Page 29 of Boss's Baby: A Fake Fiance Romance

“All right, all right.”

We drove on, Katie taking control of Spotify and blasting Taylor Swift for the next hour—and singing along to every word. And I didn’t mind. The music kept me from thinking.

Before too long we made the turnoff and spotted the first sign for Pine Shades, letting us know we were only about twenty minutes away.

“Oh my god,” said Katie. “I’m so excited. What do you want to do first? I’m thinking when we get back and settled in we can go to Carr’s Farm and get some cider and donuts. Then after that go for a walk downtown and check out all the decorations. Then if you’re feeling up to it—because I already am—we can head out for a drink or two.” She clasped her hands together in total excitement.

“Remember when I said I wanted to chill out?”

“I know, I know. But I also know you’re only saying that. I bet once we’ve gotten back to the house and had a chance to hang with Mom and Dad for a bit, you’ll be as eager to have some fun as I am.”

“Hmm. Maybe some apple donuts would be kind of good.”

“See!” her eyes flashed. “Knew you’d come around.”

Fifteen or so minutes later, we started down the main road of the town. OK, I loved New York, and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else and all that. But home managed to cast a spell on me every time I came back.

Pine Shades was about as picturesque of a town as you could imagine. Population around forty thousand but still had the same small-town charm and feel of an upstate New York place out of some kind of storybook. Downtown was a crisscross of small shops and restaurants, the sidewalks bustling with families and couples all bundled up for the chilly weather. Lights hung across the roads, and the streetlamps curled with tinsel. Warmth ran through me as I drove slowly through the town center.

It was odd—I’d been back for Thanksgiving, but something about this homecoming felt different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what.

“There’s Gray,” said Katie, pointing to a far-off stately building of off-white stone that always looked to me like some kind of medieval fortress, the grounds surrounded by a tall steel gate. “Want to stop in and say hi to some old friends?” She flashed me a knowing smile.

I laughed. “Yeah, watch the alarms go off when they realize someone whose family makes less than six figures has come onto the grounds.”

“Such a nice school,” said Katie, her face nearly pressed against the glass as we passed. “You ever wonder what it would’ve been like to go there?”

“Maybe back when I was still in high school. But no point in thinking about those things now.”

I drove on, making our way through the more well-to-do part of town and eventually reaching our side of Pine Shades. The houses transitioned from lovely mansions to single-family ranch homes on small plots of land, working-class houses for working-class families like ours. We passed Pine Shades High, a three-story school of red and white brick, still imposing after all these years.

And then I pulled onto Fog Lane, our street, and we were back home.

“Did you text Mom and Dad and let them know we were almost here?”

Before Katie had a chance to respond, the front door opened, Mom and Dad stepping out of the cozy-looking light of the house.

“That answer your question?”

I parked, and the two of us got out. Linda, my mom, rushed over to me, her tiny and slender body almost a blur as she threw her thin arms around me.

“My babies are here!” she said, pulling me tight.

“Hi, Mom!” I said, happy as hell to see her.

Once she was done with me, she wasted no time hurrying over to Katie and bringing her into the same hug. Over her shoulder I spotted Mark, my dad, dressed in his usual attire of flannel shirt tucked into slightly oversized jeans. Dad was the one I took after—the two of us had the same blue eyes, lean features, and quiet strength. Katie was all Mom, her pixie-esque shape matching her bubbly personality.

Dad stepped over, the smallest hint of a smile on his middle-aged face. “There are my girls.”

A couple of warm hugs from him later and the hellos were complete.

“Now get inside,” he said. “It’s freezing out here.”

He didn’t need to tell me twice. Together we stepped over the threshold of the front door, the interior warm both in a literal and figurative sense. Mom loved the holidays, and I had more than a few memories of her and Dad getting into it in the middle of November because Mom wanted to get the decorations up as soon as possible. The small but cozy house—seeming smaller with each year I grew—was decked out festively, the tree near the fireplace and nearly scraping the ceiling.

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