Page 78 of The Holiday Hate-Off
I know all about that, but I don’t want to freak her out, so I just say, “Oh?”
“That’s kind of why I’m here.” She glances briefly at the bridge and laughs. “I feel like I’m at a literal crossroads. In my career. In my love life. Everything.”
“So what better place to go than a bridge?” I ask with a smile. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. You should be able to make your wish without anyone intruding.”
“Actually,” she says before I can walk away. “Can I ask you something?”
I pause, surprised. “Of course.”
She shakes her head, her nose scrunching up. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this. You’re going to think I’m nuts.”
“I think it just snowed on that bridge because I asked for a sign, so I probably am nuts. I’m the last person who’d judge you.”
She gives me a grateful smile. “How do you know if someone really likes you, or if they only like the idea of you?”
I lift my eyebrows. I’d whistle if I could, but I’ve never had that talent. “That’s a heavy one.”
My mind shifts to Enzo.
Is that what he likes? The idea of me? Lucy, the twenty-eight-year-old virgin?
Am I one more challenge to be conquered?
Amanda looks around, ensuring we’re alone, and then takes a half step closer. “You know who I am, don’t you?”
I nod, because obviously I do. “And I’m Lucy.”
“Nice to meet you, Lucy.”
A sigh escapes her as she lifts her head the winter sky, eyes closed. I’m about to sneak off, leaving her to her Wishing Bridge moment, when she speaks.
“Everyone thinks they know me because they’ve seen my movies.” She toes the snow with her boot, a humorless laugh escaping in a puff of hot air. “Or read the many tabloids about me.” She meets my eyes. “But that’s not really me, you know? And I’ve already been wrong about someone in the past, so I’m not sure I know how to tell if something’s real.”
I give this point the consideration it deserves, then say, “All you can do is be yourself.” I smile. “I’ve never had a talent for being anyone else, and plenty of men have no patience for who I really am. But I’ve always been okay with that, because if we were right for each other, they’d like the real me. So be defiantly yourself. Maybe you’ll scare some people away. But the ones who genuinely like you will stick around.”
She smiles at me. “Defiantly myself, huh? I like that.”
“Can I give you a hug?”
“As long as you don’t ask me to sign your coat with a Sharpie.”
“I think I’d rather be your friend,” I say, and give her a quick hug. “Good luck with your wish. I’m starting to think the bridge really is magical.”
“This whole place is magical,” she says with a smile.
And it feels like that tonight, it really does.
“I’ll see you around, Amanda,” I say. Then I tighten the scarf around my neck and walk back toward my apartment, feeling a new conviction hardening in my chest.
This is what I’m fighting for. To be a part of this place. To make a home for myself. To be loved for who I am.
I want to believe all of that is possible.
I want to believe I can finally have a family that won’t be torn away from me.
When I get home, I check my phone and find a text from Charlie:
Call me immediately, or you’re on my naughty list.
