Page 19 of The Mistletoe Makeover

She frowns. “No! I was trying to surprise you. It’s called anice gesture.” She digs one hand into her winter coat as snowflakes coat her hair. “That’s what a competent assistant does. Makes your life easier so you can be the creative genius.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “I’m not a genius at anything these days.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“You think that a lot.”

“No, I don’t!”

“I made my point.”

She frowns again.

“Lately, my creative muse is missing,” I say.

She grabs a large bag from the passenger seat. “That’s why you need to go to Evergreen.”

“Right,” I mutter, unconvinced that Evergreen will solve my problems. “The only thing that sounds good is a vacation on a remote island.”

“Pretend you’re having fun,” she says. “Although that will require you to act like you enjoy being with me.”

Does she think I can’t stand her? Because that’s not what I was trying to say.

Mia looks around, like she’s missing something.

“Were you expecting someone else?” I reach to open her car door, but she jumps in front of me and pulls it open herself. She must be one of those women who won’t let a man help her.

“I thought you’d have someone with you,” she says. “Like a bodyguard or a driver.”

“I enjoy driving. Clears my mind. And I already have someone with me.” I climb into my vehicle, pulling on sunglasses and starting the engine. “You.”

She glances at me. “But what about crazy fans? I don’t even have a weapon.”

I laugh and nod toward the large leather carry-on she brought. “You could do a lot of damage with that.”

She clutches her bag to her chest. “I’m not wasting my designer bag on you.”

I give her a side eye. “For your information, I walk around Maplewood and no one bothers me. Not in my usual disguise.” I point to my hat and sunglasses.

“But this isn’t Maplewood. It’s more crowded. And it’s a well-known venue for celebrity sightings.”

I shrug. “My disguise kept you from recognizing me at the airport.”

“But I didn’t even know who you were, so that’s not a good comparison. I thought you don’t want to be bothered.” She knots her fingers and looks out the window as the snow falls harder, coating the windows.

“You heard about the fan who jumped on me?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road.

She glances over for a second, measuring my reaction. “No.”

“It was at an awards show.” I didn’t worry about fans before, but after this year, I’ve had to guard myself.

“So what do you want to do in Evergreen?” she asks with a cheery smile, trying to change the subject to something lighter. “Snow carving contest? Ice-skating? Or we could watch the guy who makes reindeer balloon animals.”

I give a vague grunt as I turn onto a back road.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.

I lift an eyebrow. “Reindeer balloon animals?”

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