Page 12 of Holidate Pursuit

“How dare you? You can’t just barge in here and act like a beast. You have no right after the way you left things.”

“Your text a little while ago says otherwise. You’re the one who brought me here, so get on with it. This can go the easy way or the hard way—you choose.” I’m nearing my breaking point, and if she doesn’t start explaining what this is about, there’s no telling what I’ll do next.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, the slightest trepidation in her voice.

Fuck. My goal isn’t to scare her more, but dammit… If she needs help, then I need to know with what. This is not how I expected things to go on the drive over. Maybe it’s time for a different tactic.

Taking a seat on the couch, I turn toward her, resting my arm on the back of the cushion, concentrating on softening my tone. “Listen, Lucy, we have a past that, unfortunately, didn’t end as it should have. But I’m here now, and I’d like to help in whatever way possible. Please let me do what I can to make up for the way I’ve treated you.”

My words have the desired effect, and she relaxes immediately. Thank God. I’m not sure what the problem is, but something is obviously wrong if she’s drinking and texting meout of the blue on a Sunday afternoon, especially after the way she left last night.

“All right, but you’ll probably say no. It’s crazy that I’m even suggesting it.” She brings her feet up to the couch, bending her knees and hugging them to her body.

“Let me be the judge of that. What do you need?” I’m trying hard to keep my patience in check as she battles with herself to answer.

“A fiancé,” she blurts as she looks up at the ceiling, blowing air from her lungs.

What the…?I’m speechless and unable to form words for a moment.

“Yeah, so see? It’s not something you can help me with anyway. I’m sorry. The wine went to my head this afternoon, and I just… God, this is so stupid.” She rolls her eyes and then drops her head between her knees, shaking it back and forth while groaning.

After another minute of silent perplexity, I gently pry her head up and turn her to face me before finally finding my voice again. “What do you mean you need a fiancé?”

I watch as she contemplates her words, probably deciding whether to elaborate or keep up her efforts to blow it off, which won’t work if she chooses that route. The moment her mind is made up, she sighs in indignation.

“My family’s complicated—so complicated that I only go home to visit twice a year, on Thanksgiving and Christmas. A few weeks ago, at Thanksgiving, they were putting pressure on me to go out with this guy and then said it was time for me to settle down and start taking life seriously. To them, that means getting married to someone they approve of, becoming the perfect wife, and having perfect babies. They were ready to plan more dates during my visit for Christmas, but I panicked and told them I was engaged.” She looks at me sheepishly before quicklycontinuing. I’m trying to take it all in, wondering why she calledmefor this.

“At first, I just told them I was already involved with someone, but they were relentless, insisting I should give this Nathan guy a chance. So, in the heat of the moment, I went a step further and said we were engaged. It turned into a huge argument, and I ended up walking out. A few days later, they apologized and said we would discuss it more while I’m home for Christmas.” She’s cringing as she finishes.

“When you say ‘we,’ who did you tell them you were engaged to?” This is nowhere near any of the scenarios that went through my mind on my way here. Where the hell is she going with this? I have an idea, but…

“Since I’m a terrible liar, I named the only person who came to mind, someone I knew enough about to be able to bullshit my way through…” She pauses and takes a deep breath before finishing, “so, I told them I was engaged to you.” She looks up shyly.

This is the moment I know I’ll do anything she asks and be anyone she needs—whatever it takes to get more time with her looking at me with those piercing baby blues, even though it’s the last thing I deserve.

Before any words leave my mouth, she goes on, “But actually, it’s all good. I’ve already decided to tell them we broke up as soon as I get there, and then it won’t matter. Really, I think the—”

“What do you need me to do?” I cut her off. Hearing her breakup plan affects me more than it should, and I need to know if she was about to ask what I’m hoping for.

“Well, I thought… maybe you could pretend to be my fiancé and come home with me for Christmas, but I’m sure—”

“I’ll do it.”Thank fuck.

“Wait. Are you serious? You’d be gone a whole week, and you’d be spending Christmas without your family. Not only that, but you’d have to act as if you like me. Actually, you’d need to make it look like you love me.”

“I usually spend the holidays with my buddies, but they have each other, so I’m good there. As far as faking an engagement and pretending to be in love? I don’t know.” I shrug. “Sounds like a fun holiday to me.”

“You say that now, but you might be singing a different tune after you meet my parents.”

“Ah, they can’t be that bad if they raised you.”

“Says the guy who ding-dong ditched me.”

“Aaand that’s my cue to go.” I stand up and look down at her. “Send me your flight information so I can book mine. The sooner, the better. I need to make arrangements at the office for my absence, and let me know if I need to pack anything special.” I get up and start heading toward the front door.

“I’ll take care of your flight. It’s the least I can do since this is such a big ask.”

I turn with my hand on the doorknob. “Not happening. I’ll book my own flight. Send me the details if you want me to go. See you later, Lucy.”

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