Page 44 of A Very Snowed In New Year
It’s early, but I ask the flight attendant for a little bottle of whiskey when she brings me my coffee. Fuck it—it’s still the holidays according to everyone besides my dad, and I just had the kind of bizarre fifteen minutes that might only make sense with the help of alcohol, clever editing, an upbeat jazzy score, a Tom Hanks voice-over, and festive thoughts of Piper biting her lip while she stares at my erection.
When we’ve reached cruising altitude and I’ve signed on to use the Wi-Fi, I find a text from my agent telling me that Shay has a new assistant named Piper and that’s all the business manager will tell us.
This is good.
I think?
It’s less weird anyway.
I think.
This must be some kind of Cyrano thing. I’ve heard stories of guys falling for AI-generated texts on dating apps. I guess it’s kind of charmingly old-fashioned that Shay realized how lame she is at texting and got another human to do it for her.
Right?
It definitely makes it easier to go back to imagining my doe-eyed Piper in a miniskirt gently stroking me while articulately explaining the virtues of romantic-comedy logic before I do things that aren’t funny or cute to her.
There’s another text.
From Shay Nicholls. From her phone number, not in the Backroom app.
SHAY:Hey! Just wondering if you’ve made a decision about New Year’s Eve. Need to know because I’ll have to send my assistant to the cabin to get things ready tomorrow morning if so. I’m flying in from Sedona tomorrow, so…
Shay always uses that peace-sign emoji when she texts from her phone number. Never on the Backroom app. I never noticed that before.
And maybe it’s the swirl and buzz of whiskey and caffeine in my bloodstream, but something that feels like a plan is starting to form in my brain. It may not be a rational one, but it’s a plan. Or a resolution, more or less.
ME:Hi. Do you only have one assistant?
SHAY:Yeah. Why?
ME:I’ll meet you there. Give me the address of the cabin.
SHAY:Amazing!
SHAY:So excited :)
I’ve decided I’m glad I didn’t tell Piper I’m the guy who found her journal yet. Because if she agrees to meet with me I’ll know she’s doing it because of the emails. Not because I play a heroic dragon rider in some movies.
I pull up the contact info for my uncle’s property manager.
I just hope Piper Puckett likes comforting surprises as much as she claims to.
THIRTEEN
Piper
JUST THE TIPSINESS
I can’t believe I was finally in an actual, physical room with Holden Everett Archer and I just froze, like Meg Ryan in the middle of oncoming traffic.
There were about twenty other girls rubbing up against him, but I just stood there staring, like a weirdo.
It felt kind of electric, though, when he was looking at me.
I mean, he wasreallylooking at me.
I felt seen.
