Page 5 of Fake it 'Til Christmas
“Don’t say it,” I warn.
“—I’m just saying ...maybe lead with the bakery,” he says, tone gruff but weirdly sincere.“Because that is something tangible.Impressive, even.”
My brows lift.“Did you just compliment me?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“No, no.I’m writing this down.Framing it.Getting it embroidered on a pillow.”I pause.“Actually, I don’t sew.Can you sew?No, impossible.You have strong, judgy hands.”
“I swear, sometimes talking to you is like trying to argue with ...”He rolls his eyes.
“No.No, you need to finish that sentence.”
He tosses his hands up in the air and shakes his head.
“Come on, Soren.You can do it.”I give him a playful smile.
“My mother.I can never win an argument with her.Ever.”
“Thank you,” I say, beaming.“I’m honored to be a good opponent like your mom.”
“That wasn’t—never mind.”He pinches the bridge of his nose, and I’m pretty sure I see a smile twitch at the edge of his mouth before he buries it under a sigh.“I just don’t want to see you crash and burn over some guy with mystery credentials and imaginary livestock.”
I glance down at Skylar.“You hear that?He gives a compliment and then kicks my puppy in one sentence.It’s an art form you shouldn’t learn.”
Soren gives me a long look as if he’s deciding whether or not to push further.Then, finally, he grunts.“The bakery’s a big deal.Don’t screw it up.”
My grin falters—just a second—but it’s enough to let the warmth in.Because beneath the sarcasm and stubborn glowering, that was ...pride.Approval.The Soren stamp of reluctant support.And that?That means more than he’d ever admit out loud.
“I won’t,” I say softly.“I really want this to work.”
He meets my eyes for a moment, serious and unreadable.Then: “Good.Because I’m not babysitting your regrets if you change careers again.”
He’s so maddening.Not just because he’s clearly judging me like the rest of my family, but because he’s always there—right there—whenever things fall apart, no matter how hard I try to hold them together with ambition, duct tape, and the occasional vision board.
The catering business was actually doing well.Like, really well.Then fucking COVID came in like a wrecking ball—it nuked the entire operation.
Was that my fault?Nope.Did I still somehow feel like it was?Of course.
I still take the odd job because word of mouth says I’m good at it.
But here’s the thing no one seems to notice: I didn’t fall apart.I pivoted.I found other jobs.I didn’t go broke.I didn’t move back home or beg anyone to rescue me.I kept showing up, paycheck to unpredictable paycheck and made it work.
And maybe I don’t have a fancy title or a corner office with a view.Maybe my siblings have group chats about interest rates, and I still pay my bills on the due date and can’t afford to set them on autopay.
But I’ve never asked my parents for money like all my siblings have done many times.Not once.That should count for something.
Shouldn’t it?
Unless the universe has another way to fuck this up for me, I’m finally going to win at life and maybe the damn holidays.
ChapterTwo
Soren
“I got engaged,”my sister Daisy announces the second I answer the phone.
No hello.No preamble.Just a verbal grenade thrown straight into my otherwise unremarkable day.
