Page 26 of Holiday Hopefuls
Even Callie turns back to her group, taking a drink from a tall pint glass. Cider, judging by the label etched into the side. Sweet with a tart aftertaste, just like I’d imagine she would be after running out of my office, leaving glitter all over my sofa.
The world of crafting’s personal virus.
It’s been three days and I’m still finding that crap everywhere. Even places she didn’t touch.
“That must’ve been one hell of a conversation.” John clapping my shoulder pulls my attention back to the three nosiest people in the room.
Reluctantly, I turn back to the maniacal grin I already know is waiting for me on John’s face.
“Would either of you boys like to, y’know, fill us in?” Calm, curious, and patient. Jo really is the perfect opposite to her wife, who is demanding, nosy and needs information five years before she might use it.
But it’s what makes Rindy good at her job.
The roll of my eyes gives John all the permission he needs. “A couple weeks ago, our boy Oliver and I were in this very bar. Mom and Pop Rhodes had been giving him a hard time about needing a wife—again, I might add.”
Joanna’s brows furrow with each new statement, trying to piece everything together.
Rindy, on the other hand, looks fascinated.
Kill me now.
“After a couple of drinks, we got to talking about familial ideas and projected happiness. That’s when Oliver had a bright idea.” John’s nothing if not a good storyteller. He should’ve been a damn poet. “With the holidays coming up, there will be plenty of time for families to pressure us single folks into finding love. So what if Oliver were to pretend to be their date to the festivities?”
“Why do I get the feeling that’s not all?” Jo’s cautious voice eases the tiniest bit of tension in my chest, a small smile breaking out.
“Because this is what sets Oliver apart as the ultimate holiday date—” John McNalley, the ultimate salesman “—as a prominent family therapist in our area, he’ll convince their family thateverything believed to be wrong with them is actually the family’s doing.” John crosses his arms, satisfaction written all over his face.
I’ve never seen Rindy speechless, but even I’ll admit it’s a pretty nice sight.
“Okay,” Joanna nods, “but what does … holy crap.” And two and two are now four. “But wait, Callie?”
My turn. “Remember, I just said this in passing. Then my good friend”—I look pointedly at the man next to me—“took it upon himself to actually act on the idea.”
Both women turn incredulous faces in John’s direction.
John simply shrugs. “All I did was open a document, make a flyer and post it in the bar. Anyone could’ve done it. It’s not my fault someone acted on it.”
“Well, can we see this flyer?” Rindy presses. She holds out a perfectly manicured hand.
“I only made the one copy and threw the original notes away after I stole it from Oliver’s bag.”
“And Callie shoved it back in her purse before she ran out of my office,” I add. Since we’re obviously on a Tell All.
Jo waves her hands in front of her face. “Wait a second, when did Callie come see you?”
“Tuesday afternoon.”
Rindy whips around to fully face John. “You’ve known about this since Tuesday and are just now saying something?”
“I didn’t know anything for sure,” John reminds her. “I mean, that’s when I knew someone came to see him about it. But I didn’t know who it was. Besides, it’s not like you really would’ve known who Callie was outside of the Halloween party.”
“Of which I was the hit,” Rindy gloats.
“Which brings us back to,” Joanna redirects at me, “what did you tell her?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Did you tell her you’d do it?”
