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Our Totally, Ridiculous, Made-Up Christmas Relationship

Page 3

by Brittainy C. Cherry


  The handsome guy helps me, apologizing for not paying attention; but, now I’m a little worried about my ring that went flying. That’s a five thousand dollar ring! Okay, maybe one thousand. Five hundred? Hell, okay I saw the same one for two hundred and fifty dollars at Walmart during Black Friday, whatever.

  Bending down to pick up the ring, handsome guy beats me to it; and I am lost in the moment as he’s down on one knee, holding the ring up to me. My mind melts, forcing me to lose all my common sense. “I do!” I scream. His brows raise, and my hands fly over my lips, “I mean I do need to get going with that.” Awkward laughter starts now, but I don’t know if it’s coming from him or me.

  When he hands it to me, he smiles this stunning grin; he must definitely be an actor auditioning for the toothpaste commercial. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

  “Oh, I’m not engaged, yet. But he did this really cute thing this morning; it’s a pretty darn adorable story actually...” I laugh, and the stranger stares at me with a blank expression, waiting for me to share. “Okay, well, I woke up, and found out that he left the ring under my bed for me to discover.”

  A short laugh escapes his almost closed lips, “You mean he dropped it under your bed?”

  “Ugh! What is it with people and all of these stupid technicalities?” I mutter, snatching the ring from his hands. His smile grows bigger, and I would almost hate his smugness if his eyes weren’t all sultry and dreamy.

  “Well, good luck with that.” He turns away to walk back over to the lobby and my hands land on my hips.

  “I don’t need your luck! I am getting engaged! It’s a done deal pretty much. So screw you, and the old people, and my mother, and my sister, and Danny, and all of your stupid technicalities which have nothing to do with me and my soon-to-be husband!” I shout.

  When everyone in the room pauses and stares at me as if I grew another head, I know it’s time to leave. I rush outside toward my 1999 Honda, ready to hit the road to my apartment. “Keys keys…” I jumble my hands through my tiny purse—which I bought because I thought it would keep me from losing crap. What a lie.

  The roads are a bit slippery, but the hardcore snow storm isn’t suppose to hit until midnight, which is exactly why I want to jump in the car with my honey, hit the road, and travel down the highway to hell.

  I open my apartment door, ready to rub Richard all up in nasty Danny’s and Lisa’s faces. “Babes, I’m back! Stacey tried to get me to stay at the office but I told her how overly nervous I am about taking you back home with me to meet the folks. Did you pack our toothbrushes? That’s okay, I’ll grab them.” I see Richard moving around in the living room, fidgeting back and forth, searching through the sofa cushions. My heart smiles when I see him on the hunt for what I believe is in my coat pocket.

  “I already know,” I whisper, and he turns toward me, crossing his arms across his chest. His eyebrow arches and he waits for me to explain. I smile, pulling out the engagement ring. “I think it’s sweet. I know this isn’t the way you probably wanted this to go, but that’s okay. I’m fine with this.”

  A heavy sigh falls from his lips and he runs his hands through his hair. “Jules, I was having panic attacks here! I thought you would be so pissed! We both knew this wasn’t going anywhere, right? I mean, we met as I was leaving a strip club with my buddies.” He heads for the bedroom and I follow after him, all kinds of confused.

  “Wait, what are you talking about?” I pause. “You said you were only at the strip club for your friend’s bachelor party.”

  He gives me such a strong you-are-freaking-stupid look and I sigh. I am freaking stupid. Of course he wasn’t at a bachelor party.

  “I’m leaving, sweets.” He rubs his chin and shoots his chocolate eyes my way. The same eyes that made me fall head over heels for him in the first place. The same eyes I got lost in every day for the past seven months. The same eyes that I gave a key to my apartment!

  “I beg your pardon?” I say. Richard really has to work on his comedic timing, because this isn’t funny.

  He sits on the edge of the bed and he gives me a halfway grin that pisses me off. “I just feel like I’m at the age where I’m ready to settle down, you know? And yesterday Hanna and I were talking about kids, and I think I’m ready for that next step.”

  Hanna?

  He pushes himself off of the bed and walks over to me. “I was freaking out when I realized I lost the ring, but I can always count on you.” He slugs me in the arm. No lie—he actually slugs me in the arm!

