Page 36 of A Man for the Holidays

“I don’t know what you expect me to do, Spencer. I don’t have that sort of power. We agreed, a man for the holidays.”

“I know it’s what we agreed, but I want to change it, you know, like a three wishes type thing.”

Now I know I’m sounding like a desperate, love-sick puppy dog, but the truth is, I haven’t known what love really feels like until now. And knowing that I’m about to lose the one thing that matters the most to me more than anything in this world, pains me.

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” he says.

“Yeah, so am I,” I say.

I race out of the store, not even looking back at the man as I make my way through the mall and back out to the parking lot.

When I get home, I find a police car parked outside my townhouse, then I hear a woman’s voice call out my name.

“There he is. He’s the man that stole my mannequin. I bet you anything, if you search this house, you’ll find him inside.”

I kill the engine on my bike, remove my helmet and swing my leg over my motorcycle, then make my way over toward the police officers and… Olivia?

“Is something the matter, officers?” I ask.

“You stole my mannequin Spencer, and not to mention the priceless clothing he was wearing too. Where is it? I want it back.”

“Miss, please. Let us handle this,” one of the officers says.

“Spencer?”

“Yes,” I acknowledge.

“This woman has reason to believe that you’re hiding an expensive dummy––”

“Mannequin!” Olivia cuts in.

“Excuse me, an expensive mannequin inside your house.”

“Well, that’s absurd, what could I possibly want with a mannequin?” I ask, trying to act natural.

“You’re in love with that mannequin. For all I know you’ve probably used him to experiment in some sick and twisted sex fantasy.”

“Miss!” The other officer calls out.

“Sir, we have video surveillance that shows you spending quite a lot of time within the store and taking particular interest in the missing mannequin. Now you can make this very easy or very difficult, the choice is yours. All we’re asking is for a quick look around the place.”

Reluctantly, I agree, then lead the way up to the front entrance to my apartment building, where I place the key inside the lock and push open the door. Once inside, Olivia brushes past me to the first bedroom, and panic washes over me as she pushes the door open. She turns on the light, and I sigh in relief when I see that Quinn isn’t in the room. They make their way through the rest of the house, searching every room and living space big enough to fit a six-foot something mannequin. After ten minutes, the tallest of the two police officers calls off the search and tells Olivia and his partner to step outside.

“He’s got him hidden somewhere.

“Olivia, what would I want with a mannequin?” I ask.

“I don’t know, but I know you’ve got him hidden around here somewhere. And until he’s found, I don’t want you stepping one foot inside my shop. Ever.” she orders.

“Fine by me,” I tell her.

She storms past me with a loud huff while raising her shoulders. The two officers give me an appreciative nod, then hand me a business card and give me the usual jargon about calling them if I somehow manage to find the missing mannequin. Once they’re outside, I stand in the doorjamb and watch them get into the cop car while Olivia steps inside her own vehicle. She looks at me through her front windscreen, piercing me with a death glare, but I simply smile and give her a wave. She drives off down the street, then the two gentlemen in the police car, pulls out of the park and follows suit, and when they’re gone, I close the door and quickly head inside.

“Quinn?” I call.

Nothing.

“Quinn?” I yell a little louder this time.

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