Page 78 of Holiday Hopefuls
The driver pulls up to the permanent Rutherford residence at Aspen Point Lodge, a humble and meager six thousand square foot luxury cabin with seven bedrooms, eight bathrooms, twenty-foot ceilings, a private pool and hot tub, gym, and home movie theater, all overlooking the mountains that surround us.
A starter home, really.
Oliver’s jaw drops as we climb out back into the cold. “Holy sh?—”
“Calloway, Oliver.” My father walks down the brick driveway in his annual holiday loungewear. Somehow, the sweaters keep getting worse. But the pajama pants have pictures of dachshunds all over them this year, so it’s one for one, really. “We were wondering when you’d get here.”
I groan internally. “Who’s already here?”
“Everyone but the twins. They should be here in a little while. Some meetings came up.”
From the corner of my eye, Oliver sweetly tries to help with our bags.
My father, on the other hand, stares at him in confusion.
“Meetings?” I ask to pull his attention away from Oliver. “But Christmas is the day after tomorrow.”
“The world of high finance doesn’t stop for a holiday, Calloway,” he chides.
I can sense a lecture coming on when Oliver drapes a protective arm around my shoulder. “I think Callie’s just ready to have everyone together, is all.”
Nodding, I look from Oliver to my dad. “What he said.”
Oliver’s fingers trace invisible circles on my shoulder, causing my body to shiver in response. Peeking down at me, a smile tugs on his lips. “Well, Mr. Rutherford, we appreciate the personal greeting, but I better get this one inside before she freezes.”
Deciding to really ham it up, I let another shiver rattle my teeth.
Unamused, Dad simply blinks before motioning for us to follow, as if I haven’t been here multiple times a year since I was a kid.
Inside the door, the temperature difference is like walking into a brick wall.
Mom does love the fireplace here.
“The bags should be in your room by now,” Dad tells Oliver before turning to me. “Calloway, I trust you remember the way?”
“I have a Bachelor’s degree, Dad, not amnesia.” I honestly have no idea how I refrain from rolling my eyes. “I know you see both as afflictions, but I promise, one is so much worse than the other.”
Dad’s eyes narrow, but he only sends a curt nod my way before heading off to the master bedroom.
“So, would you like the grand tour, or the condensed version for now?” I ask, giving my fake boyfriend the toothiest smile I can manage. “Because I’m nothing if not an excellent tour guide.”
Oliver snickers. “Oh, I’m sure. But after that last comment to your dad, we may want to lay low for a bit.”
“Good point,” I mutter. “And there’s no telling who else we would run into. Okay, the condensed version it is. On the middlefloor, we have the main living areas. Kitchen, living room, the Christmas tree of all Christmas trees, that kind of thing. Oh, and the master bedroom is that way.” I gesture around the general space, earning myself a breathtaking smile from the man who will likely need to have himself committed when we get home. Taking Oliver’s hand, I lead him toward the stairs. “Down on the first floor is the gym and movie theater. That’s also how you get to the pool and hot tub.”
“Good to know,” he nods along.
“And upstairs are the other bedrooms, each with their own bathroom.”
“It’s really modern,” Oliver observes, looking around as we pass through the living room.
My free hand ghosts the brown leather sectional. “Mom has it redone every couple of years to keep up with trends.” And boy, has she outdone herself this time. Floor-to-ceiling windows along the wall looking out over the mountainside, stonework climbing to the tallest point on the opposite wall where the fireplace emits heat straight from Hades, all while cedar panels, shined to perfection, line themselves in perfect order on most other surfaces within eyesight. Adding all the holiday decorations is just the cherry on top.
Climbing the stairs, he says, “I thought your dad said it’s only Chris and Connie that aren’t here yet.”
“He did.”
“Then, where are the others?”
