Page 44 of The Holiday Ex-Files

Mara pressed her lips together but was shaking from holding back her laugh. “Wow.” She giggled. “Are you sure you aren’t high on sugar now?” She reached out to feel my forehead.

“Sugar highs don’t cause fevers.” Not to say I hadn’t felt a tad feverish yesterday. “This is serious.”

“Okay.” She wrapped an arm around me. “First of all, if you want, I will go to Hobby Lobby with you and keep you away from the Christm—I mean the holly jolly aisles.”

We both laughed.

“Secondly, I’ve never seen a gorgeous man work at Hobby Lobby, so I think you’re safe.”

“You don’t really shop at Hobby Lobby,” I reminded her. Mara was a crocheter, but she was a yarn snob and Hobby Lobby didn’t do it for her.

“I’ve been in there with you plenty of times, and it’s mostly been pimply teenagers wearing blue vests.”

This was true.

“Thirdly, you don’t like the bar and club scene, so you would never ask a man out for a drink. You’re more of a ‘let’s stuff your face with bread or pasta’ girl.”

“Good point.”

She gave me a good squeeze. “And lastly, you are way too smart to get married again.”

“Yeah. Totally smart. Genius-level smart.”

Liar, Miss Sparkly was calling me out.

Mara patted my arm. “See, you’re okay.”

I let out another deep breath. “Thank you.”

“That’s what best friends are for. Now let’s snap some photos. Mama needs some commission and a new wardrobe.”

I handed her one of the reflector discs before reaching for my camera bag.

You know, Miss Sparkly whispered, she only says that about marriage because she’s just as scared as you are and she doesn’t want you to get hurt again. You’ve both had some terrible luck when it’s come to men. But is it really smart to write them all off? Think about it.

Well, of course I was going to think about it now. She was in my head. And maybe she was right. Not about writing men off per se, but definitely about Mara.

“So how was it, hanging out with Noah?” Mara asked, shaking me out of my head.

I pulled out my camera. “Oh, you know, he was Noah.”

“Annoying, then?”

“He can be,” I sort of lied. “He’s really good with his nephews.”

“Did you find out who he’s in love with yet?”

“I think so.”

Mara’s eyes flashed with excitement, waiting for the juicy reveal. “Do tell.”

“He wouldn’t tell me, but I think it’s Annika.”

Mara tapped her finger against her lip, thinking. “That makes sense. She’s definitely intimidating. She’s the one that keeps the picture of her impaling her ex on her nightstand, right?”

I nodded.

“And didn’t they go to homecoming or something together in high school?”

“Yep.”

“You might want to warn Noah to hide the knives around her.”

Or just warn him altogether. I don’t think she’ll make him happy.

That’s not our call, I had to remind the Miss.

“Good idea,” I responded to Mara.

Mara looked around the cozy living room in the single-story modern bungalow. “I want to make sure we showcase the wood beam ceilings and window seat in this room.”

“You got it, boss.”

“I do love it when you call me that,” she teased.

Honestly, I didn’t think she was teasing. She wasn’t being rude at all, but I think deep down she longed to be the boss. To find her place in the company. She lived in Ben’s shadow. Ben had been given his own office to run when Mara was every bit as qualified as he was, albeit younger. But that was Jay, their dad, for you. I wouldn’t say he was a sexist pig, but . . . he was. However, I couldn’t say that to Mara’s face. She loved her father, despite their complicated relationship.

I got my camera primed to go and walked over to the corner of the room where I could get the best angle. I took a few practice shots for fun, and to check the hotspots, so I could properly utilize Mara’s reflector disc–holding skills.

“So why did you change your mind about the witch costume?” Mara asked offhandedly.

I bit my lip, not sure what to say. It was an easy answer, yet I felt like I couldn’t tell her about that conversation with Noah. Which was crazy. Mara was my best friend. We didn’t keep secrets from each other. She even knew my biggest, most heart-wrenching secret. Yet, I couldn’t tell her because the way Noah saw me was different. Not that Mara thought I was a witch. It’s just that, for now, I needed both Mara’s and Noah’s points of view, unfiltered from each other. And maybe, just maybe—if I was being honest with myself—that conversation I’d had with Noah felt intimate to me and I was embarrassed for thinking that way. No need to bring it up.

“Dressing up as a witch is kind of cliché,” I told a half-truth. It really was cliché. I felt like a terrible friend. “I was kind of thinking of being a Gallagher Girl. Remember those books?” Books about a group of girls attending a very exclusive high school for spies. The main character’s name was Cammie or Cameron, just like me. Though hardly anyone ever called her, or me, Cameron.

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