Page 18 of The Holiday Fakers
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I pull it out.
Unknown: This is Piper. You can pick me up the day after tomorrow at ten
Just under forty-eight hours till I see her again.
My heart’s beating too fast, my mind racing with questions I’m not sure how to answer. Should I bring gifts for the Locke family? For Piper? What is she into now? Does she still draw? Outside of designing office company mascots, of course.
And what the fuck am I going to say to Ethan?Hey, buddy! Sorry I missed being the best man at your wedding because I was doing some dumb fashion shoot. And shame I couldn’t make the birth of your kid or your wife’s funeral because I was too chickenshit to ask for time off.
Nausea rolls in my stomach. I can’t do this. I can’t face him.
Wanting to block everything out, I close my eyes. But in the darkness, all I see are the tabloid headlines gleefully chronicling my fall from grace. Then Piper’s face as I lived up to my reputation as an unpredictable asshole.
“The last thing I want is to be famous, orinfamous, because of you.”
Fuck. I need to apologize.
To her. Ethan. The whole Locke family.
Opening my eyes I gaze at the slate-gray clouds, wondering what the sky is like over Hideaway Harbor right now. What Ethan is doing. What his kid looks like.
Marv’s right. Going back will give me closure. Then I can move on. Hopefully with the acting job of my dreams.
“Cara, sweetie, I need you to pick up some gifts when you’re out, okay?” Marv’s on his phone and pacing again. “For Brody to give Piper and her family.”
“No,” I say, rising to my feet. “I’ll do it.”
“Fifty to a couple hundred bucks each. Ask the assistants what are the most popular gifts this year.”
I grab the phone from him. “Don’t get anything. I can do it.”
“You sure?” Cara asks. “If you tell me what you want, I can pick them up now.”
I press the fingers of my free hand to my forehead. I have no fucking clue what to buy them.
Cara’s a smart cookie as well as kind, because she continues, “We can go together. I’m around Harper’s age, and I’ve seen her socials, so I can suggest a few things she might like. And perhaps something for Piper, too.”
Relief floods through me. “Thanks. Can we do this now?”
“Of course! I’m a block away, so I’ll meet you at the front of your building.”
Marv pulls up the collar of his coat as I make my way to the elevator, following me.
“You’re not coming with us.”
“Nah, I’m gonna find a stylist to come with us. Get them to sign an NDA.”
“No stylist.”
“They can do the whole family.”
“What the fuck, Marv, just stop!”
The elevator doors open, revealing a prim old lady from the floor above, holding a toy poodle dressed in as many layers as she is.
Did she hear me?
Marv nods at her as he steps inside. “Ma’am.”
