Page 1 of Christmas Crisis
Chapter one
Miranda
NOW
Liar, Liar Pants on Fire
Slimy Little F*ckb*y
Stone is the Absolute Worst
Scrolling through my Instagram feed, dread clawed at my stomach. The app’s incomprehensible algorithm knew my habits, that I always slowed down at mentions of Stone. And now it had plenty of material to show me. I lay in my bed and swiped through post after post of vitriol. The online haters had found their latest outrage.
Be Honest, You Always Suspected Stone was a Creep
Top Three Reasons to Hate on Stone Caseman
Stone Caseman Bites the Hand that Feeds Him
This was not good. And the worst part was, it was all my fault.
I slammed my phone down on the bedside table and sat up against the headboard, running my fingers through my hair. The knot in my chest tightened. I’d already texted Stone, but he hadn’t replied. I decided to give him a few more minutes before calling. Holding a pillow to my nose, I huffed my frustration into the cotton. Should I delete the photo? Or would that look like an admission of guilt?
Picking my phone back up, I opened the app and forced myself to assess the potential damage.
The image itself was open to interpretation. A selfie of me and Stone squeezed together on a couch. His arm hung around my shoulders, fingers splayed over my bare biceps. My head tilted toward his neck. I remembered the day. We’d gone body surfingoff the coast of Maui before retreating to our secluded rental. We certainly looked cozy. Still, one picture could be explained away.
The problem was that internet sleuths had gone through every photo in my feed, looking for clues to prove their more salacious theories.
Look in the background, it’s obvious she’s at Stone’s house! That picture is from the coffee shop Stone goes to. I’m pretty certain there are pics of Stone with that jacket she’s got on. The woman she’s with is Stone Caseman’s personal assistant.
Just as I finished reading the last one, the woman herself messaged.
SHOSHANNA (STONE’S PA):Are you up? I’m calling in five minutes.
SHOSHANNA (STONE’S PA):I’m assuming you’ve seen? What were you thinking?
SHOSHANNA (STONE’S PA):Never mind. You can tell me when I have you on the line.
I groaned and fell back against the mattress. It wasn’t even seven o’clock. My plan had been to sleep in for the first time in months. Then my phone started pinging. And pinging.
And pinging.
Last night, I’d been feeling sorry for myself. Everything was jacked. Stone. Work.Leo. I’d spent the late evening hours with cheap vodka, Hulu, and french fries before falling into bed.
Part of my pity party was in response to the fact that today was the first Thanksgiving in years I wouldn’t spend with my sisters. Maureen and Marley had left for an off-the-grid trip with their partners. They were staying at a friend’s cabin and planned to do the big turkey dinner there and then hang out for ten days to relax and go snowshoeing.
Our entire lives, I’d been theoutdoorsyone, so the irony wasn’t lost on me that the first time my sisters wanted to dosomething sideways of a city or beach retreat, I was stuck in the office and couldn’t get away. Then again, as much as I hated being on my own for the holiday, I had no desire to be the fifth wheel on their romantic trip.
Because they hadn’t invited my boyfriend.
To be fair, they also didn’t know he existed.
Scratch that. They definitely knew he existed. They just didn’t know he was my boyfriend.
Also, Leo might be there.
But even without those deterrents, the possibility of my going was a non-starter. I’d only been hired on at my new job in September. It was too soon to ask for time off. Luckily, the office closed for the week between Christmas and New Year’s, so at least I’d be able to go home to Coleman Creek then. That left me four weeks to feel sorry for myself.
