Page 52 of Holiday Hopefuls
Pushing the remote start, I hand the key to Callie. “Why don’t you go wait in the car?” I suggest.
Callie frowns but doesn’t argue, and I can tell she’s trying not to roll annoyed eyes when she sees her brother. She slips out the front door and I push it shut behind her.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask casually. Though, to be honest, he could be ready to punch me and I wouldn’t be surprised.
Shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks, Chris smiles up at me in a way that makes my skin crawl. “Look man, about earlier.”
“Ah.” I allow my mask reserved for difficult, narcissistic patients to slip into place.
“I was just trying to impress upon you that Calloway really doesn’t contribute as much as the rest of us, yourself included. To society, or our family.” The little prick has the audacity to shrug, smirking up at me. “So don’t judge my friend too harshly based on my sister’s opinion, Mr. Rhodes. She only takes care of kids while the rest of us deal with real issues.”
Sighing, I smile back at him, a gesture he wrongfully takes as agreement. “Then consider me unimpressed. Oh, and Chris?” I clap him on the shoulder. “It’s ‘Dr.’” With a wink to his stunned mug, I slip out the door.
The car ride back to Callie’s apartment is completely void of tension and is instead filled with Callie singing along to Christmas songs playing on the radio. I have to admit, it’s a great feeling. Both of our families clearly believed our story. My family seems to think my life is going well, and Callie’s overwhelmingly egocentric family will hopefully start showing her a bit more respect. By the time we pull up in front of Callie’s building, her nosy neighbor is peeking out the curtains, as if anticipating our arrival.
Putting the car in park, I know it’s too much to hope that she invites me inside. But the sting still radiates through my system when Callie unbuckles and throws her arms around me. The hug only lasts about three seconds, but her intoxicating scent of liquid chocolate lingers even after she sits back in her own seat.
Bright eyes look back at mine, her smile effervescent. “I, um, I guess this is it.”
“I guess so.” I don’t bother hiding my frown, which she quickly mirrors.
“Uh, I guess so,” she repeats. Shifting in her seat, any remaining ounce of happiness seems to dissipate. Delicate fingers fidget in her lap. “Well, thank you for everything, Oliver. You have no idea how much I appreciated you being there with me tonight.”
My eyes search her face, trying to discern what she’s feeling. “Of course,” I nod. “And thankyou. You know, for everything.”
“Oh, my part was easy,” she laughs. “Your family really is great. Though, I’m sure Blythe will probably ask for details at my next several pilates classes.” Those ruby brows furrow.
I palm the back of my neck, willing myself to think of absolutely anything I can say to make this woman stay with me just another minute longer. “I’ll try to see if I can get her to back off a bit. I know she can be tenacious.”
“That she can.” Callie grins. “Um, I guess I’ll let you get back to Nacho.”
“She loved you.”
If it’s even possible, Callie’s smile widens. “She’s the sweetest girl. Will you give her lots of kisses from me?”
“I will,” I promise, trying not to think about the feel of Callie’s lips.
And how I’ll never feel them again.
“Good. I don’t want her to forget me.”
I smile at my fake girlfriend, automatically reaching to place a hand on hers before thinking better of it. “Nacho could never forget you.”
Swallowing roughly, Callie watches the hand that dared to move toward hers. “Goodbye, Oliver,” she whispers. Without waiting for a response, she gets out of my car and heads to her front door.
“Goodbye, Callie.” I watch until she slips inside, shutting the door behind her. And when I pull away into the night, her sudden absence in my life makes my stomach roll.
11
Callie
“It’s just so frustrating. The astronauts have to be able to kick the box on the spacecraft, which is supposedly a reasonable request. But apparently, just asking them not to kick it is out of the question.” Imogene groans into her soup.
“Will it float once they’re in space?” Across the table, Chris pretends to look mildly interested in my oldest sister’s dilemma. Maybe he’s regretting his life in finance and looking for something to take him to new heights.
Imogene eyes him suspiciously. “It’s likely, why?”
Chris shrugs. “Maybe they’re just trying to plan on it accidentally getting kicked in midair, not necessarily on the ground.”
