Page 106 of Holiday Hopefuls
Callie’s lips form a flat line as she sighs. Taking her hand under the table is the least I can do—a gesture that earns me a sly smile. “Is there something you needed, Alex?”
“Alexander,” he corrects.
It takes every ounce of my willpower to not haul him outside to learn a little respect.
“Just thought I’d see what other Rutherfords I could find before I sat down with my family,” he shrugs.
Doing my best to swallow the simmering irritation of Alexander’s presence, I sling an arm around Callie. Never taking my eyes off my girlfriend, I dismiss him. “Thanks for stopping by, man, but I need to feed this one. See you around.”
Callie grins, mirroring my growing smile.
Alexander grumbles some excuse about cold salad as he heads off into the crowded restaurant.
Rindy, that dear woman, doesn’t bother with formalities. “Ex-boyfriend?”
“Our fathers are friends,” Callie groans. “They thought we’d be good together. My brother encouraged it.”
My grip around her shoulders tightens at the thought of her with another guy.
Especially that one.
“Geez, if that’s the kind of guy your family set you up with, then I’m glad Oliver agreed to a fake relationship?—”
Beside his sister, John’s eyes widen. “Rindy, be quiet.”
Following his stare, my entire system short-circuits. Jaw dropping, I can’t tell Rindy to shut up fast enough.
Eye twitching and nostrils flared, Chris Rutherford is rage incarnate.
“Because if that’s how the rest of your family treats you, they deserve to be gaslighted.”
Chris grinds his jaw. “I knew it.”
19
Callie
Opening the interior garage door to the residence is like walking into a funeral parlor. A thick, heavy silence hangs over the main room with every single occupant feeling bereft and confused. There are no records crooning softly in the background. No fire popping in the hearth. Despite the warmth, a chill sends shivers down my spine.
My parents and siblings, with the exception of Prescott, all sit on the sectional, and I send a quick thanks to the hot chocolate gods that Goldie must be upstairs taking a nap.
It feels like the night I told everyone I wanted to be a teacher.
Disappointment.
Condescension at the audacity to choose something so mundane.
Only Connie showed me any kind of encouragement for something so outside our family’s standards.
No matter how fast Oliver and I ran from the table and back to the car, Chris was faster. The volume of the crowdedrestaurant only made our pursuit that much harder. Anyone who knew me tried to stop us, looking questioningly at Oliver and primed for Rutherford family gossip. Unfortunately, I’ll have to tell my parents there will be some social relationships they may need to repair after I all but shoved one of Dad’s sleazy business associates out of the way.
Even if I would never admit that I’ve wanted to do just that for several years now.
Connie peeks up at us from her spot on the couch. Eyes wide, her face conveys every horror I’ve dreaded since that night in Theo’s. The night my world shifted.
The night Oliver and I agreed to deceive our families.
My heart and stomach fight to be the most dramatic organ, twisting themselves into knots and becoming lodged in my throat.
