Page 98 of Fake It 'Til You Sleigh It

“Cut!” Chase yells. “Moving on!”

I stride over to her, eager to see if she liked my take. I still crave her approval.God, I’m a sucker.Our eyes lock briefly before she turns, addressing Taylor, her ever-efficient right hand.

“Please tell Ethan that he’s on break but needs to stand by,” Chase says, face buried in her clipboard.

Taylor acknowledges me with an expression ofI’m so sorryandplease don’t make this difficult.

I smirk and say, “Please inform Director Pemberton that I’ll be a good little boy. No wandering off set, no sneaking cookies from craft services, and there will be no thinking on my part whatsoever. I’ll perform the script exactly as written.”

That earns me an eye roll from Chase. I’ll take it.

As I’m exiting the stage, a flustered guy intercepts me. “Hey, I’m Mike, the prop master,” he says, all business. “Quick question: Does your wardrobe tonight have pockets?”

“Yeah, we can both be glad they vetoed the sexy Santa Speedo idea.” My attempt at humor falls flat, as Mike doesn’t even crack a smile.

He holds out a small ring box. “Think this’ll fit in your pocket? Or should I hunt down a smaller box?”

Mike hands it to me, and the ring inside is… one-of-a-kind. The garish design seems to be inspired by a disco ball, featuring an uneven hodgepodge of rejected gemstones.

When I hold it up to the light, the jewels sparkle so intensely that it’s almost blinding. It’s not Chase’s style, not that it matters. If I were to choose, I would go with something understated yet elegant—a solitaire in white gold with clean lines. Classic, strong, and timeless. Just like her.

The thought catches me off guard, and I almost drop the gaudy rock.

Why am I acting like this is an actual proposal?

Whatever sparks we had are now tightly sealed off.

“Any chance you could hold on to that until after this number?” Mike asks, already retreating. “I have to drag that 500-pound sleigh onto the stage.”

“Sure, man,” I respond, but he’s already gone.

I slide into one of the audience chairs, my gaze locked on the engagement ring as if it’s the key to everything. “This day cannot be over soon enough,” I say, snapping the box shut.

I’m startled by my dad’s voice, who pats me on the back and plops down next to me. “Would you look at this? You Hollywood people sure go all out, don’tcha son?”

“Hey Dad, what—”

Chase’s deafening voice from her megaphone interrupts. “Let’s run the ‘Santa Baby’ dance number from the top! And Santa, either nail your blocking this time, or you’re fired. No more mistakes, understood?”

“Wow,” Dad says, eyebrows raised. “She’s a fierce little thing, ain’t she?”

Fiercedoesn’t even scratch the surface. That woman is a force of nature, a whirlwind of creativity and passion. And me? I’m the guy who got swept up in her storm, spinning out of control, not able to—hell, not wanting to—break free.

“Where’s Mom?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“At the store. She’s barely keeping up with all your fans,” Dad replies. “Your event’s bringing in lots of new folks with money to burn.”

I should step up and offer to help, but the idea of facing a crowd of zealous fans, all expecting to see the happy couple… Yeah, that’s more than I can handle right now.

Dad must sense my hesitation because he adds, “Nolan’s there. Your mama’s fine. She sent me down here to check on you.” He pauses, and I feel him studying my face. “She’s got it in her head that you’re gonna propose to Chase tonight.”

The velvet case suddenly feels like it’s burning a hole in my pocket. I pull it out, holding it up like some kind of evidence. “So I’m told.”

Dad opens the box and studies the tacky diamond. His expression says it all. “Hmmm,” he muses. “That’s something… not something Chase would like.”

“That’s what I said…”Oh shit! I said that out loud.“I mean, when I bought it. Um, that is to say, when she picked it out… We agreed that—”

“Son,” Dad says gently, cutting me off and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Now’s as good a time as any to stop with the lies.”

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