Chapter 14
PIPER
“What, honey?” Mom asks.
I let out a frustrated sigh. The last thing I wanted was to spoil their Christmas by telling them about my work situation.
“Piper?” Dad asks gently.
“Stanley Sr. is retiring, and the company is merging with another one in the new year. We’ll be competing for our jobs, and—”
“But you’re so brilliant!” Mom cries. “Of course you’ll win.”
I shake my head. “The guy who has the same job as me at the other company is the boss’s son.” I leave out the part about him also being the man I thought I’d be bringing home for the holidays.
“Oh.”
“And how do you think Brody can help with that?” Ethan asks.
It’s a valid question, but I don’t like how he delivers it, like he’s looking to find fault.
“I’m working on a campaign for an office printer,” I reply. “And I’m going to pitch the idea of having Brody promote it.”
Ethan scoffs. “Seriously? That’s your plan? As if he’d—”
“Hey,” Brody interrupts. “Piper’s helping me, and I’m going to help her.”
“Really? The famous Brody King, the face of a designer cologne, is going to put on a beige button-down and shill a printer?”
Brody hesitates, his eyes darting to Marv, and my heart drops. No wonder Ethan’s so scathing. It’s never going to happen.
“I don’t care what people think,” Brody continues.
“Really? But you care enough about what people think to be here playing happy families, don’t you?”
“Son,” John says firmly. “That’s not fair. Brody’s doing what he believes will help him land a job. It doesn’t matter what anyone says about that online. We know the truth.”
“Do we?” Ethan asks coldly.
I grip Brody’s arm so hard, I’m surprised my nails haven’t gone through the fabric of his coat. Why does my eldest brother always have to be so damn perceptive.
“Daddy,” Martha says with authority, “you’re being mean to Uncle Brody.”
Ethan’s expression cracks slightly, revealing the man beneath his gruff exterior, though it seems he’s still overwhelmed with unspoken thoughts and feelings.
“And what happens when you get this job?” he continues to Brody. “What then? You’ll just leave? Again?”
And there it is, the hurt beneath his harsh words. His best friend walked out of his life, and then his soulmate died.
Martha slaps both her little hands on the top of Ethan’s head. “Daddy! Time out!”
“Yeah, pumpkin,” he says. “You’re right.” His gaze passes over us, but misses Brody. “We’ll see everyone tomorrow.”
Without waiting for a reply, he strides away, Martha twisting around to look over her shoulder and wave goodbye.
We’re on Main Street, surrounded by people, but a heavy silence has fallen over us.
“I’m sorry,” Brody says hoarsely.
Dad rubs his arm, his brow furrowed. “No, son. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Mom is up on her tiptoes, still waving at Martha, her smile big but strained.
“Do you really think Brody can help you keep your job?” Harper asks me.
I shrug, feeling the weight of uncertainty press down on me.
I haven’t thought about my job today, but now reality crashes through me.
Come January, Brody and I will have gone our separate ways.
I’ll be sitting across a desk from my ex, and his new girlfriend will be the face I see each time I enter and leave the building.
I let go of Brody’s arm and shove my hands in the pockets of my coat. Ethan’s right. There’s no way he would advertise a printer. Brody’s trying to rehabilitate his image, not ruin it.
I just can’t believe I was so stupid to think that I was going to get anything out of this deal apart from the reanimation of my teenage crush.
Mom finally loses sight of Martha and faces Brody. “He’ll come around, honey.”
Brody nods, but a muscle in his jaw ticks.
“I’m off to find some more glogg,” Harper says. “Who wants the boozy one?”
Everyone raises a hand, except for Brody.
“I’ll help,” Mom says, before weaving through the crowds with Harper to the nearest stand.
“Do you think the crowds are as big as last year, Mr L?” Mia asks.
Dad’s face lights up. “Even bigger!”
I’m grateful for Mia steering the conversation onto neutral ground, keeping Dad talking and asking the kinds of questions Brody might want to know the answers to. It means I can keep quiet and let my mind ruminate in peace on what a fool I’m being.
Mom and Harper return with the hot glogg, and Harper whispers in my ear that mine has extra Aquavit in it.
I rarely drink, and now that I know Brody doesn’t, I’m hyper-aware of every sip of alcohol I take. However, when the Aquavit hits my bloodstream, it smooths away the rough edges of my mood.
But then it hits me—the memory of saying what a “great idea” it would be for us to kiss.
What the hell was I thinking? Clearly I wasn’t, just wallowing in sex hormones and allowing them to run the show. Brody’s a fantastic actor, and I’m … not. Just someone trying not to lose herself in the role of “fake girlfriend” like any other obsessed fan.
