What else can I say to convince him? Only one plausible reason I can think of. “No,” I admit. “But you were the best-looking one.”
I don’t even think I’m lying right now.
My answer seems to have satisfied him. He smiles, forcing all the air out of my lungs. Now I get what breathtaking means.
Using basic yoga training to steady my respiration, I ask, “Then we have a deal?”
He offers me his hand. “Deal.”
After we shake on it, he pulls on his coat and guides me out of the Santa closet.
“So how is this going to work?” he asks once we reach the mall exit.
The cold night air hits us the moment we step outside. It’s freezing, and I’ve already had enough excitement for one day. So I say, “It’s late now. Why don’t we discuss the details tomorrow over lunch?”
“Okay.”
“You’ll find a missed call from me on your phone from about an hour ago. I’ll text you a place in the morning.”
“All right, boss.” As he says “boss,” Diego winks at me. Then he turns around to climb on a monstrous black bike that he starts with a roar. “See you tomorrow.”
I watch him put on a black helmet and speed away into traffic. I can’t believe he even has a bike. I really picked the perfect man for the job.
***
The next day, I’m the first to arrive at the restaurant. I’ve picked a taqueria not too far from my office, but not too close, either. The last thing I need is to run into a colleague while I’m negotiating contract terms with my fake boyfriend.
Wow, I still can’t believe I’m doing this, and that someone else has joined me in this crazy plan. I stare at the list of “hot topics” I’ve printed out, not sure Diego has grasped the full extent of what he agreed to yesterday. Might be my fault for being accidentally-on-purpose vague enough not to scare him away, but today I need to be one hundred percent assertive about what I want out of this deal.
A change of vibe inside the restaurant makes me lift my head. The normal tones of conversation have quieted down to be replaced by intrigued murmurs. At the table next to mine, the two women who’ve been bitching non-stop about their boss since I got here are now giggling, eyes fixated on the entrance door. I follow their stares, and my gaze lands on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Smoldering Hot.
Hair ruffled up in all directions, Diego is standing on the threshold scanning the tables, presumably to find me, and mostly unaware of the attention he’s commanding from the entire room. Clad in a pair of light-washed jeans, a black leather biker jacket, and with the matching black helmet propped under his arm, he’s the incarnation of the bad boy in every woman’s fantasy.
I wave to attract his attention. He spots me and reaches our high table in a few quick strides—not surprising with that impressive leg span. While he sits opposite me with a quick, “Hello,” I steal a glance at the two women sitting next to us and am ridiculously pleased with the vitriolic looks of pure envy stamped on their faces.
Ah, hell. For once I’m not the single lady having lunch alone, I’m the woman dating the hottest guy in the room—possibly the entire New York state—and who cares if I have to shell out a few thousand dollars for the privilege? Money well invested. I can’t wait to stick it to my family for once. To have one glorious Christmas before I become the official family spinster forever.
“Hi,” I greet him back. “Did you find the place all right?”
“Yeah.” Diego settles his helmet on the empty stool between us. “Been here before.”
We lock gazes for the first time since he arrived, and for a second, I have to steady myself. Today is a surprisingly bright day for December, and the sun is hitting Diego’s face with just the right light, turning his eyes into two sparkly emeralds.
I clear my throat. “Err, great.”
Good thing he’s not my type at all. I prefer blue eyes and blonde hair, and guys with a stable job. Guys like Paul, in short. And Diego sits at the opposite end of the male spectrum. At least there won’t be any risk of confusion on my part. And I’m sure on his, too. I don’t know what kind of woman is his type, but she must be a few leagues above me in the looks department.
“Are you ready to order?” I ask.
“Yeah, I—”
“Hello, I’m Adalynn, and I’ll be taking care of you today,” an eager-looking girl interrupts us. She’s sporting the smile of a server who’s just won the table lottery. “Would you like to hear today’s specials?”
Diego smiles back at her and says, “Sure.”
“Wonderful.” From the way she beams, you’d think he’d just agreed to go on a date with her. “Today’s special tacos are the lobster with sweet corn, and fried duck with habanero honey. If I may suggest one, the duck is really something special.”
“All right.” Diego smizes, eyes as mischievous as in his pictures. “The duck one sounds great.”
“Excellent choice. And to drink?”
“A beer, please.”
After giving him another small smile, she turns toward me, her enthusiasm fading. “And for you?”
“A chicken taco and a Diet Coke, thank you.”
“Perfect. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
Adalynn isn’t kidding; I haven’t even struck up the nerve to broach the fake-boyfriend topic when she returns with our drinks. Setting them down, she throws Diego yet another smile and says, “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Reluctantly, she walks away, finally leaving us in peace.
“So,” I start, a little nervous. “Thanks for meeting me here today.” Oh, come on, Nikki. No need to be nervous. Just treat him as any model or actor you would in one of your productions. Yeah, right. I’ve got this. “I wanted to go over the details of this job before we sign a formal contract… Did you have questions, or would you like to hear me out first?”
