Chapter Four
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Adalynn
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The smell of Christmas hits me in the face and fills me with sweet nostalgia from when I was younger. I always loved Christmas despite being a disaster most of the time. The last couple of years? Not so much.
“Hello there, darling,” my mom says, waiting for me. “Oh, don’t you look lovely,” she adds, hugging me. No, I don’t, but my mom is sweet and kind, and I guess as an only child I could be wearing a bag over my head, and she’d still say I looked pretty.
She links her arm through mine and drags me to the main living room, where everyone is already gathered, all cozy in front of a roaring fire.
“Look, everyone, it’s Adalynn.” She announces my arrival as if I were someone important.
My dad grabs me in a tight bear hug first.
“Hey, kiddo,” he says, kissing the top of my head, then hugging me again. “How’s my girl? How’s business?”
“Hey, Dad,” I say, smothered against his anchoring chest, fighting to breathe. My dad is a sports guy. He does a good job of covering up the fact that he had hoped I was a boy, and if he thought he could turn me to sports, he stopped when I caught the ball with my face.
I did try, but honestly, I couldn’t catch a ball if my dad handed it to me. Since then, he’s had two sets of questions for me: How’s the book? And now: how’s the business? Still, he loves me, and I love him right back.
“Oh, and how’s my future sons-in-law now that the cat is out of the bag?” he asks, just stopping himself in time from winking at me.
Oh god. Clearly, I’m not a very good liar. There were way too many other components that I didn’t think through. It was so much easier in the romance novel. Of course, my dad has to know; it’d be absurd if he didn’t.
I glance helplessly at my mom, and she gives me an encouraging smile.
“They’re great,” I say, forcing my lips to spread into a smile. “Just very busy with... umm... business.”
How am I going to survive the next couple of days? Why, oh why, did I not just accept sitting with the kids like the loser I am?
With my stomach in knots, I go around the room hugging everyone and their mother, fielding questions about the men I claimed temporarily as future husbands without their knowledge as noncommittally as I can.
Of course, besides my parents, my two other favorite people are my uncle Jim and his partner Uncle Ralph. They just tease me about being in a quadruple, having my own reverse harem, and only I could pull that off. I’ll definitely be telling them the truth as soon as I get them alone.
I spend the rest of the time with my nieces and nephews who I just adore and avoid all the grownups.
Still, no one is gladder than I am when, after dinner, it’s time to retire.
And I’ve been designated the closet, of course.
It’s fine. I actually wish I could hide in here until after the holidays, then sneak out the back, go live my life as normal until the next holiday season arrives, because rest assured, I still won’t be married by then either.
I drop my bag on the fold-up bed-couch situation, then catch a glimpse of myself in the huge mirror stuck to the wall.
What fun. I’ll be able to see my misery in three-dimensional vividness. But the light, which flickers, catches on the ring on my finger, so now I have astounding shame to go with my misery.
Before I start getting self-righteous about how I could lie so badly, I take a shower and tell myself repeatedly that I did it in the act of self-preservation, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Trying to get to sleep is something else, though. The bed is lumpy, I hate being here, and I’m hungry. Eventually, I do fall asleep and wake up with a crick in my neck.
I’m barely out of the shower and fully dressed when I hear my delightful cousin’s voice.
“Oh, Adalynn, are you in there? Stop hiding like a mouse and come out, or you’ll miss all the fun I planned for today.”
First, Ines, I just got here like five minutes ago—okay, last night, but still. I didn’t have the time to hide. I haven’t even unpacked yet.
“Ha, there you are,” she says, clicking her fingers when I open the door. “Come on. I have a surprise for us. Quick, quick.” Ines looks like a damn winter princess in her white wool dress, white boots, and perfectly applied makeup. She dazzles so much my eyes hurt.
I had to plans to finish reading my romance novel in front the fire in the main living room. I tried to read on the way here, but I was way too anxious to concentrate on anything. Well, I better go and do what Ines wants me to do.
I make a move out of the room, but she stops me.
“Seriously, you’re going out in your pajamas?”
I look down at my brown slacks and lift the hem of my brown sweater.
“I’m not wearing pajamas.” Although... I can see what she means.
“I swear I will never understand how you managed to get three billionaires to propose to you,” Ines says, shaking her head before she comes to stand directly in front of me. The already tiny room feels crowded. Her sharp eyes cut through me. “Or did they?”
“I don’t know what you mean...”
Wait, is that the crap the fully unprepared fan has been anticipating? So soon already?
“Oh, I’m kidding. Or am I?”
I feel sick. No, just be calm. She knows nothing. Still, I would have had a better chance of pulling off lying about being engaged to my seventy-seven-year-old neighbor than I would to three billionaires.
I just need to play it cool. She’s messing with me. How would she even find out?
The surprise Ines has prepared is a breakfast tea, except it’s not a normal breakfast tea. My gaze makes a beeline for the buffet table though filled with sweet treats that makes my stress eating water for a taste.
“Okay, lovely people, everyone take a seat. I’m so excited to get started,” Ines says, taking command of the room.
Everyone is dressed in their prettiest clothes, and I’m the drab one out. Maybe if Ines had told me beforehand to pack an extra nice outfit besides Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas lunch, I would have... probably swapped my slacks for my brown skirt. Yeah, there might not be any hope for me.
While I was hiding in my closet masquerading as a bedroom, Ines had transformed one of the reception areas—the pink lounge—into a... wait, what is this? Why is the theme all hearts and flowers?
There’s a banner hanging above the fireplace that reads, “Love is the season to be jolly.” There are balloons everywhere and heart-shaped confetti.
Lots of pictures of all the couples are pasted onto a board and hung against a wall.
I shudder at the sight of my own picture. That’s just Ines level mean.
But it’s Christmas, not Valentine’s Day. Did she get confused or something?
Whatever. Who am I to complain when there are actual macarons to consume and oh, little donuts... okay, they’re heart-shaped donuts, but I’m still going to eat them.
“Okay, so I thought I would start a new tradition for us all. As you can see, I call it ‘Love is the season to be jolly.’ I thought that since I’m so happily married and so madly in love with my brand-new husband, we should also make the holiday a little more romantic.
We can never have enough romance, right?
Also in a bit, our true loves will join us and we’ll each get a chance to kiss under the mistletoe.
Am I going to kiss hot air?
Oh no, I already hate where this is going.