Page 54 of The Boyfriend Swap

“This room…” Perry said as he scanned the large space, his eyes Olympic-sized pools of blue. He let his sentence drop off, but I knew what he was thinking.

My parents’ estate held two dining rooms—one for cold weather and one for formal dining in the spring and summer. The winter dining room, where Christmas was held, was a Federal/Georgian style with two black marble fireplaces on opposite sides. The long dark wood table, large enough to accommodate more than forty guests, looked like something out ofDownton Abbey. But most impressive, at least in my opinion, was the mural they’d hired an artist to paint along an entire wall. It was a Tuscan landscape in a warm orangey hue that added warmth to a room mostly occupied by those not often described as warm and fuzzy.

“I know. It’s something, right?” I smiled at Perry. After we agreed our indiscretion was not up for discussion until later, we’d managed to get along. I suspected we were temporarily bonded by shared feelings of shame and nothing else, but I’d allowed myself to enjoy his company. It felt like the Last Supper before the reality of what we’d done would set in and we’d have to deal with it.

My mouth salivated at the sight of the warm crescent rolls circling the table and when the server got to me at last, I spread a hefty amount of soft butter on mine and took a bite. I closed my eyes to fully treasure the crispy outside and soft inside of the pastry. This was not a day for watching my calorie intake. The fattening dishes on the holiday menu were my most powerful motivator for pounding the icy pavement every morning when everyone else in my residence was still asleep. I also desperately needed to coat my stomach and sober up enough to nail my role as junior hostess. With my father holding court at one end of the table and my mother on the other, I was placed in the center to make sure just about everyone was in conversation-distance with a Bellows.

Marshall, a good friend and sometimes-colleague of my dad, jutted his shaved head toward Perry. “Barbara mentioned you’re an actor.” Marshall sat directly across the table from Perry, who was to my right.

“I am,” Perry said cheerily.

“She also said you were seeking agent representation.”

Perry replied, “I am.”

I subtly kicked him under the table and whispered, “Expand your vocabulary” out of the side of my mouth. Perry’s main purpose for agreeing to the swap was to make connections to take his career up a notch. At some point in the last three hours, I’d shocked myself by developing a smidgen of interest in Perry’s future, and I didn’t want him to blow it by showing a complete lack of charisma due to an alcohol-induced brain malfunction.

“My manager is great, but even he agrees having an agent on my team could make a world of difference,” Perry clarified while I nodded my head in approval.

“I represent artists through Take 3 Talent. Name dropping over butternut squash soup is tacky, but if you want to talk privately over dessert later, let me know.”

“My answer is a resounding yes,” Perry said. He smiled wide and gave a thumbs up sign. His corniness was eye-roll worthy, but I was pleased for him. There would be at least one bright spot in this dark train wreck of a day.

Marshall leaned his muscular upper body, surprising for a man probably pushing fifty, forward in his chair while blatantly scrutinizing Perry with narrowed blue eyes. “You’ve got a good look—dangerously handsome, but your face is inviting and unexpectedly approachable. I bet you don’t take things too seriously and are probably self-deprecating.”

When everyone glanced at me curiously, I realized I’d snorted in response to the laughable “self-deprecating” comment. “Sorry.” I pointed at my throat. “Tomato went down the wrong pipe.”

Perry smirked at me, but Marshall smiled politely before returning his focus to Perry. “Ever done any comedy?”

Perry sat straighter in his chair and puffed out his chest. “I’ve done some improvisational work and a couple of comedic roles in off-Broadway productions. I’m open to both comedic and dramatic roles.”

“Let’s definitely talk.” Turning back to me, Marshall said, “Your boyfriend might be the next big thing. How does it feel?”

Before I had a chance to reply using my own improvisational skills, Perry broke in. “I’m actually back on the market. Sid and I broke up earlier today.”

I didn’t even realize I’d dropped my fork until I heard metal crashing against porcelain. I lifted my butt off my seat in surprise. It figured, the second I let my guard down around Perry, he screwed me over. So much for my plan to make as little fanfare of our split as possible. Even as my head spun in embarrassment, my brain worked to recover and gain back control. I smiled sweetly at Marshall. “I thought it better to keep it to ourselves until after the holiday, but my impulsive ex here can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

Perry smiled sheepishly. “It’s true. I’m honest to a fault.”

“It’s your cross to bear,” I said, not even trying to hide the sarcastic tone of my voice.

“Did I hear something about a secret?” my mom asked from her end of the table.

I silently cursed the acoustic tiles my parents had installed on the ceiling to improve the sound quality in the room. “If it’s a secret, Mom, best not to announce it across a table of forty people. Am I right?” I flipped my hair and smiled charmingly at everyone at the table whose eye I caught—except for Perry. I wouldn’t even honor him with the evil eye. I was too annoyed at him for ruining our peace.

“It’s not a secret if it’s a topic of discussion at our Christmas dinner,” my dad called out before gesturing for a server to refill his wine glass.

And with my father’s statement, the table fell silent as all the guest—relatives, friends, and business acquaintances alike—ceased eating to stare at Perry and me.

Perry waved his hand. “It’s nothing really. Sidney and I have called it quits. Irreconcilable differences.”

“It’s all right. We agree we’re better off as friends.” I stood up and said, “And now back to our regularly scheduled programming,” before sitting back down and hoping the conversation was over.

“I knew something was off with you two today,” Aunt Eileen said.

“How could you let him go, Sidney?” my mom cried out while dramatically fanning herself with a linen tablecloth.

“Who said it was Sidney’s idea? I bet Perry broke up with her to date Jennifer Lawrence,” Great Aunt Edna suggested.

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