiasm as I turn to Kit. "Wow. He looks so professional. As if he trained for the Olympics."
“He did compete when he was a kid,” Kit says. “But not at an Olympic level. Snickers just happens to be the kind of guy who's good at everything.”
“Ballroom dancing too?” I blurt this out as a joke, but Kit nods eagerly.
“Yes, ballroom dancing,” she says with a little laugh. “His mother was very old-school traditional that way.”
I watch Snickers skate—not just moving across the ice but almost dancing on its slick surface, every motion fluid and controlled. There’s a lot more to him than the arrogant DJ I thought I knew.
Snickers skates over, gliding to a graceful stop just in front of me.
“You look amazing,” he says, his dark eyes scanning my outfit.
I blink at him, expecting a snarky retort. But his gaze remains sincere.
“Thank you,” I mutter, feeling strangely awkward. “You don’t look so bad yourself. And if your DJ career goes up in flames and you get fired as CEO, you could always join a professional skating troupe. Maybe teach lessons to fifth graders?”
Snickers smirks. “I’ll take that under consideration.”
Piglet yips, impatient to be recognized.
"Hey, butch," Snickers says, ruffling his fur. "Why are you wearing a pink tutu?"
"Pink flounce photographs better," Kit says, reaching out for my Frenchie.
"Hand him over. I hired a dog wrangler to watch him between photoshoots. Now, Pip, go out there on the ice. Keep the flirtation lively. We're also filming this as a YouTube short."
She gives me a playful push.
Snickers holds out his hand. “May I?”
I place my hand in his, and to my surprise the simple touch steadies me. Step by step, I move across the ice, clumsy at first but gradually finding my rhythm.
“Hey,” I say, grinning. “I think I’m actually getting the hang of this! Look at me. Wow, I’m a pro skater!”
Snickers chuckles. “I wouldn’t quit your day job just yet.”
I laugh, feeling a rush of relief as I continue to take small, steady steps. The tiny victories add up, and soon I’m gliding by Snickers’ side with newfound confidence.
“Perfect, perfect!” Kit shouts, her face lighting up with excitement as her camera lens captures every moment.
Around us, paparazzi snap their own shots.
Snickers’ hand anchors me, steadying me as we move in unison.
The music changes, and for a split second, I imagine it’s just the two of us out here, away from the cameras, away from everything.
“I could get used to this,” Snickers murmurs softly, his voice just for me.
“Okay, guys,” Kit calls out. “It’s time for the money shot.”
“What does that mean?” I ask him.
Snickers’ lips twitch into a smile. “Kit wants me to kiss you.”
His hand drifts to the back of my hair, his touch so gentle it sends a shiver down my spine. Then, slowly, he leans in and presses his soft, yet firm lips to mine.
It’s a chaste kiss compared to the heated kisses we shared that first night. But unlike that night, I feel the connection between us so much more intensely.
"Now it's time for Piglet to join you, so we can have our 'happy family shot," says Kit.
A moment later, the dog wrangler places Piglet in my arms. "You look silly in that ridiculous tutu," I tell him, gently touching my forefinger to his snub nose.
Kit calls out instructions for Snickers and me to pose in different ways, Piglet usually front and center.
And loving the attention.
"Well, that's a wrap," Kit finally says.
Snickers tucks Piglet into the crook of his arm and skates us both safely to the rink’s entrance.
"Breaktime," Kit tells us. "Take five, then we'll set up for the post-skating snack at the Rock Center restaurant."
"See you then," says Snickers, skating away.
After removing my skates on a nearby bench, I pull my phone from my bag.
Keesha's sent a message with a happy face. Just sent out Piglet's picture on social media calling for adoption candidates. Ten responses in just under an hour!
I feel a twisting sensation in my gut. Not so fast. Not so soon!
Before I can text back, Kit approaches.
"Lookie here," says Kit, showing me a preview of the picture she took of the three of us together. "Priceless, right?"
In the photo, Snickers and I smile with blissful contentment. Even Piglet wears a silly little doggy grin. He has raised the soft pink pad of his paw to the camera in a friendly puppy greeting.
I swallow. In just a few days the magic will be over.
Piglet will have his new family,
Snickers and I won't be required to have any more fake dates.
And as gallant as Snickers was to me and Piglet on the ice, what if Keesha is right?
After all, if he fails to live up to his end of the contract, he'll lose his trust fund.
He has a vested interest to keep up appearances.
And keep me on tenterhooks.
Until after the wedding rehearsal tonight, when it's all over.
Over.
Beside me, Piglet yips sharply, then burrows his little face against my thigh.
It's as if he senses my mood.
"It's okay, Piggy," I say, my finger stroking the tender area behind his ear. "It's all going to be okay."
But is it really? Time will tell.