Page 59 of Jingle Bell Jilt
I have a hard time believing this. Evan is a blast to hang out with.
The parking at Universal Studios is just as busy and organized as Disney World was. But even still, it takes us nearly fifteen minutes to park the car. Then there’s the forty-mile hike from the parking lot to the front gate, and I’m not even exaggerating. At least not very much.
We stand just inside the entrance and Evan holds his hands out and up, like he’s some evangelist preacher. “I give you Universal Studios. What do you desire to do first, my lady?”
I look at him like he has lost his mind. “Are we using our formal voices?”
“I thought perhaps I might choose our game today?” He grins like a little boy.
I lift my brows. “Oh, please, do explain.” This is a new development. No one ever plays my games with me, let alone makes one up for us to play. It makes my little heart go pitter-patter.
“What if we only speak in accents for the whole day?” He looks as if this is the best idea he’s ever had.
“But I don’t speak in any accent well enough to sound convincing.”
“Neither do I, Miss Taylor. But that’s part of the fun, is it not?” he says in a terrible British accent.
I can’t help but laugh. “People will think we’re complete idiots.”
“Indeed,” he lifts his shoulders. “And the problem with that is?”
I blink at him like five times, my mouth hanging open like a doofus. I feel completely out of my element. I mean, I knew that we looked like dorks in our ugly sweaters, but an ugly Christmas sweater contest is actually a thing. But this feels very…I don’t know, juvenile? Or maybe just exposed.
I look at him and see the excitement and anticipation in his eyes. He’s been such a good sport to do all the lame things I’ve asked him to do. Why am I even hesitating?
“All right, guv’na,” I say in the absolute worst accent ever. I do a little jump and heel kick like I’m the star ofOliverorBilly Elliottor something.
Tears fill his eyes as he laughs. “That was terrible.”
“Ey, now. You didn’t use your accent, mate.” If I’m going in, I’m going all in. All or nothing here, friends.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Ma’am.” He tips a non-existent cowboy hat and shifts to a Western accent of a non-descript location.
I motion ahead of us. “To ‘Ogsmede, then?”
“Righty-o,” he does a little jig that looks like it could be fromMary Poppinsor something similar. So apparently choreography is part of this game too.
People are already staring at us and pulling their children closer to them until they get far past us.
He grabs my hand and tugs me down the sidewalk. I know I should feel completely idiotic, but I have to admit, it’s some of the most fun I’ve ever had. It’s not that we’re acting like complete idiots that’s fun as much as being with someone that’s okay to have fun and not be worried about what people think of us. It’s like we’re Phoebe onFriendswhen she’s running in the park. I don’t care if I look like a moron if I’m a moron with Evan.
We go on several rides in Hogsmeade before getting in line for the Hogwarts Express. Once we’re settled in our car, I turn to him. “So, if you sold your company, you must be pretty smart.”
He shrugs. “Pretty smart, pretty lucky. It’s not always easy to see where one ends and the other begins.”
I lightly smack him on the arm. “Whatever. You invested in rental properties. That shows some degree of intelligence.”
He frowns. “Seeing as one of said properties is currently ripped down to the studs, I might not agree with you.”
“But when it’s finished, you’ll be able to charge more, I bet.”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Did you go to school?”
He nods. “Yes. And I even graduated from high school.” He gives me a straight face.
“No college?” Not that I care, it just doesn’t fit with the picture I have of him in my head.
