Page 57 of Holiday Hopefuls
Sliding my gaze over to my sister, I watch while she quirks her lips this way and that. Her brows furrow and smoothen, only to reenter the wrinkly zone. Finally, I hear, “Huh.”
“What does that mean?” The volume from my previous shared secret remains. Groaning, I contort my face into what in no way can be considered attractive. I probably look like I’m dying from scurvy. Maybe I will.
But then who would water Gilmore?
I haven’t set up a will yet, choosing who to bequeath my botanical babies to when that time comes.
Surely Ian will take some of them on.
“Breathe, Calloway.” Connie’s tender voice reminds me that we both need to get home safely, so it wouldn’t do any good to get in a car crash right now.
“I so should not have told you that. Here, I’ve been worried about getting caught and I managed to spill my own secret,” I ramble. “He told me everything would be fine, that no one would find out. But he didn’t count on my own big mouth?—”
“Calloway.” The sharp tone coming from my timid sister shocks me into silence, which she’s probably as thankful for as I am. When it’s clear that I don’t plan on continuing my verbal tirade anytime soon, she continues, “First, I promise not to tell the others.”
Does this woman have a shiny halo above her head, or am I seeing things?
“But why did you feel like you had to bring a fake boyfriend to Thanksgiving?” She frowns. “And, um, where did you find … him?”
“Come on, you know Mom,” I grumble. “She’s been asking more lately when I’m going to settle down. Like, if I can’t have a graduate degree, I can at least get my M. R. S. or something. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to find someone.”
“It’s the family name,” she smirks.
Using one hand to rub my now aching forehead, I pull into the space by Connie’s car. “I’m kinda surprised we beat Chris home,” I mutter.
Connie scoffs. “You drove like a mad woman. Am I that bad to spend time with?”
Shame floods my cheeks. “No.”
“I actually like you, you know?”
Biting my lower lip, I smile at my sister. “Good to know. You’re, um … you’re actually my favorite sibling. You don’t make fun of me—of what I do.”
Connie tilts her head to the side, loose hair draping itself over her shoulder. “Why would I make fun of you?”
“Everyone else does.”
Raising light brows, she nods to herself. “The others don’t really dislike you, particularly, either.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Like I said, I think Chris is jealous—whether or not he’d admit it. Genny and Scott are just so wrapped up in their own worlds, they don’t really know any better.”
I shoot my sister a skeptical look. “Mom and Dad?”
Connie hesitates. “I don’t really know,” she admits. “But I do know that they were impressed by Oliver. Even if he did spendthe evening dropping subtle hints that were overall pretty well-disguised, if I do say so myself.” She laughs.
I can’t help but wince. “Was he that obvious?”
“No, don’t worry about that.”
“Why do I sense a ‘but’?” I ask wearily.
“But … ” Cautious eyes find mine, “I do think it would help your case if Oliver came with you to Aspen Point.”
“You’re kidding,” I deadpan.
“There was a reason you brought him home in the first place, right?” she insists. “Well, I don’t think it would look great to Mom and Dad if it looks like you couldn’t make it work with the only man you’ve ever brought home other than Alexander.”