  “What the hell are you talking about, Richard?!”

  “I’m asking my girlfriend of four years to marry me.”

  A flood of witty remarks from my mom start flying through my head. The disappointment in Grandma’s face at her still single granddaughter, with no babies, paints pictures in my mind. Dad…he’s going to get drunk and laugh at me. Come to think of it, Grandma’s going to get drunk and laugh at me, too. And then there will be Lisa and Danny, holding each other, kissing each other…

  “NO!” I hiss, rubbing my hands across my face, my blood boiling. I see Richard pick up his luggage and move toward the door. I block his only way out. “No, Richard!” His eyes fall on me, confused by my anger. Fuck him! He just ruined my life.

  “Jules, baby…” he whispers, trying to edge his way around me.

  I grip the sides of the door frame, shaking with such serious amounts of frustration. “You are not ditching me twenty minutes before we hit the road to meet my family.”

  No. No! This isn’t happening. I reserved an extra plate for the table at the cabin for my boyfriend! I bought two hundred dollars worth of video games for my boyfriend! I spent over six hundred dollars on a new video game system for my boyfriend! God dammit I earned the right to tie this asshole up, drag the son-of-a-bitch outside, and toss him into my car trunk next to my unopened Pilates DVDs while playing loud Christmas carols and driving in absurd amounts of snowfall.

  “Jules, sweets…you’re a little scary right now. There’s like some weird wrinkles in your forehead.” Richard frowns at my appearance, and I can’t blame him. If I look as crazed as I feel, he should really rethink leaving.

  “Listen, Richard. I am freaking out. I have pimples in places where pimples should never be. I am going home after three years of avoiding that fucking cabin. I’m pissy, I’m stressed, and I am not the person you want to cross right now. I get it. You’re a liar. You’re a cheater. You’re a bad lay. But right now? Right now, I don’t give a damn. You are getting in that car—now! I’m not kidding, you little shit. I.Will.Cut.A.Bitch.” I growl at him, watching his eyes fill with fear.

  “Uh, just to be clear... The bitch in this situation…?” he questions.

  “You. You’re the bitch, Richard.”I warn him with a look filled with death. He’s so lucky I don’t have superpowers, because he would be dead in an alley somewhere.

  Swinging his way under my arms, he squeezes through. “I’m sorry, Jules. I really am. But I’m gonna give you some time to calm your nerves. Then I’ll pick up the rest of my stuff.”

  Slam.

  He’s gone. He’s gone and I am past due for a mental meltdown. Oh my gosh, how can I do it? How can I go back to that cabin to see my sister, my one true love, and their love child together?

  So…ugly crying has been happening for the past twenty minutes, Hall and Oates She’s Gone is on repeat, and the gut-wrenching realization that I set myself up for yet another disappointing relationship is slowly sinking into my spirit. What’s wrong with me? Why do I fall for the ones who will never dive in for me?

  Hearing my phone ring, I rush over to it, hoping to hear Richard say ‘December Fools,’ and tell me this is some kind of sick prank he’s playing on me and that he’s really loading the car up downstairs. Unfortunately it’s not Richard. Oh how I wish it were the cheating liar. I listen to the ringing phone for a few seconds more, debating if I really want to answer.

  “Hey Mom,” I say in the most u
pbeat tone. If she hears a crack in my voice, she’ll know something is up and hold it against me for the rest of my life.

  “Hey, honey! Just calling to see if you two hit the road yet…”

  Glancing out of my kitchen window down to the street, I see where Richard’s car was previously parked. Nothing but an emptied space. “Uh—yup. Richard just pulled the car out of the parking structure.”

  “Oh, he’s driving? Wonderful. You know how your driving gets on icy roads.” Insult number one: check. “Let me speak to him really fast. I want to know if he wants chicken or fish for Christmas Eve dinner. Tonight I think we’ll just have the homemade pizzas. So let me ask him.”

  “Fish. He wants fish, Mom.”

  “Any allergies? Let me speak to him.”

  “Nope, no need to talk to him. He’s as healthy as a fox and allergy free!”

