Page 38 of The Night Before Grumpmas
Noelle
I’m soout of place. Like a pauper pretending to be royalty. I should be at home in pajamas, watching a romcom or some holiday musical, drinking hot cocoa with marshmallows, and scribbling in my journal. Instead, I’m here, acting like I belong in some high-society catalog.
I smooth the fabric of my dress for the umpteenth time, trying to convince myself I’m not out of place. Not at all. Look at me—looking all princess-y with a very, very hot man next to me.
I steal a glance at the gown, which hugs me in all the right places, the black fabric catching the light with every step I take. Delicate roses, encrusted with diamonds, are pinned into my chestnut-colored hair, styled in soft waves cascading over my shoulders. And then there’s the necklace—a diamond piece that glistens like it belongs in a museum—and the matching earrings, which are, let’s be honest, a lot.
Too much? Probably. But for one night, I can’t deny I feel like I’ve stepped out of a fairy tale . . . even if I’m still half-waiting for the clock to strike midnight.
Yep, I’m like a princess in a fairy tale, but not the lost-in-the-woods kind. More like the I-stumbled-into-this-fancy-life-and-wait-this-can’t-be-right kind. My fingers trail along the necklace. It feels foreign, like it’s weighing down the reality that Jacob and I don’t belong in the same world. It’s not just that he’s perpetually grumpy and I try to find the good in everything and everyone. The joy in life and finding the silver lining in everything. Nope. It’s because he’s in another tier where people go to extravagant parties and wear gowns everyday, the same way I wear my leggings.
I couldn’t be part of his world, just like he wouldn’t fit in my small-town, cozy-life routine. Every part of this is a little overwhelming. I’ve never worn anything like this. Never even imagined it. And yet, here I am, hoping that at least for tonight, I’m enough.
Enough that he’ll actually see me. Enough that maybe he’ll kiss me. Enough that he won’t ditch me by the end of the night for someone less . . . complicated. Because let’s be real, I’m always a little too much for people and somehow never quite enough to be loved in the long run. You know, the classic quirky girl with “great potential” but no staying power.
Yay, me. I’m in no way quirky. There are plenty of people that don’t like to fit in the box, just others like to make us feel like we’re outsiders making mistakes and not getting on with the program. When maybe the truth is that they’re the ones who are in the wrong.
Still, it’s hard to keep those thoughts at bay, especially when I’m trying to remember all I learned from those self-help books I’ve been reading—you’re enough, you’re whole, you’re fabulous.
Apparently, those self-help books were supposed to be “fixing” me after my breakup with Chad. He was the problem—oh, I know that now. But back then, I was so invested in our relationship, so sure we had a future, and then . . . poof. It all fell apart like a badly written soap opera. One minute we’re picking out curtains, the next, he’s gone with my much younger cousin, and I’m left wondering, why wasn’t I enough?
But hey, at least I got to start over, right? Silver linings.
Okay, let’s be real—it hasn’t been that great. And just when I feel like I’m maybe ready to kiss a toad, here I am, expecting way too much from the king of grumpy toads. He’s going to push me away after that kiss, I just know it. Make me realize, in some cold-hearted, sarcastic way, that I’m still lacking something.
“You okay?” Jacob frowns, his expression full of concern. His sudden softness is . . . unsettling. Why does he have to be so nice right now?
Jacob’s attention tonight is . . . confusing. Not just tonight, though—the entire day. After our non-date apple picking, he gave me this cute little necklace to remind me of the day. I was speechless. I’m still speechless. I love the present, but what’s his motive?
Tonight, he’s been so attentive—pulling out my chair, guiding me with a light touch on the small of my back, giving me those long, lingering looks that make my stomach do flip-flops. He’s always been grumpy, sure, but tonight, there’s something softer. Like he’s actually seeing me, not just the person standing next to him. And I’ll be honest—it’s making me feel things I shouldn’t. Dangerous things.
“Can I get you something? More champagne? Food?” His eyes are on me, and suddenly, I feel like Cinderella at the ball, waiting for everything to disappear.
I glance at my glass, still half full, and smile. “No, I’m good.” But before I can even breathe, Jacob clears his throat, and I catch him muttering under his breath, “Fuck.”
My eyes widen. “What happened?” I ask, seeing the surprise and, yes, a flash of annoyance crosses his face.
He doesn’t answer right away, his gaze flicking to something—or rather, someone—behind me. When I follow his line of sight, I see her. Tall, impossibly perfect, with striking red hair cascading down her shoulders, making her way toward us like she’s gliding on air.
My stomach drops. This is where he tells me where to get a car and head home, isn’t it?
I try to act normal though. “Who is that?” I ask, even though I already know she’s important. I mean, look at him—tense, bracing himself like he’s about to face off with a hurricane.
“Julia Kingsley,” he says, the words sounding like a curse. “My ex-girlfriend . . . and business rival.”
Of course. Of course she’s beautiful. I instantly feel all that princess-like confidence I was slowly building start to evaporate. Why does the universe love throwing curveballs my way?
“After the week she had, I thought she wasn’t going to be here,” he mutters, clearly irritated.
And just like that, it hits me. This is why he brought me. To avoid her.
I try to keep my voice light, but there’s no stopping the edge creeping in. “Umm, is that why I’m here? Let me guess—fake girlfriend, fiancée, wife?” I attempt a playful tone, but I’m sure it’s not landing as well as I’d hoped.
Jacob turns to face me, his expression honest, almost apologetic. “Neither one of them. More like someone to keep me company so I’m not alone. I’m not really good at pretending shit. It’s not my style.”
Well, at least he’s honest. But still, the reality stings more than I’d like to admit. So, I’m not here to make her jealous. I’m just here to make sure he’s not alone. Wonderful.
Did I really think Jacob McCallister—the guy who barely tolerates me—was suddenly going to fall for me? No, this makes way more sense. He needed someone by his side, to make it look like he wasn’t fazed by her. And here I am—dressed up like a goddamn princess, playing the part.
