Page 86 of Business or Pleasure

EXT. CHRISTMAS TREE FARM—­NIGHT

Ms.Mistletoe pageant has just ended. DYLAN emerges through a patch of trees and finds HOLLY, sitting alone on a tree stump.

DYLAN

Holly? I was hoping I’d find you here.

HOLLY

Quickly wiping the tears from her eyes.

Oh—­hi. Don’t mind me. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.

She lets out a hollow laugh.

It was silly, thinking I had a chance at winning Ms.Mistletoe, but my mom won, and my grandma... and I guess I just wanted to make them proud. But it’s obvious I haven’t been feeling the Christmas cheer as much as I usually do.

DYLAN

Well, that’s just not true.

He inches closer to her on the tree stump.

You always cheer me up. No one makes me laugh as much as you do. Every time you come into my hot cocoa shop, you put a smile on my face. And my son loves you to pieces.

HOLLY

He does, doesn’t he?

DYLAN

He said you’re much better at bedtime stories than I am, and I wasn’t even offended. Maybe you’re not feeling the Christmas cheer... but I do. For you.

chapter

twenty-three

SEATTLE, WA

My cousin stares at me, eyes narrowed. “Something’s different about you,” she accuses me.

“I own a suitcase now? Maybe that’s it.”

Noemie shakes her head. “No, no. It’s not that. Although that is a lovely suitcase.”

I continue unpacking, Noemie leaning against the doorframe of my room. Returning to Seattle after two months away is a bit surreal. Everything is familiar, of course, but the house has a new scent to it, and I’m not sure whether it’s been there the whole time and I just got used to it or Noemie switched fragrances or cleaning products.

Fortunately, I manage to avoid interrogation the rest of the day, and early the next morning, we have to start prepping for Thanksgiving dinner at my parents’ place in North Seattle. Even though we grew up on the same street—though Noemie’s moms bought a condo in Bellevue a few years ago—our parents always prioritized family time during this holiday, a tradition that’s carried into our adulthood. Plus, Noemie’s mom Sarah, my dad’s sister, makes the most heavenly mashed potatoes known to humankind.

While Noemie and I work on the homemade cranberry sauce in my parents’ kitchen, feigning innocence when my mom asks how much we’ve tasted, I do my best to put Finn out of my mind. What happened the night before I left wasn’t like any of our past lessons, and I will not allow myself to wonder whether he felt it, too.

I will not wonder what he’s doing right now. I will definitely not watch the puppy video.

Unfortunately, my parents and aunts are eager to hear about what Oliver Huxley is like in real life, even though I’ve kept them updated throughout the trip.

“Were there paparazzi following you around?” my dad asks when we sit down to dinner, and I have to shatter his illusions and tell him no, there were not.

“Did you meet other famous people?” Aunt Vivi wants to know as she spoons gravy onto her plate.

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