Page 14 of Hostile for the Holidays

She straightens in her seat and I know I’ve got her hooked. “Of course, I can.”

“Then prove it.”

“Hold on. What am I getting in return? I’ve got the acting skills, but I don’t think your time as the Technical Supervisor in drama club will lend itself to this project.”

She’s referring to me being the lighting and sound designer for all the theater productions. It’s there that I got my start learning about the technical aspects of sound and audio design, and my love for the visual arts. It became my major in collegeand my interest grew into the start-up that is now my billion-dollar company, Jensen Innovations.

I do have Stella to thank for that discovery. She’s the only reason I joined the drama club. To be near her.

“Trust me. I’ve got plenty of skills that will come in handy.”

She bursts out laughing. “You want me to trust you? After all the shit you’ve pulled?”

“Me? What about you? You’re not innocent in this.”

“I never claimed to be.” She huffs, her voice raising with her growing frustration. “This will never work. I despise you too much.”

“Come on, Stell. Is your hate for me more than your desire to avoid Daniel?”

She’s quiet for a minute, her lower lip trapped between her teeth as she contemplates my question.

“Okay, Jasper. For the next two weeks, we can pretend to be dating.”

A satisfied smile pulls at my lips, and for the rest of the drive, I honor Stella’s request for silence while she dozes quietly in my passenger seat.

The hour drive flies by and it’s not long before I’m pulling into Stella’s driveway.

“Your family didn’t decorate their house yet?” I ask, taking in the lack of holiday lights. It’s unusual for the St. James house not to be lit up in a full holiday display. Stella used to hold a holiday light decorating contest for the block. Anyone could enter, but I know in her mind her only competition was me. My dad and I would spend hours on the weekend after Thanksgiving putting up our display. Over the years, the trees in our yard have gotten taller, and our display has gotten more elaborate, so as a gift to my parents, I hire a company to install them.

Stella clears her throat. “Um, no. My dad is probably waiting for me to help him. It’s our thing.”

I put the vehicle in park and get out to grab Stella’s luggage. “Come on, sugar lips.”

On the pavement, Stella’s gaze narrows. “That’s not a nickname I would ever answer to.”

“How about honey pie? Sweetie? Pookie?”

She ignores the teasing nicknames and punches in the garage code.

“Goodbye, Dickface.”

I make a mock discerning face. “I think you’re going to need to work on that one. It’s not giving loving, supportive girlfriend.”

“Okay, Jass.” She laughs.

A warm rush of contentment fills my chest. I like it when she calls me that.

“Why’s that funny? You just shortened my name.”

“It has an extra S on the end, so it’s like Jasper and ass combined. J-A-S-S.”

I don’t bother to tell her that I like when she calls me Jas, whether it’s with one S or two. And unless she’s going to spell it out, no one will know the difference.

“Sure, that one will work.”

I grab her suitcase and move to pull it inside the garage.

“What are you doing?” Stella wrenches the suitcase handle from me.

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