Page 51 of Fake It for Christmas

ROWEN

Reading the email felt like watching a balloon slowly deflate in real time.

Except the balloon was my whole life.

I held my phone in the bathroom, staring at the screen as the music and chatter of the Christmas party came through from past the door.

It was over.

My acting agent in New York—the only person who had still taken a chance on me after my family’s scandal—was finally ditching me for good.

Just a few weeks ago, my agent had made it seemed like things were actually looking up for me. He’d been in talks to book me a commercial for a giant coffee company in Germany, a place that could make me some money without knowing anything about my family’s tarnished reputation.

But the email I’d just gotten meant that none of that was going to happen.

He was terminating service for me immediately. And now, I had essentially no more shreds of hope for any career back in the city.

I swallowed hard, locking my phone and sliding it into my pocket. I’d walked into this party with Shane feeling like I was on a cloud, happy to be with him andsofucking ready to play the part of his boyfriend. I felt robbed, like I’d been promised such a happy holiday evening, and now I was that deflated balloon.

Just do it for him, I told myself as I gripped the handle on the bathroom door. I had to head back out.

The last vestige of my life as I knew it had just fallen away, but I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to at least ensure Shane could be happy.Stuff your own feelings somewhere far away, just like you always do.

“There you are,” he said, brightening as he saw me. “We have to keep making our rounds. There are about thirty people who are dying to meet you.”

It hurt even more to look at his perfect smile. To see how happy he was, how much simpler it was for him to have a whole, big beautiful family that he wasn’t deeply ashamed of. What would that even feel like?

I sucked in a breath, putting on my best happy poker face.

For a long while, I’d hidden my shitty past from Shane. All I had to do was hide this bad news from him for the rest of the night.

“I need a drink, and then I’m diving into this party with you,” I said.

Shane’s parents' house was a bit newer and bigger than his own, but it still had all of the charm that his house had. They didn’t skimp on glitzy Christmas decorations, and in their living room, the exposed wood beams along the V-shaped vaulted ceiling all had plenty of lights and tinsel and garland hanging from them. Big windows looked out to their backyard, which was full of little lit-up stars and snowflakes.

“Drinks this way,” Shane said, leading me toward the kitchen.

“Oh, fuck,” I said when I saw the setup on the kitchen island. “I’ve never seen this much food in my life.”

They’d gone all out, and plenty of people had brought food and treats to the party, too. Every last inch of the countertops, the island, and the long dining room table were covered in trays of finger foods, snacks, sweets, and bigger serving trays of traditional holiday foods. Another long table at the end of the dining area was packed with liquor bottles, beer, and wine, just about any drink you could ever want at the ready.

“My parents love their holiday party, but this year it’s bigger than ever,” Shane said. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

He reached over and squeezed his arm around my waist.

All at once, my heart felt like it was filling up and cracking at the same time. Tonight was everything I’d wanted, other than that stupid email reminding me of who I really was. Where I came from.

“Right. Liquor,” I said. “I’m going to go for that cranberry-ginger mimosa your sister was talking about when we first walked in.”

“Mariel’s got good taste,” Shane assured me. “Which reminds me, she wanted you to meet our other cousin, Laney. Let’s head into the living room.”

The next hour was a total blur of meeting more and more of Shane’s family members. The music turned up, people started drinking and laughing more, and even more people kept walking through the front door.

It was pure magic in Christmas party form. I even saw two of Shane’s elderly distant relatives come together, hugging as they were in the same room for the first time in thirty years. Shane told me the short story: they were two women who were cousins, and had spent lots of time together as kids. But they’d fought a lot during middle age, and had only forgiven each other about a year ago. Tears streamed down their faces as they hugged.

“What were those two ladies even fighting about, back in the day?” I asked Shane as we mingled, walking past a group of kids playing some kind of card game on the hardwood floor in the hallway.

“A refrigerator,” Shane said.

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