Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
His expression exposes that divorce affects children even when they’re adults. “Your parents—”
“Are not like yours, Kelsey. Yours have their shit together. Mine…” He scrubs at the back of his neck while softly sighing. “They’re a fucking disaster.”
“Then I guess I shouldn’t tell you that the first time my mother walked down the aisle, she wasn’t standing across from my father.” With Zane shocked into silence, I can continue my story without interruption. “They were initially not meant to be, but fate…” A chuckle breaks up my reply. “And if you believe my father… Santa was responsible for their union.”
“Santa?” Zane asks, his tone high.
Even confident he will never look at me in the same way again, I nod. “He was even their witness.” When it dawns on me that I sound like one of those weirdo Christmas freaks like Noelle, I shove Zane out of my apartment before muttering, “So if I haven’t scared you off, and you still want me to be your plus-one, I’ll see you tomorrow at two.”
I miss his presence the instant I close the door in his face, but I keep my hopelessness hidden by not responding to his offer until he gallops down the stairs of my building. “You know where to find me if you need me before then.”
Only once the steel door at the front of my building slams shut do I dance like no one is watching. I bump and grind across the polished floorboards in the living room, the sauciness of my moves tripling when Zane’s voice breaks over the “Ho, ho, ho” booming through my open living room window.
“And if you don’t know the way, just keep an ear out for Santa. I’m sure he’ll point you in the right direction.”
13
KELSEY
Itry to utilize the first solid alone time I’ve had in three years well. I respond to a handful of messages I received that veered away from their disappointment to my heartache, cancel the gift registry before more family members get stung purchasing Noelle’s expensive additions, and then draft the speech I plan to give my parents one week from today. It’s the day they are due to fly to Oregon and includes details about their new itinerary.
I’ve achieved a lot, but I’d be a liar if I said I’m not bored out of my mind and wishing I hadn’t told Zane he broke my coochie.
If he didn’t need to be with his family, I would have been halfway to his hotel by now.
Luckily, my morals still linger even when I want to be a harlot.
Confident I’ll die of boredom if I live this life every day, I open the finance section of a local online newspaper. I sent some feelers to possible clients earlier this week, but I’ve yet to hear anything back. It is understandable when you remember Christmas is only eight days away.
I haven’t bought a single gift yet, and I’ve been unemployed for days, so imagine the to-do list of people who work sixty-plus hours a week.
My eyes bulge when I realize the seriousness of that last thought.
I haven’t bought a single gift, and Christmas is only eight days away.
Shit!
My parents are easy. I could give them socks and they’d be as happy as pigs in mud, but I’ve been scrolling online stores for over an hour and haven’t found a single suitable present for Zane.
What do you buy a man you know intimately but have only recently become associated with?
I can’t get him nothing—that’s just scroogie—but I don’t want to go overboard either. I did that for Peter every single celebration, and all I ever got were broken promises.
To keep with the theme of our… whatever the hell this is… I need to make sure Zane’s gift is funny but functional. Reasonably priced but shows I put some effort into picking it out.
It also needs to be…
My thought process trails off when a faint “Ho, ho, ho” trickles through my open bedroom window.
“Yes!” I shout to myself when I come up with the perfect gift. “Then he can eat as many candy canes and drink as much hot chocolate as his heart desires.”
No one bats an eyelid when Santa downs a million calories in one night. He has an entire year to burn off the calories, so we let him prepare for hibernation with a heap of naughty foods.
It takes an hour to find a replica of the suit from the Santa Zane swears is stalking him. It’s from a specialist dressmaker in Canada, but with express shipping, it should be here in time for Christmas. I just need to input my credit card details.
I practically skip into the kitchen to fetch my purse from the drawer. I’m so excited that the glitzy sparkle of my engagement ring compliments to the overhead lighting above my kitchen cabinets doesn’t hurt as much as it once did.