  “Lord, Julie. You could have let me speak to him on my own. You do know that at one point he’ll have to talk to us, seeing how he’ll be standing in front of us in a few hours.”

  No. He won’t.

  “I know, Mom. It’s just, he’s driving.”

  “Your sister and Danny arrived earlier. To tell you the truth, Lisa didn’t think you were really bringing a guy. For awhile, I agreed.” Insult number two: check.

  “Gee, thanks. Well, for your information, we are on our way right now.” Oh my gosh. I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend!

  “Well, I’m glad. Little Olivia could really use a cousin sometime soon. Your eggs aren’t getting any younger, and I really hope you will look into that email I sent you about freezing them.”

  Ding ding ding! We have a winner! Three insults in less than three minutes! Somebody get the lady a prize!

  “Oh?! What’s that, Mom?! I’m losing you!” Covering the receiver I make the best static sounds known to mankind. “We—in—tunnel. See—later. B—y—e.” Hitting end on a telephone call never felt so good. Then it sets in. I told Mom that Richard wanted fish, which he doesn’t. He doesn’t want anything other than Hanna and her nonexistent babies. I hate Hanna and her nonexistent babies.

  “Breathe… Just breathe…” I fall to the floor and do some major rocking back and forth, gasping for air, grasping for answers. “What am I going to do? What am I going to?” My eyes move to the paperwork I brought in from the agency and I pause. And this wave of energy rocks through my spirit, sending me powerful bursts of a plan. Maybe I am Einstein!

  “Jules! What are you doing back here?” Stacey asks, following my fast pace into the front lobby with all of the actors.

  “Richard broke up with me to marry his girlfriend of four years.” I mutter and the look of non-shock from Stacey pierces me. “What?! You saw this coming?”

  “Well, not exactly this. But, you do have a history of picking up losers.”

  I don’t reply because she’s not wrong. She sounds just like Eddie. “Anyway, I need help. I need to steal an actor.”

  Stacey raises an eyebrow, placing both of her hands under her ever-growing belly. “What do you mean you need to steal an actor?”

  “No time to explain.”

  “Okay, whatever. I have to go get food before I burn this place down and eat people’s ankles, but first, feel that.” She grabs my hands and places them on her stomach, where a weird vibration happens. I try my best not to make a grossed-out face, but I can’t help it. That felt freaking nasty. Stacey nods. “I know right? The joys of pregnancy.”

  With that, she turns away and wobbles out of the building. Going back to the front lobby, I walk in front of all of the male actors in the room and stand up on one of the chairs. “I am in need of an actor for a five-day trip to my parents’ cabin to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

  The room is filled with silence, all types of green, blue, and brown eyes staring at me with the blankest of blank expressions.

  “I’ll pay you one thousand dollars to be my made-up boyfriend. Five days.”

  Crickets. Freakin’ A! “Okay, let’s be honest shall we? There’s a .00005 chance that you will land the role for Fresh toothpaste today. This dude over here has eyebrows that are too caterpillar-like. This kid looks like he’s fifteen. And you”—I point to the guy in the corner, giving me a rude look— “you have a nose that would only be featured in a sinus and cold commercial. So if you want to pass up an opportunity to get paid money for eating cookies, opening presents, and hating my sister, then fine. Pass it up. But truthfully, one thousand dollars for acting is more than some of you will make in a year.”

  A guy in the back says something, but I can’t see or hear him. I clear my throat, and stand on my tiptoes. “Who said something?”

  Out of nowhere this tall, dark figure stands from his chair and steps up. He has beautiful brown hair, perfectly styled facial hair and a jaw line that makes my thighs clench and my lady parts scream, “Hallelujah!”

  “I said, do we get paid half up front?”

  When we lock eyes, I can feel my cheeks redden, because he’s the same stranger who picked up the engagement ring for me earlier. He comes to the same realization, and that smile of his widens the same way it did earlier.

  “Well, we can work something out.” I blink, but only once, because I want to take in his green eyes for as long as possible. He’s wearing a white button-down shirt that is hiding his clearly toned body. “What’s your name?”

  “Kayden Reece.”

  “Why don’t I know you?” I know all of our clients. It’s my job to file, file, and file some more of their paperwork.

  “I was signed on to the team this afternoon. This is my first official audition.”

