Page 2 of Christmas By The Shore

“What?” Cat shook her head. “You’re insane! I know it’s been a minute since I’ve seen the movie, but last I checked, I don’t lookanythinglike Julia Roberts.” She tugged on her long, dark brown hair. “Unless there's a Bollywood version of the movie that somehow I missed growing up in a half-Indian household, but I highly doubt that. My dad would’ve been all over that if it existed.”

“Hmm. I suppose that’s true. The curly hair is sort of iconic, and it would take me half a day to curl all your hair.”

“Maybe longer.”

“You could just go as a slutty businesswoman.”

“I’m notgoingat all,” Cat corrected her. “But even if you could convince me to go out to a party, there’s no way I would dress up to be intentionally ogled by men. No judgment to people who like those costumes, but I just legitimately do not have the energy to deal with unwanted attention.”

“That’s why I was going to take you to one of the tamer parties. It’s at another writer’s apartment, and she’s cool, so I’m guessing most of her friends will be cool.” She shrugged. “They’re definitely not going to ogle you, and I can promise that much. And who knows? You might even meet someone there.”

“I’m not looking to meet anyone,” Catherine said. But as she said this, she couldn’t help but turn away from her friend and continue packing up her bag. McKenzie had a way of reading Cat’s face that made it hard for her to say anything even remotely untrue to her friend. It wasn’t that she was lying just then, but she also wasn’t telling the full truth. She had been feeling a little lonely lately, and the fact that her fortieth birthday was just around the corner was making her singlehood feel a little less like a choice and more like an unwanted status. When she was younger, Cat dated a lot and enjoyed the attention that her natural good looks brought her.

Now, when she looked in the mirror, all she noticed were the perpetual dark circles under her eyes and the wrinkles on her neck. The self-deprecating attitude, along with her workaholic tendencies, didn’t exactly lend themselves to a thriving love life.

“Even better!” McKenzie clapped her hands together. “You know what they always say—it’s when you’renotlooking for someone that the perfect seems to walk right into your life. It’s the whole ‘watched pot’ theory.”

“Except a watched potdoesboil eventually. That’s just science. And if I purposefully stop looking in hopes that the right person will come along, that’s just a more roundabout way of actually looking for someone. So they wouldn’t show up anyway, according to your logic.”

“What?” She rolled her eyes. “No, wait, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. I love you, Cat, but do you always have to suck the fun out of stuff?”

Cat opened her mouth to retort when her phone’s alarm went off again. She turned it off and slipped the device into her back pocket without explaining what the alarm had been for.

“Tonight just isn’t the night,” she said, turning her desk lamp off and plunging the room—and, therefore, the entire first floor—into darkness. “I promise, I will go out for drinks with you soon, okay? But I’m really looking forward to eating some dinner, drinking a glass of wine, and watching a scary movie in my apartment. If you would like to join me, you are welcome to do so.”

McKenzie folded her arms. “And miss my three parties? Not a chance.”

“Fair enough.” Catherine walked past her and out into the hallway. McKenzie followed. “I don’t want to ruin your fun. I’ll pick you up in the morning with some coffee, and you can tell me all about what happened. Deal?”

“I’ll be a hungover mess.”

“Then I’ll make yours a triple espresso.”

This got a slight smile out of her brooding friend. “Thanks.”

Outside, McKenzie noticed the egg yolk on the window of Cat’s office. “Were you here when that happened?”

“Yup. But I didn’t get a good look at whoever threw it. Not that I would rat them out anyway, but I still think they should be the ones who come back and clean it up.”

“It’s not nearly cold enough for it to freeze, and by tomorrow, it’s going to start to smell.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Catherine walked to her car, parked in one of the designated employee spots on the street in front of the building. “I’ve got some cleaning supplies in my car.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

McKenzie stuck around long enough to help clean the window, then the two said their goodbyes, but not before one last-ditch attempt on McKenzie’s part to try and get Cat to come out with her. “It would be a million times more fun if you came with me, and that’s all I’m saying.”

“I appreciate you saying that, Kenz,” Catherine said, using the nickname she only busted out when she really needed her friend to hear her. “But we both know that’s not true. I would spend the whole time complaining and asking when we can leave, or stressing about being out too late and being too tired to get my work done tomorrow. No fun at all.”

“Fine,” McKenzie caved. “I’ll let you off the hookthis time. But we’re going out for drinks this weekend, and you cannot say no, or I will start to question whether or not you are even my friend.”

“Saturday,” Cat said. “It’s a date.”

McKenzie pointed a finger gun as Cat got into her car. “Be there or be square.”

Back at Catherine’s apartment, she polished off the Mexican food she’d picked up on her way home and washed it down with a glass of expensive merlot. She then promptly poured herself a second glass and kicked her feet up on the coffee table. Other residents in her high rise were definitely celebrating the holiday. There was loud music thumping upstairs and shrieking laughter from the hallway, but it was too late for any trick-or-treaters to really be knocking on her door. She’d left a bowl out the morning before going to work, anticipating being there until after dark, and all the candy was gone when she got back, so she figured at least some of the kids in the building gotsomethingfrom her. Or one greedy kid poured the whole bowl into their pillowcase before anyone else could have some.

Either way, she did the bare minimum to keep from becoming known as the building curmudgeon, and that’s all she really cared about.

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