Page 5 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
His hand is large and swallows mine. I’m glad I was too distraught to put my gloves on earlier. My whole body tingles and grows hot at the contact. Not a terrible thing, as it’s cold and growing darker by the minute. I don’t want to let go, but I find the inner strength to not embarrass myself further.
“Layla,” I say.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Layla.” My name coming from his lips sounds like the beginnings of a love song. “Can I help you with anything?”
Can you loan me tens of thousands of dollars, interest free?
Not that I would ever say anything remotely similar out loud. Nana taught me to never talk about our financial situation, and I never have. Not with friends, not with my roommates, and definitely not with handsome acquaintances.
“No. Thank you, though.” I take a step away. “Well, good night. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year.”
Be quiet now, Layla.
I turn and take a few steps toward my car, rushing but not running, when Owen calls out my name.
“Layla.”
I take stock of all my possessions, worried I lost one and hoping I don’t have to go back to retrieve it. Then Owen is standing next to me.
“I know we don’t know each other, but I’ve seen you around. I’ve been wanting to get to know you better. Would you be interested in going to dinner with me after Christmas?”
He’s asking me on a date?
It should be an easy yes. It’s just a date. Except this is Owen, the man I have a massive crush on. It feels like there is potential for something more, and that scares me.
Faced with the possibility of a date, I realize the real reason I’ve been avoiding him: I don’t want him to know about my messy life. I like how he looks at me as if I’m beautiful and desirable. If he knew about the hundred thousand dollars I have in debt, he wouldn’t see me the same way.
At my hesitation, he says, “Maybe we could get something to eat right now if you’re not busy?”
Nois on my lips, but I want to go. It’s just one date; my credit score won’t come up in casual conversation, especially not if I keep it short. My roommates won’t mind if I bail on our plans for a handsome man.
Except, after my conversation with the home manager, I’m exhausted and want to decompress at home with my roommates. My pajamas are calling, and I want to answer.
Maybe I can do both.
“I have plans tonight,” I say. His smile dims until I continue. “But I have time for fries.”
I point across the street to the fast food drive-in.
He nods, and his smile perks up. “Perfect. I’ll drive.”
Chapter Two
OWEN
Layla leavesto drop her things in her car while I wait. For a second she disappears from view, and I half expect her to speed away, leaving me alone in the parking lot with my disappointment. But then she pops up and walks in my direction.
I can’t believe this moment is happening. I have maybe an hour to make a good impression so that she’ll want to see me again. I’ve admired this woman from afar for months now. She’s gorgeous: long legs, long blonde hair, full lips, bright blue eyes. It’s what initially captured my interest, but she’s so much more than beautiful.
She’s kind and chats with everyone at Brock Pine, even staff. They all love her here. As Greta and I have visited with the residents, they’ve all talked about her and shown me items she’s knitted for them. Envy is not something I usuallyfeel, but I’m jealous that out of everyone associated with Brock Pine, I seem to be the only one she avoids.
I’ve had to resort to subterfuge by hiding out in the hallway to listen to her sing-along. Her voice is clear and rings out above all the other voices. Her musical talent is awe-inspiring.
Someone might construe my actions as creepy, but I appreciate the music too, not just the musician.
I’ve tried to talk to her, but every time I take a step forward to introduce myself, she turns in the opposite direction. It’s been a hit to my self-esteem, but I’ve noticed how she watches me and I’ve bided my time, hoping my chance would come.
Now it finally has. She can take Greta for a joy ride anytime she wants, if this is the outcome.
