Page 2 of Holiday Hoax

“I was supposed to meet a friend of mine, but he flaked at the last minute. I was already dressed so I figured I’d just go and enjoy a drink because the reservations took months to get. I’ll probably get blacklisted now.” She sighs and tilts her head back to look up at the clouds rolling through. “Oh well. It’s worth it for a moment’s peace.”

“Was he bothering you for long?”

“No.” Her gaze meets mine. “At least not tonight. He just keeps coming back to the gallery but never buying anything.”

“You should tell him he’s only welcome back if he makes a purchase.”

“If only I could. I can’t really afford to turn anyone away, nuisance or not.”

The valet parks my car and brings the keys over. “Let me drive you home.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“He might look out the window and see us leave separately. It’ll be better for you to come with me.” I walk over and open the passenger door for her.

She hesitates for a second but gives in when I gesture for her to come on with my chin. “Thank you. Again.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” I say as I lean down in the open door. “But I’m going to linger here awkwardly because I caught him looking at us.”

“Better give him a show then.” She reaches up, her fingers sliding through my hair and presses her lips to my cheek.

Anyone watching from the restaurant would think she’d just kissed my lips. The urge to turn my face hits me out of nowhere and forces me to straighten. That would be a terrible mistake. Instead, I close the door gently and walk around the hood of the car.

“What brought you out tonight?” she asks as I start the car.

“A dinner with a few members of the board. Pretty boring stuff and frustrating if I’m being honest.”

“How so?” She angles her body toward mine so she can look at me while I complain about my current situation.

I drive aimlessly up and down the city streets as we talk. It’s not until I’ve verbally dumped all my bullshit at her feet that I realize I don’t know where she lives. A light drizzle has begun falling as we stop at a red light.

“Where should I be taking you home to? I didn’t even realize I’ve just been driving around aimlessly.”

She laughs a little. “Nico actually gave me his old apartment as a graduation gift.” She rattles off the address. “I don’t mind the aimless drive, though. You’re easy to talk to.”

“As are you, obviously,” I say wryly. “Now that you know my life story, how’s yours going?”

“Good. I’m struggling to find clients, though. My boss just sat me down and told me if I don’t start making more sales she’ll have to cut my hours back at the gallery. It’s just hard because everyone I work with has at least two decades more experience than me and lists of clients longer than the zeros in my student loan debt.”

“I could probably use some art.” It’s not a lie, I haven’t decorated my penthouse at all.

“No.” She shakes her head with a sad smile. “I don’t want pity business.”

“Any business is better than no business.”

“I know.” She sighs heavily and looks out the window. “I just want to succeed on my own.”

“Success is subjective.”

“Easy to say when you’re at the pinnacle of business.”

She’s not wrong, but before I can keep arguing with her, I’ve pulled up in front of her building. She opens the door and slips out, leaning down to meet my eyes. “Thanks again, Ian. Have a good night.”

The door closes before I can even get a word in. I keep my eyes on her until she disappears into an elevator and the doors close behind her. The doorman gives me a little wave as I put the car in gear and drive away.

Thoughts of last night keep filtering through my mind as I move through my morning routine. I forgot how easy it is to talk to Mia. She’s such a breath of fresh air. Maybe it’s because aside from our siblings being married, we’re completely removed from each other’s circles. It’s not often that I find myself with someone who doesn’t work for or want something from myself or my family.

“Good morning, Mr. Jameson,” Marta, my housekeeper, calls down the hall as she enters the penthouse.

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