Diego leans his elbows on the table. “I might have too many questions. Best if you outline the ABCs first…”
“Oh, okay.” I stare at the first item on my list: comp. “As I said, the compensation is a flat five thousand dollar fee, all included.” Better remind him why he’s here. “As for the specifics of the job, we need to script the basics: how we met, first date, a few cute anecdotes… stuff like that. And we have to familiarize ourselves with each other to improv the rest. Our interactions must be as natural as possible, and that’s why I thought…” I hope he swallows this without protest. “…you should move in with me.”
His eyebrows shoot high into his forehead. “Move in with you?”
“Yeah. We have to act as if we’ve known each other for a couple of months, at the very least.” If I’m doing this, I’m doing it right. “I have to learn your tells, you have to learn mine, and living together is exactly the crash course we need. You would have your own room, of course.” Once I convince Blair to let you sleep in her bed, anyway. But she’s moving out soon, so it shouldn’t be too hard for her to crash at Richard’s until Christmas.
“You’re a bit paranoid, you know? We don’t need all that preparation to pass for a couple for one dinner.”
“One dinner?”
“Yeah, the Christmas meal? Isn’t that what we were talking about?”
“I’m not paying you five thousand dollars to have one meal with my family. You have to come with me to my hometown in Connecticut for a week.” His eyes widen, and I already see him ready to backtrack and call everything off. But I can’t let him. I’ll never find someone as perfect. I mean, he even rides a bike! So I edge another sheet of paper toward him. “And as per the final part of our agreement, these are all the brands we’re shooting Super Bowl ads with, and that I could get you castings for.”
Diego stares at me with an appalled look, followed by a questioning side glare of who-is-this-crazy-person-I’m-having-lunch-with? Then he lowers his eyes to the list, and his expression switches to mmm-these-brands-are-really-cool-and-how-many-people-watch-the
-super-bowl-again?
I’ve just delivered an exemplary carrot-and-stick performance. He’s in.
“I still think moving in together is too much,” Diego says, a tad too loud.
The ladies to my left look up at us open-mouthed for a second, and then snicker between themselves. And even our server seems to have a satisfied little smirk on her face as she deposits our plates on the table. Wow, this man can really bring female rivalry to a whole new level.
“Maybe,” I say, pointedly lowering my voice. “But I can’t risk either of us slipping up in front of my family, not even on the smallest thing. And what are you complaining about? I’m offering you a free stay in Manhattan for two weeks.”
Before he has time to come up with a thousand plausible reasons not to move in with the crazy cat lady, I push my point. “And anyway, I’m at work twelve to fourteen hours a day, so we wouldn’t clash too much. And you’d be free to come and go as you like, with no more long commutes. From my apartment, you can get everywhere in Manhattan in fifteen minutes on the subway. You can go to your Santa gigs, or go to castings, or whatever it is you do all day.” I still read doubt in his eyes, so I end with a cocksure, “It’s non-negotiable.”
I try to keep a straight face as panic rises in my throat. If he bails, I’m fried. I will have to confess my lies to my mom and suffer the greatest humiliation of my life.
He stares at me for a second, back at the brands list, and then sighs. “Ah, hell.” He grabs his beer and takes a long sip. “In for a penny…”
The air leaves my lungs, and I relax for the first time since I got here. At least now I know I have a potential second career as a poker player.
We eat our lunch in silence. It’s one of the most awkward meals I’ve ever had. All the more reason for him to move in—this is exactly the sort of thing we need to fix before the holidays.
When the bill arrives, I slip my credit card into the folder and sign the receipt once the server brings it back.
“How was your taco?” I ask Diego, trying to break the ice.
“Bit too fancy. I should’ve stuck with the classic.”
“Aw, don’t tell our server, she’s going to be crushed.”
Diego gives me a brief smile, and then the awkward silence is back.
After a few eternally long moments, he asks, “When do you want me to move in?”
“Tonight, if you can. The sooner the better.” I grab my phone and text him the address. “That’s me,” I say. “Whenever after 8 p.m. is fine.”
“Great. Anything else?”
“Ah, yes.” I fish a brown manila envelope out of my bag and slide it across the table toward him. “This is for you.”
He looks skeptical again.
“What’s this?”
“The first half of your payment,” I reply, nonplussed.
Diego chuckles and shakes his head. “You brought an envelope full of cash?”
“Yeah, why? What did you expect?”
Still grinning, he says, “I don’t know, PayPal?”
Oh. That would’ve made a lot of sense, actually. I guess I got a bit caught up in the movie stereotype. I blush and shrug, getting up. “I can do that if you prefer.”
“Nah,” Diego says, also standing. “Cash is fine.” He makes the envelope disappear into an inside pocket of his jacket.
“Okay, then, see you tonight.” I don’t know if we should hug, or kiss on the cheek, or whatever… We’ll need to decide what our thing is, but for now, I simply give him a professional nod and stroll out of the restaurant without looking back.
Five
Santa Claus Is Coming To Town
Heading home now
A new text from Blair.
