Page 86 of Christmas Crisis
“I don’t doubt it.”
James picked at something on his shirt. “Shoot. I’m covered in sap.”
“I guess that’s a sign for us to take a rain check on date night,” Marley said, patting him on the belly. “You need a shower, and I don’t know if our unexpected guest is going to be staying.” She eyeballed the front door.
“I admire your restraint,” James said. “I know you want to listen.”
“Do you blame me? I can’t believe Stone Caseman is at our house. I’m not a superfan or anything, but I don’t think we’ve ever had a celebrity in Coleman Creek.”
“He’s not that big of a celebrity,” I muttered. “In Los Angeles, he’s barely a blip.”
“But you’ve known this whole time that they’re friends?” James gave me a meaningful glance. He hadn’t brought up the conversation we’d had after the wedding, but I knew he had questions about how I'd gone from not even realizing I was demi to dating Miranda.
“They’ve only been friends since last September,” I answered. “Not the whole time I’ve known her.”
James's cheek ticked up. “Thanks for the clarification.”
I glared at him.
“Well, I can’t believe neither of you ever mentioned anything,” Marley said.
“More Miranda’s call than mine. And I think you can answer your own question. All this attention she’s getting now. She didn't want any of it.”
“I understand.” Marley nodded. “As outgoing as Miranda’s always been, even with her Instagram, she’s never been a fame-seeker.”
“True,” James added. “I’m just curious why Stone is here. I mean, Will’s my best friend and I love him, but when he’s in Seattle, I don’t just make the five-hour trek to pop in unannounced to say howdy.”
The front door opened and closed as James spoke.
“It’s my fault,” Miranda announced, coming into the living room. “I wasn’t replying to Stone’s texts and calls about everything going on, so he drove down to check on me. He’s filming outside Vancouver, so it wasn’t too crazy of a drive.”
“Did he leave?” James asked, looking over her shoulder toward the door.
“He got a room at the Hampton since he needs to head back in the early morning.”
“He drove all this way to have a twenty-minute conversation with you?”
“Uh-huh,” Miranda answered Marley’s question but kept her gaze on me.
“What about?”
Miranda frowned at her sister. “I just said. Everything going on. Friend stuff, Marls.Privatestuff.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry. It’s just weird, but… You’re okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Like I said, it's on me that I didn’t respond to him sooner. Obviously, he’s concerned about what people are saying about us. As much as my accidentally posting the photo was the catalyst for all this, he blames himself for putting public scrutiny on me.”
Countless times over the past few days, I’d seen her deny Stone’s call requests and sigh over his texts without replying. I'd assumed she'd been talking to him when I wasn't around. Apparently not.
“Why weren’t you responding to him?” Marley asked gently.
“Just being sulky,” she said, lifting a shoulder. “Not my finest hour. I am a little teed off that all this happened, and especially how it affected my job. You think I’m all kittens and fresh-baked banana bread, but I can be as passive-aggressive as the next person if I’m pushed hard enough. I figured he’d be irritated. I didn’t think he’d get in a car and drive here.”
Everything Miranda said made perfect sense. Marley and James seemed to take her explanation at face value. But I could tell—it wasn’t the truth. Or at least, not the whole truth.
“Did you make it right with him?” James asked.
“We’re good,” Miranda said. “Ourfriendshipis back on solid ground.” She emphasized the word in my direction. “But once we resolved things, he was wiped out from his drive, so I told him to go to the hotel.” Her eyes softened as she told Marley and James, “Sometimes he has trouble being himself around new people, and I think he was just too tired to play the part of Stone Caseman tonight, if you know what I mean.”
