Page 5 of Wicked Christmas Eve

Before I could protest she grabbed my hand and placed the card in my palm. “Give it a chance, Megan. Life in Rockridge can be more than what you think. If you’ll open your heart to it, it might surprise you. Plus, it’s Christmas. It’s a magical time of year. We could all use a little holiday special in our lives.”

I narrowed my eyes and quirked my mouth to the side. Who was this woman and what had she done with my real mother?

While not all the words coming out of her mouth made total sense, I did know my mother well enough to understand that if I didn’t follow through on this interview, I would literally never hear the end of it. I looked down at the card and drew in a deep breath.

“Okay, Mom, I’ll go. But you seriously need to not get your hopes up. I like Charlotte. It suits me.”

She nodded, her mouth set in a grim line making sure I couldn’t read on her face whatever she might be thinking before she turned and left the room.

My shoulders sagged. If I didn’t know better I’d swear my mother was up to something. At least something more than just trying to manipulate me into moving back home.

A glance at the clock had me hurrying with the last of my pie embellishments. If I wanted to take a shower and get ready for this ridiculous interview, I needed to get a move on. Although it would serve my mother right if I turned up for it in flour covered jeans and my ugly Christmas sweater.

A snort escaped before I could stop it. We both knew better than that. My obsession with fashion and make up had been formed as a young teenager bitten with an obsession for hunky boys and rosacea that had required copious amounts of concealer to disguise. I didn’t leave the house then without looking my best and I wouldn’t now.

My mother knew me too well.

---