Want to do something fun tonight?
Yeah, to get to know my fake boyfriend better.
So Blair will be home tonight. Good, as I need to catch her up on my crazy decisions of the past two days. And bad, as afterward, I need to convince her to traipse all the way back to Brooklyn on a cold December night.
Great, almost there myself
We need to talk
Oh, okay
Everything all right?
Yeah
Just promise to keep an open mind
Now I’m curious
Hints?
No can do
You wouldn’t believe it anyway
More radical than the hair?
Definitely
Should I be worried?
No
Just open-minded
Wish I had my running shoes with me
This train is way too slow
See you at home
Blair is the only person I’m going to tell. A, because I can trust her, and B, because I have no choice if we’re driving to Old Saybrook, our hometown, together. Our families live across the street from each other, so she’ll need to corroborate my fake romance.
I get home first and set Blair’s favorite herbal tea to steep. We’re going to share a mug, and she’ll come on board. Or maybe I should spike her mug with booze.
Five minutes later, just as the tea is ready, the key turns in the lock and Blair walks in.
“Gosh, it’s freezing out there!” she says. “Oh, great, you made tea. Just what I need right now.” She kicks off her heels, drapes her coat on the back of the couch, and takes a stool at the kitchen bar.
I fill two mugs from the other side of the bar and hand her one. She wraps her fingers around it to warm them and studies me. “So, my favorite tea, huh? What’s going on?”
I’m ready to confess, when she continues, “But before you say anything, I spoke with Richard and we’ve decided we don’t have to push the moving in together thing. Definitely something we’ll think about in the new year. And I’m going to spend more nights home, I promise.”
“Err, actually…” I take a sip of tea. “I kind of need you to do the opposite.”
Blair’s eyes widen. “What? Why?”
“I’m having a house guest and I need your room.”
“Who?”
I plaster an innocent smile on my face. “This is the part where you keep an open mind…”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Nicola Addison Moore, what have you done?”
“I’ve hired someone.”
“Like a housekeeper?”
“More like a fake boyfriend.”
Blair chokes on the sip of tea she was drinking and sputters it all over the counter. She tries to ask questions but can only cough and spatter. I take advantage of her momentary inability to talk and say my piece. “And it might seem crazy, but I can’t go home single and pathetic this year. Paul is going to spend the holidays at our place because he’s family now, and I can’t survive a whole week under the same roof with them by myself. My mom wanted to give them my room, my bed…”
Blair’s face is still super red from the choking, and even if her eyes are still teary, I can tell she can speak now. Only she doesn’t seem sure what she wants to say. She shakes her head, drops the mug on the bar, and starts massaging her temples. “Okay, let’s pretend for a second I don’t find this whole idea completely absurd, and that I’m keeping an open mind.” She looks back up at me. “Who is this guy? Where did you find him? And you asked him to move in? In my room? Without even asking me?”
I lean back against the stove, keeping the bar between us in case she decides to throttle me. She’s right, I should’ve at least asked her first, but I was desperate, and that’s what I tell her. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do…”
“But why do you need to live together?”
“We have to fool my family for a whole week, and it needs to be a good act… so we need to appear comfortable around each other.”
“But who is this person?”
“An actor. I hired him off the KCU’s database.”
“Have you worked with him before?”
“No.”
&
nbsp; “So you’ve invited a complete stranger to live with you?”
“Desperate times, desperate measures.”
“But he could be a psycho, a rapist, a serial killer.”
“I’m sure he’s none of those things.”
“Yeah? How sure?”
“You can tell for yourself. He’ll be here in…” I check my watch. “Half an hour.”
“WHAT?” Blair shoots up from her stool and starts pacing around, shaking her head. “He’s coming over tonight? But where will he sleep?”
“The couch? I thought you were spending the night at Richard’s.”
“And what if I were? You would’ve let him sleep in my bed without even asking?”
“Oh, come on. We’ve always used each other’s rooms to host friends and family when the other was away, without asking.”
“Yeah, right. Friends and family, not complete strangers who—”
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” I raise my voice as tears of frustration fill my eyes. “Be the good girl, go home, and let Julia have everything she wants? Hasn’t she taken enough from me? I won’t let her win this time.”
“Okay, let’s calm down here.” Blair’s face softens. “The engagement and Paul joining your family for the holidays have been huge shocks. But is hiring this dude really the only answer?”
“If you have a better idea that will let me keep my sanity and my room back home, shoot…”
Blair goes to sit on the couch, and after a moment I join her. I can almost hear the wheels in her brain turning, trying to find an alternative solution. But after five minutes of scrunching her face and staring into space, she turns toward me, defeated.
“I’ve got nothing,” she huffs.
“See? I’m not crazy.”
“Apparently not. What do you need from me?”
“For you to get on board with the plan and pretend you’ve known Diego for a few months—”
“Diego?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Surname?”
“O’Donnell.”
She types both into her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving his generalities in case you disappear and the police need them.”
A Christmas Date Page 4
