Page 99 of Spying Under the Mistletoe
“I think you might be wrong about that,” she tells me.
“I’m definitely not wrong. My grandfather has never cared about me the way he did my cousins. It hurt me as a kid, but once I realized the monster he really is—and I don’t mean the blue kind who eats cookies—it didn’t bother me anymore.” I slip my coat on and grab my purse from my desk chair.
“Maybe the contract has nothing to do with your grandfather and everything to do with Nikolai.”
“I haven’t spoken to him in years, so I highly doubt that. Killing me is as likely to flush Nikolai out of wherever he’s hiding as Landon pretending to date me was.”
I head for the classroom door. Isabelle walks alongside me.
A memory slips in of Landon’s strong hand holding mine as we walked to his jeep, and my heart clenches.
It’s only been three days since I was in his arms and since we last kissed, but I miss him the way you miss the sun after countless days of rain.
Which is exactly why I need to volunteer tonight. The seniors always know how to brighten my day—even when it’s their days that I’m supposed to make cheery.
“See you tomorrow,” I tell Isabelle before slipping into the driver’s seat. Even though I doubt there’s an actual contract out on me, Isabelle will still be here tomorrow, pretending to be the school’s receptionist. Landon’s colleagues are convinced Nikolai will eventually contact me.
Based on what I now know, probably not.
As I drive past the familiar black SUV, I wave at Adam, knowing that he’ll be following me to the retirement residence…and then following me home afterward.
“Where’s your hot boyfriend?”Agatha asks, peering over my shoulder. “I do so love it when he joins you. He’s a delightful piece of eye candy.” She winks at me, and I laugh.
“I’ll be sure to tell him that.” I don’t have the heart to admit Landon and I broke up.
Or whatever it is when you’re no longer with your fake boyfriend.
Everyone here loves him. It didn’t take long for him to charm his way into their hearts once he started volunteering with me.
“So, where is he?” Bethany asks, also surveying the room.
“He had something he needed to do tonight and was unable to join me.”
“What did he have to do that was more important than hanging out with a bunch of delightful old ladies?”
I grin at her. “Believe me, it would have to be super important before he skipped on hanging out with you.”
I mentally groan at how at some point, I’ll have to come clean with everyone here and tell them he’s never coming back. Agatha and Bethany will no longer have their favorite piece of eye candy to drool over.
And Samuel and the men will no longer have their favorite poker player—that’s right, they finally convinced Mathilda to let them play poker again.
By favorite, I mean Landon sucks at poker and loses to them about ninety-nine percent of the time.
I spend the next two hours helping with the different recreational therapy sessions designed to keep the seniors active, both physically and mentally.
The “Where’s Landon?” question pops up numerous times. And each time I’m asked it, I inwardly curse him for instilling himself into so much of my life in such a short span of time.
I have no idea how I’m going to break the news to them that he’s no longer volunteering here.
Maybe I can concoct some super cool story to explain his absence. Something dramatic that will rivalThe Titanic.
Minus the iceberg.
“I didn’t know you work here,” a man says behind me. I turn around to find Eric, the good-looking man who helped me the other day with the Christmas decorations in my storage locker.
He smiles at me. It’s a friendly smile, but it doesn’t have the same impact as Landon’s sexy smiles. They really should be registered as lethal weapons—no woman can survive them.
I feel my mouth stretch into what I hope resembles a genuine smile. That’s what I get for letting my thoughts drift to my ex-fake boyfriend. “I volunteer here. What about you? What are you doing here?”