  Ohh, he’s sexy. I can use fresh meat; they are less likely to ask for a raise. “Age?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  Ohhh, older than me by a year. Perfect! “Girlfriend?”

  He shifts his glance to the ground and I can tell he’s smiling. An overwhelming amount of desire fills me when he looks up again and I get to take in the smile. It’s sexy and adorable all at one. Sexdorable. His smile is so sexdorable it almost kills me. If I didn’t have a thing against dating actors, and if my heart weren’t currently being dragged through the mud, I would totally be up for making some babies with him.

  His looks alone make Danny appear like the ugliest man alive, which pleases me quite a bit, but that’s not all he has that is so much more charming than Danny. Kayden has this deep, sultry, smoky voice that pulls all of the attention to him whenever he speaks. Danny sounds like freaking Mickey Mouse on crack. Kayden also has this edgy characteristic about him that reads badass yet sweetheart all at once. And with a name like Kayden, he was destined to be all kinds of yum.

  “No girlfriend to claim at this moment in time.”

  I nod once and step off of the chair, giving an evil glance to all of the actors who didn’t step up for the role of a lifetime. “Follow me to my office, Mr. Reece.”

  “I’m guessing the proposal didn’t go over too great?” Kayden asks, and my gut tightens. I don’t reply, and watch as he shifts around in his chair. Clearly he knows now that he should’ve kept that comment to himself.

  “So, here’s the thing. I can pay you five hundred dollars upfront. You’ll get the rest after we leave Haven Creeks, Wisconsin. You can stop by your place, pack up some things. If you have any white or black winter wear, that would be perfect. Then we can match and be super cute and like a match made in heaven. Then again, I bought a few hats and gloves for the ass whose name shall not be spoken, so I’ll pack that up for you, too.” I scatter papers around my desk, looking for something, anything, just to avoid looking at the beautiful piece of man candy sitting across from me. He’s smirking, which in turn makes my lady parts smirk. He knows he’s good-looking. He has to!

  “Ms. Stone,” he cuts in and I hold my hand up.

  “Oh God no. My mom is Mrs. Stone, I’m Jules, please.”

  “All right, Jules. I’m sorry, this is all happening pretty fast. So, is there a way
we can start from the beginning?” I stop my shuffling and look at the handsome man sitting across from me. He’s leaning forward, running his hand across his chin.

  I feel my cheeks heat up, feeling silly that this sudden plan of mine is actually a load of crap. My head falls to the desk and I curse under my breath. When my head rises, I can tell that my curly blond hair looks like hell, but I don’t care about much anymore.

  “Listen, I’m a hot mess and this is insanely unprofessional, but it’s also very much like me because I’m a nut job. This isn’t even my office. It’s my boss’s, but he’s gone on vacation with his wife, who loves him. I work in the cubicle in the back corner.” I try to fight the tears that are thrusting their way to the surface. “I come to work every day, happy to help people reach their dreams because I didn’t reach mine. Everyone in my family are freaks. My sister’s a whore who I oddly enough wish I could be. And I date losers because I think that’s all I can attract.” My bottom lip starts to tremble, and the tears of a sad, single girl start spilling from my eyes. “And my only friends are ninety-year-olds who have more make-out sessions than I do!”

  Ignite ugly crying now.

  I sob into my hands and proceed to get all snotty and gross in front of Sir Hottie-Smiles.

  “Um, Jules, is everything okay?” Claire peeks her head in my office, forcing me to cry even harder because it’s not okay. Nothing’s okay. I don’t look up at her because she has a fiancé and she’s happy and younger than me, which adds insult to injury.

  “I think she’ll be okay,” Kayden says, making me peek my eyes through my fingers to find him staring at me. It’s intimidating how he looks at me, because it’s not like he simply stares. It’s more like he can see into me. See my spirit, my soul, which is worrisome because if he sees that deep into me then he would be running away any minute now.

  Claire looks over to me, and I nod to her through my tears. She slowly closes the office door, locking Kayden and me inside. Kayden moves from his chair and holds his hand out toward me. “Can I try something?” he requests, waiting for me to give him my hand. I look at my hands—all snotty and nastified—and wipe them against my jeans.

 

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