Page 30 of Mistletoe Bargain with the Billionaire

Yes. But no one knows I wrote it.

I’m busy grimacing when Marley steps back in. “Speaking of music, I might need your advice for my dance with Nick at the wedding. It would be the traditional father-daughter dance but with my dad being absent…” She doesn’t have to say more. I’ve sometimes suspected that Nick tries to be so responsible because both his parents have been the opposite of that.

“Well, since Nick’s your younger brother, I’d probably suggest something fun. You know, lighthearted. Give you both and everyone else a chance to laugh and blow off steam.”

“That’s exactly what I thought! Especially if it embarrasses Nick.”

We share a conspiratorial cackle. “I’ll text you some suggestions.”

“Great, thank you, Carol!” We chat briefly about the rehearsal dinner before I’m called for my manicure. “Nick sprung for the full works, I see,” Marley teases while Lydia looks like she’s been sucking on a lemon.

“Yeah. Can’t complain about that,” I say with a shrug, secretly giddy over this full afternoon of spa pampering.

And, I can’t complain about bidding you adieu,I think when I leave Lydia behind. It feels like someone’s trying to burn a hole in the back of my head with her eyes as I walk away. (Even if you didn’t go to MIT like her, I’ll bet you can guess who I mean.)

???

Later that day, Nick and I squeezed in a quick visit with my folks (and a quickie at the hotel after that) before we joined the Frosties at Tony’s Pizzeria for a business meeting. These kids are too cute and their admiration of Nick makes him blush which is equally adorable.

While the techies talk business, elbow deep in mozzarella sticks and sodas with Nick, I occupy myself by working on that new song in my journal. Yes, another Christmas song. Will I ever learn? No one is stealing this one from me at least.

We’ve got an hour before it’s time to get dressed for the late-night rehearsal for Marley and Jake’s wedding with a fancy midnight feast to follow. The wedding is tomorrow night. Then, we’ll have a couple of days free to enjoy before the family reunion and Christmas Eve at Grams’ house.

Ugh, I love my folks but the reunion is not something I’m looking forward to. Janey will probably be a pain. At least, I’ll have Nick by my side.

My parents were ecstatic about Nick and me dating. They fully bought that the billionaire who happens to be the boy from next door is in love with their daughter. Dad might’ve offered to give Nick his advanced, and unasked for, blessing for marriage in the middle of Christmas cookies and tea if I hadn’t distracted them with pictures of Mr. Jinglebell on my phone.

“He’s your grand-cat after all.”

“He’s very fluffy, Carol. Will he be getting any, um… less furry siblings at some point?”my mom had asked.

She thought she was being sly but I know Nick heard her. He promptly started choking on his gingerbread cookie. It’s not like that’s ever going to happen. I mean, I might be game for kids someday. The baby-making attempts sure would be fun. But, even if we’re having very real sex, to him, our relationship is just a sham for the holidays.

“Why, my oh my, what does my little eye spy? It’s a Wilder in the Wild!”

I don’t even have to glance up to know it’s Janey. And she has the audacity to call my Christmas-themed cursing stupid when she talks like that? “Hey, Janey.”

“If it isn’t Little Miss Sing-a-Song-of-Sixpence, here in Whistler! Are you headlining a big concert I’ve not heard of while you’re in town? Can I have your autograph?” she asks with faux playfulness and that poisonous smile I recall all too well.

“I responded to your email about the reunion.” I know she got it. Mom said she’d called around asking if I was really dating Nick Frost. I am once again wishing I’d told Mom about that sooner.

“Oh, that’s right. You and Nick Frost are dating.Riiiiight. Kids, come say ‘hi’ to your Great Aunt Carol!”

“We’re the same age and I’m your cousin, not their great aunt. And, Nick is right over-”

I’m cut off as Janey’s brood spills into my booth, a rambunctious group who I love despite their wicked witch of a mother. “Did you really get kicked off ‘American Idol’ during your first audition, Great Aunt Carol?”

“Mom told Dad you’d probably have to hitchhike home. Hitchhiking is dangerous in case you didn’t know.”

“Where’s your boyfriend? Mom said he’s imaginary. I had an imaginary friend when I was little. I hope you can outgrow yours someday.”

Okay, Janey’s devilry is rubbing off on her offspring.

“What’s in your pretty book, Great Aunt Carol?” the youngest of the brood, cute little Adeline asks.

I slam my journal closed, not wanting any prying eyes asking about songs I’m writing.Or mistletoe bargains made with a certain billionaire. I’d never live it down if Janey knew.

Before I can answer any of their questions, a very welcome voice says from behind me, “She’d be your first cousin, once removed, not your great aunt, kids. And I assure you, I’m not imaginary.”

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