Page 34 of My Favorite Holidate

That’s when I see what’s on the agenda for late Monday morning—Shay’s scheduled time for me to decorate the door. I’m sure he did this per Bibi’s orders, since she wants me participating in all things holiday at the office. I drag a hand through my hair. I like to do things I’m good at. The last thing I want to do is decorate a door.

But then again, it’s an excuse to spend more time with Fable.

Maybe I can learn to like decorating.

12

SANTA’S BUTT

Fable

Women can’t survive shower planning solo. It’s a special kind of task that requires not one, not two, but three girlfriends for support. The next night I call on Josie, Maeve, and Everly, assembling them in our favorite bookstore. An Open Book on Fillmore Street officially wins all the Christmas competitions in the world because its window display is made of—wait for it—a stack of books, forming a tree, and covered in lights.

The tree topper is none other than my friend Hazel Valentine’s newest romance novel. I’m so proud of her, even though I really wanted her to name itChristmas is Coming. She said retailersmightfind that a tad too racy, so she opted forThe Twelve Hate Dates of the Holidays, which works since it’s an enemies-to-lovers romance, obviously.

I push open the door, and the bell jingles. The store is warm and cozy, with an electric fireplace crackling and stockings hung from the mantel, each stuffed withbooks. I walk past the displays to the café, where I find my three friends poring over a coffee table book about Paris.

“I want to go there. And get lost in a library,” Josie says, with a happy sigh as she points to a full-page image of a cobblestone street in front of, naturally, a bibliothèque.

“You know Wesley will take you. And when the hockey season’s over, maybe I can convince Max to take me there too,” Everly seconds. She started seeing the goalie for one of the city’s hockey teams, and he worships the ground she walks on.

“I just want to go there and paint,” Maeve says, wistful in her own way.

My heart squeezes with happiness for my two paired-up friends and their happily ever afters. But that feeling is chased by a tiny bit of jealousy. What would it be like to feel the way they do? Wildly content. Joyful, even, with their partners.

I’ve always wanted a big love—even in spite of what I saw in front of me growing up. Each time I went on a date with someone from an app, from a setup, from anywhere, I believed in the possibility of big love. Hoped for it.

Do I still believe in a happily ever after? Hard to say given my track record, and certainly a fake romance won’t help my cause.

But a smile tugs at my lips as I think about last night. It was the best date I’ve had in ages. Too bad it wasn’t real.

I head to the table. “Should we hold the shower in Paris? It’s not a bad idea,” I announce cheerily, shoving my romantic woes into a corner.

Josie looks up, her eyes alight with approval. “I’m not saying no to that.”

Maeve nods vigorously. “Maybe Charlotte could haveher wedding there. Yes, convince your sister to get hitched in Paris on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, sure. No problem. She’s only wanted a small town, snowy wedding her whole life, but I’ll see what I can do.” I sit, unwinding my scarf.

“Does that mean we need to order a snow machine if it doesn’t snow in Evergreen Falls?” Everly asks dryly.

“You know what? I think we do,” I say.

Josie chuckles. “From what you’ve told us, I bet Leo would be all over that for Charlotte.”

My heart goes soft once again. That’s another happily ever after too. “He’d do anything for her.”

And I try not to feel an ounce of envy for his over-the-top love of my sister. I’m happy for them. Truly, I am.

Besides, it’s not like I’m even on the romance market right now anyway. I’mon the sidelines this holiday season for all intents and purposes and that’s fine. Just fine. I had a taste of a great date, and that’s enough.

I get down to business. “So, she wants a brunch next weekend. Co-ed of course. And casual. She has a restaurant already booked, so all we have to do is plan some fun games.”

Josie nods sagely. “Planning games is my middle name.”

“Planning anything is,” Everly says, correcting Josie.

Maeve holds up one finger, stop-the-clock style. “But, more important, have you all gotten your sequin shorts for the bachelorette party?”

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