Page 136 of Holidating
“Because…?” He sets her down and grabs her suitcase and carryon. As predicted, they weigh as much as a small car.
“Because of the Step Monster’s caroling party.” She makes a face. “It’s awful.”
“Not a fan of caroling?” he asks as they head toward the parking lot.
“Oh, caroling is fun. But this party is misnamed. It’s actually a concert—her and the Twins of Evil.”
Last summer her father eloped with the woman Nicolette refers to as the Step Monster, and so now she has two step-siblings.
“They play instruments and sing. All three of them. Which should be fun, but somehow isn’t.” She skips through the parking lot, kicking up snow. “So drive slowly, okay? I might be able to miss the first half. I can tell her the roads were slick and unplowed.”
Damien opens the passenger door for her. Last time he drove her to the airport, she’d waved off the backseat and climbed in front with him. “Kind of silly of me to sit in back, right?” she’d said. “Makes it harder to talk to you.”
And, yeah, it also makes it easier for him to get way too invested in the hour or so they share together. But it’s the best kind of torture.
After she’s tucked safely into the car, he opens the hatch and hauls her luggage into the back. “I didn’t even know luggage could weigh this much. What do you have in here?”
“Gold bars. Weapons. The bodies of my enemies.”
“Right.” He closes the back and then climbs into the driver’s seat. He starts the engine and notches the heat up, but then turns to her without putting the car in gear. “You know,” he says quietly. “On my way down, there was an accident in the northbound lane. Traffic was stopped. But it’s probably taken care of by now.”
“Bummer,” she says. Then she grabs his wrist suddenly, and a zing of warmth runs up his arm. “God—am I a terrible person? I don’tactuallywant someone to have an accident so I don’t have to listen to my step-mother warble her way through Greensleeves.”
“But what if nobody had to die?” he suggests with a smirk. “You could justsaywe got stuck waiting for the accident to clear. And we could, I don’t know, get a pizza at Lui Lui.” He points out the window. “It’s not even a mile from here.”
Nicolette sits back in her seat suddenly. “Damien Rossi, you are agenius! What do you like on your pizza?”
“Just about anything.”
“We’re doing this!” She rubs her hands together. “I’m starving. And at home she’s probably serving something like saddle of rabbit in fig sauce.”
“Huh,” he says, navigating out of the parking lot. “Sounds a little fussy.”
“Sheinventedfussy,” Nicolette scoffs. “And she makes it very clear that I don’t measure up to her standards. There are all these little comments about my clothes. My hair. My lack of makeup. While her kids smirk at me in their designer wear.”
“Hmm.” Damien has a few thoughts about that, which he should probably keep to himself. But he’d bet any amount of money that Nicolette’s Step Monster is jealous of a girl who looks ready to star in a Hollywood role after exam week.
There can’t be many women in Vermont prettier and more enchanting than Nicolette.
If there are, he’s never met one.
Thirty minutes later they are seated in a booth, finishing their shared Caesar salad, and waiting for their pizza. The place is packed, butthey were shown to the last available booth, which is in view of the open-jawed pizza oven where flames dance cheerfully inside. George Michael sings about giving his heart away over the sound system.
“God, I needed this,” she says, rubbing her eyes. “Calories are necessary before I face the family. I’msotired. I crammed for my poli-sci exam until three o’clock in the morning.”
“Did it go okay?”
She shrugs. “I guess. I know a lot more about the differences between Mexican, Canadian, and American democratic principles than I ever wanted to.”
“And your writing?”
“What writing?” Nicolette grabs her straw and takes a sip of Coke. “I can hardly remember the plot of my book. There’s just no time to work on it. But what about you? Do you have your sketchbook?”
“It’s in the car,” he dodges. Last time they were together, he shared some of his pages, but it made him feel self-conscious.
“Where in the car?” Before he can even process the question, she slides out of the booth.
Seriously?“Don’t go out in the snow. It’s not worth it.”