I squeeze my thighs together as I remember him kissing the top of my head, turning on nerve endings I didn’t even know I had. Did he want to do it?
He’s an actor.
The thought tastes bitter in my mouth, and I swallow it down.
We mill around as the race continues, then scream and cheer as Cody, Mia’s older brother, crosses the line first. It bodes well for their team in the wife-carrying championships, and Mia delights in reminding Hudson that they’re going to beat him again next year.
Then we wander through the town as the sun sets, heading into the main square for carols.
Hideaway Harbor is magical, but at Christmas, it’s even more special. The enormous tree is as tall as the surrounding buildings and covered in multicolored lights.
“How did they decorate it?” Brody asks.
“The fire department did,” Hudson replies. “We’ve got the equipment, and we’re not afraid of heights.”
“I don’t remember it being this big when we were younger.”
“It wasn’t. I think Dad just wants each year to be bigger and better than the last.”
A lump forms in my throat. That drive for something bigger … it’s not just in Dad.
After Brody left, a part of me left with him.
I’ve never really acknowledged it until now, but it’s true.
I wanted to leave Hideaway, travel the world, and experience places and cultures completely different from my hometown.
It wasn’t that I didn’t love it; I just yearned to see what else was out there.
But here I am, twenty-eight, and the only time I’ve ever left the country was a brief visit to see Harper in France last year. My job doesn’t pay enough for that around-the-world ticket I’ve always dreamed of.
Maybe I should let the idea go … even my New York dream, which ended up being Brooklyn anyway. I could move back here and go freelance from the financial safety of my childhood home.
I bite the inside of my cheek. Why does the thought of coming home feel like I’ve failed? And it just puts even more physical distance between me and Brody. At least when he’s across the East River, he seems closer. But when we get back, we’ll be as far apart as ever.
“Hey, what’s up?” he murmurs, his mouth close to my ear.
I press my lips shut and shake my head. People are lighting candles all around us, waiting for the caroling to start. It’s so freaking beautiful it intensifies the ache in my heart.
Taking my hand, Brody draws me to the back of the crowd, beneath the awning of a shop. The windows are lit up with a display so big that it blocks the customers inside, and those outside are facing away from us. Even though we’re in public, it somehow feels private.
Brody faces me, dipping his head as I lift mine. His eyes are a deep chestnut brown, the irises flecked with hints of gold.
“Please talk to me.”
I cross my arms over my stomach. “Do you have any intention of advertising the printer?”
There’s a pause, then he rubs a hand over his face. “Marv doesn’t want me to.”
“And you?”
He swallows. “I won’t let you down.”
“That doesn’t mean you want to!”
“I … I’ll do it. I promise.”
“But it’s stupid!”
“Not if it’s to help you keep your job.”
“But surely you can imagine what people will say?”
He shrugs. “It can’t be any worse than what they’ve said about me already. And if I get this job then it won’t matter.”
That’s true. I mustn’t lose sight of the fact that the only reason we’re both standing here is because Brody wants a new job and I’m desperately trying to hold onto my current one.
“I promise I’ll do it,” he repeats.
I nod, emotionally drained, as everyone behind us begins singing Silent Night.
Brody gazes intently at me. “Can I ask you a question?”
I swallow. There are so many he could ask, and a long list of ones I don’t want him to.
“That depends on what it is,” I reply, my voice wobbling.
He nods like he understands, then pauses, his eyes moving up and to the left as if sorting through his list of questions to find the one I’ll most likely answer.
Then his gaze falls back to me. “Can I see your art?”
Unfortunately, my brain decides to hear, “Can I see your arse?” said in a British accent, and I gulp.
“Piper?”
“Oh my god, I thought you said … never mind. I’m sorry. Um … Maybe?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “What exactly do you draw? Because now I’m imagining … well, I don’t know.”
“No! It’s nothing weird!” Much … “Or pervy!” Apart from the pictures I draw of you looking so hot I have to break out my rechargeable toyfriend …
“Then why do you look so horrified? You know I’ll think they’re amazing.”
You’ll also know I’m borderline obsessed with you … and have been since I was about twelve.
“I’m sorry about what I said in Love at First Sip,” I blurt out, trying to change the topic of conversation, but immediately landing on an even more embarrassing one.
He frowns. “What did you say that you should be sorry for?”
Oh god. “Ahahaha!”
His lips twitch like he’s trying not to laugh. “Piper?”
“When I said it would be a great idea for us to kiss … Funny, right?”
He freezes. “Oh, that.”