Page 15 of Holiday Hoax

“Thank you. Most of this outfit came from your sister as gifts over the years.” She turns and lifts her shoe to show the red bottoms. “There’s no way I could afford a pair of these bad boys on my own.”

“She does have exquisite taste.” I take her jacket and hold it open for her to slide her arms in. “Did you get rid of the purple hair?”

“No.” She turns and buttons her coat up. “I just tucked those pieces under in case you didn’t want them to be out on display.”

“I love them. Please don’t feel the need to be anyone but yourself while you’re with me.”

“Thank you.” She slides her hand inside my elbow after she locks her door. “Knowing that puts me at ease, but I’ll keep my freak flag hidden until I get a better feel for people we’ll be around.”

Despite my best efforts, my mind fixates on the freak flag part of her statement. A desperate curiosity builds inside me as to what exactly her freak is, surely not just her hair. It’s none of my business, though. We’re not going there.

Our driver opens the car door for us as soon as we exit the building. She slides in first, her unique amber and vanilla scent floating in the air behind her. She looks out into the rainy, gray evening as the car takes off into traffic.

“Autumn in Chicago is my favorite time of year,” she says quietly. “The way the leaves turn bright red and brilliant yellow contrasts so beautifully against the gray skies and steel and glass buildings.”

“It is pretty.” I lean over to look out her window and try to see the world through her eyes. “Probably the best time of year to run, at least for me.”

“You run?”

I nod. “About five miles every day. How about you?”

“Only if something is chasing me. Even then, I might weigh my chances in a fight. I’m pretty tough being the youngest of four.”

I chuckle as she gives me a wry grin. “No worries for tonight. As long as you’re with me, I’ll protect you.”

“Or at least give me a piggyback ride.”

“Absolutely.” I straighten back up in my seat and stretch my arm across the backrest. “Do you have any questions about tonight?”

“Not really. Are there any topics you want to avoid?”

“No. As far as any questions about us, I figure we can stick as close to the truth as possible. That we’ve known each otherthrough family connections for a while and have recently begun dating.”

“Perfect. I can do that.”

The lobby is packed as we enter the restaurant. We’re the last of our party to arrive, which is what I had hoped for. To my surprise Mia slips her hand in mine as the host leads us through the front dining room back to the chef’s table in a private room. He takes her coat and my jacket, hanging them on a coat tree in the corner.

“Ian, good to see you.” Marc Jacobi, one of the newer board members, stands and extends his hand.

“Marc.” I shake his hand. “Savannah,” I say as I give his wife a nod of greeting. “This is my girlfriend, Mia Mattia.”

She exchanges greetings with both them and Albert Douglas, another board member. Her experience in sales becomes obvious immediately as she eases them effortlessly into light conversation. I watch in awe as she charms Albert, who is generally considered the toughest nut to crack, into a conversation about football of all things. Apparently, she grew up with one of the Bears players.

She pays polite attention as the conversation swings to business but quietly starts a side conversation with Savannah. Mia makes sure to touch me at appropriate times, her hand squeezing my arm as she laughs at something or letting me take her hand in between courses. I don’t think it’s all in my mind to believe that we’re really pulling this off.

Before dessert is served, I make sure to swing the conversation to Mia’s art gallery and the show I recently went to. I make sure to mention how beautiful the art was and give some of the tidbits I learned from my date about the artist. The date whose name and face I can’t even remember because all I see is Mia.

When I reach out and grab her hand as we stand to leave the restaurant, she looks up at me with a smile. For a second this feels real. An overwhelming desire to pull her close and press a kiss to her lips, to feel them against mine, rushes through me. The cold wind whipping off the lake hits me with a welcome dose of reality, though. The warmth and flirtation at dinner was a ruse; we’re just two friends helping each other out in an unconventional way.

The car ride is quiet on the way back to her apartment. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, more like decompression from the high stakes dinner. I can’t stop myself from sneaking glances her way, though, as she lets her hair down.

Her eyes meet mine in the flashing light of streetlights passing by. “Thank you for bringing up my job at the gallery. I think Savannah might actually stop by next week.”

“Of course. Us doing this isn’t just about me.”

She nods with a soft smile. “Still it was nice of you to bring it up. I think it felt more natural that way.”

“Speaking of art, I did want to ask you if you’d come by my apartment sometime to help me decorate. My space is pretty bland, and it’s about time I add some interest to the walls.”

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