Page 27 of Unwrapped

“In New York?”

“No. The entire U.S.”

“Really?” I snort. “Well I guess this tiny slice of heaven is the perfect place to hang low.”

She nods enthusiastically. “Somehow he has this place rigged. Monitored.”

I snort. “That’s nonsense.”

She shrugs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Where’s my room? I need to change and get some rest if I need to worry about the boogie man coming out here to get me.”

“We have one of those, too. He could show in town tomorrow.”

“Good Lord. What is this place? It looks like a town inside a snow globe but filled with characters from one of my mom’s films.”

“It’s paradise. You’ll see. Come on.”

I follow her down a wide hall and up a set of wide stairs. “This is the back staircase that leads right to the kitchens. She takes me to the top floor and down the hall to a corner room. “Welcome home.”

“Har-har.”

But as the door slowly opens. I wonder if she’s right.

A welcoming fire blazes across from a four-poster canopy bed covered in soft cream linens with a plush red velvet throw. I had taken off my boots downstairs and my feet sink into the snow white faux-fur rug as I cross to the windows. I gasp in awe at the sight below. More garland with lights wrap around a dock and to my right an orchard is lit up since every tree is covered. “This is incredible. Why did you decorate the entire property if the place isn’t full?”

“Oh well… just because we’re hosting Springdale’s first New Year’s Eve ball in the newly renovated grand ball room downstairs.”

“That wasn’t on your website.”

“Oopps. Electronic devices give me migraines. Sue me,” she shrugs.

“I didn’t bring anything fancy.”

She eyes my designer jeans and sweater. “Somehow I think even your pajamas are fancier than anything most girls wear around these parts.”

“Are there any single men in Springdale?”

“Loads,” she winks. “It’s a paradise of testosterone.”

“Well sign me up. After the chump I was with, I need a good lay. He never cared about making me feel good. I faked everything.”

“Why did you put up with that then?”

“Because I’m pathetic,” I groan sinking down on the bed. “All my friends are married with their two point five kids, golden retrievers and picket fences.”

“Marriage is a crock of shit. All my friends used to complain the sex was non-existent and their husbands turned into fat lazy assholes three years in.”

“God. I hope not. What’s the point then?”

“Did you come here to husband hunt?”

“No. I came here to get laid and find my life’s calling.”

“There’s plenty of men willing to do that.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll be a Merry Christmas for me after all.”

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