Page 72 of How He Got the Girl
I shake my head.
“You’ve been missing out,” she tuts.
“You’re not going to tell me what it is?” I laugh.
She shakes her head. “I’ll let you experience it for yourself.”
I let Mallory get ready in the bathroom first while I call my parents and wish them a Merry Christmas. As I set my phone down to get dressed, a series of texts from Rhett comes through.
RHETT
Merry Christmas, man.
Are you going to be at the showing of your movie in LA at the beginning of January?
I’d love to finally meet Mallory.
My agent had called me two days ago, letting me know that the movie was doing so well that the director wanted me and Brittany to do a surprise appearance at a movie event with influencers in LA. She wants me to bring Mallory with me, but I haven’t worked up the courage to ask her yet.
ME
I’ll be there. TBD if Mallory’s coming.
Merry Christmas!
RHETT
Great, I’ll see both of you there.
ME
She may not come.
RHETT
I’m speaking it into existence for you.
I wasn’t optimistic before, but after last night, I definitely am. I throw my phone on the bed and get changed right before Mallory pops herhead back in the room.
“You can have the bathroom now,” she says. “I’ll be downstairs.”
I finish getting ready for the day and head down. When I walk into the kitchen, I’m hit with the sound of Mallory’s laughter as she talks to Granny. Todd has his arms wrapped around Angie’s middle and bends down to kiss her temple. Connor is quiet, sipping on a cup of coffee. I step farther into the room and am hit with a chorus of merry hellos.
I hug Granny. “It looks like you’re having a good morning.”
“The best.”
“Can I get you any coffee?” Angie asks me.
“I can pour myself a cup if you point me in the direction of your mugs.”
She shoots Mallory a wide-eyed look around my shoulder before pointing at the cabinet over the coffee maker. “There’s creamer in the fridge unless you drink it black like Connor.”
“I drink my coffee like it’s dessert.” I grab the largest mug I can find from the cabinet. It’s covered in little red trucks carrying Christmas trees, which feels fitting for today.
“You and Mallory both.” Angie laughs, grabbing two bottles of creamer from the fridge and setting them next to me. The oven timer goes off, and she perks up. “That’ll be the monkey bread.”
I choose the peppermint-mocha creamer and pour it into my mug until the coffee turns a light, milky color. “I’ve been hearing about this breakfast all morning.” I turn and watch as Angie pulls a bundt cake pan out of the oven before carefully flipping it over onto a large circular tray.
