Christmas confessions, p.1
Christmas Confessions, page 1
Christmas Confessions
Astor Family Novel, Volume 1
J.M. Guilfoyle
Published by J.M. Guilfoyle, 2022.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
CHRISTMAS CONFESSIONS
First edition. October 21, 2022.
Copyright © 2022 J.M. Guilfoyle.
Written by J.M. Guilfoyle.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE | Where is the guest of honor?
CHAPTER TWO | Anyone order a side of spectacle?
CHAPTER THREE | Ditched again
CHAPTER FOUR | Thirty seconds of perfection
CHAPTER FIVE | Aftermath (Probably should have slept in instead)
CHAPTER SIX | Food is the way to a woman's heart
CHAPTER SEVEN | Ketchup is a perfectly normal condiment!
CHAPTER EIGHT | Questions
CHAPTER NINE | The Bet
CHAPTER TEN | Crumpled memories
CHAPTER ELEVEN | The aftermath (Again?)
CHAPTER TWELVE | The last few days have been nothing but bad ideas
CHAPTER THIRTEEN | One pungent lunch date
CHAPTER FOURTEEN | Did someone break in?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN | Lights, garland... still need a tree
CHAPTER SIXTEEN | Red envelope
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | Gut instinct
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | DO NOT RIP THE VERSACE DRESS!!!!
CHAPTER NINETEEN | Stuffed into a mold
CHAPTER TWENTY | Standing up
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | What's this?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | Epilogue
About the Author
For my husband. My best friend and rock.
CHAPTER ONE
Where is the guest of honor?
Lucas
Lucas paced towards the Rielly Gallery’s front windows in search of better cell reception.
“You’re an idiot.” Christian Astor, his best friend, assaulted him from behind.
Was Lucas an idiot? Yes. He didn’t deny that. Granted, he had no basis for why he was one at this moment and didn’t care. Gritting his teeth, Lucas checked his phone again. Five bars. Zero calls. Zero texts. Not even a direct message on any platforms. The damn thing had to be lying to him!
Wait. Of course!
Rielly Gallery was the centerpiece in an up-and-coming district in Brooklyn. A renovated warehouse, with an exterior of those highly sought after aged red brick and an interior filled with pillars and walls covered in new drywall all painted bright white. Blank canvases for whatever art was being featured that month. This month, the featured artist was a photojournalist who’d captured pictures from the last year in Syria.
Lucas remembered a time when the steel used to build warehouses caused havoc on cell phone signals, which could theoretically be the case. Steel was playing havoc on his cell phone signal.
Lack of cell reception was the only plausible reason Bella Astor, his other best friend and Christian's twin sister, was not chewing him the hell out.
No. Lucas thought of another reason.
Maybe that crafty blond socialite was torturing him. Making Lucas imagine all the ways she could eviscerate him for his role in bringing her to her mother’s insane PR stunt.
He squinted at the cell phone screen, hoping to see the bars drop to zero, and was sorely disappointed, then asked, "Why am I an idiot?"
Chris fiddled with a wisp of light brown hair in the reflection of a sculpture. 'Sculpture' was a loose term for the metal monstrosity.
All the sun-bleached tones from summer finally faded from Christian’s hair. Now fewer people mistook Lucas for Chris' twin. A thought Lucas never quite understood. Six inches separated the two boys in height, and where Chris had long, lean muscles, Lucas was broader, more muscular. Their most similar features were in their faces, but even then, they didn't look that similar.
“You’re right. Let’s see. Why are you an idiot today?" Chris moved to adjust the buttons on his tuxedo jacket and straightened his already perfectly situated vest. "How about this?"
Here it comes, Lucas thought.
“You should have just picked up my sister! Win-win. Bella gets here, more or less on time — ”
Lucas added under his breath, “Would have helped more if the mayor was on time.”
But Chris continued, uninhibited, "— and you would have had time, confined in your rusted out Corolla, to ask her the hell out!" He grabbed Lucas' tie and tightened it like a noose. "Bonus, the crap-olla might have broken down, and you would be forced to fend for your life with my crazy ass sister in arctic temperatures. Who knows what you would have had to resort to stay alive until the tow truck got there. And this entire fiasco might be over already. Because I would've accepted the award in Bella's place, there'd be no potential for my sister to screw everything up. And I would be free to take that brunette goddess home sooner rather than later."
“The server staring at you?” Lucas griped, ignoring the dig at his car. He loosened his tie.
"The one I'm about to get a drink from? Yes. That one." Chris flashed a wry smile, catching not only the girl in all black with a sleek brown ponytail but every other server in a ten-foot radius and a few of the Astor family friends as well. "Also, if you didn't catch it, I'm insinuating —"
Lucas slapped Chris’ hand and backed away. A few heads turned in their direction. “I know what you’re insinuating,” Lucas hissed and stared at the ceiling. Heaven forbid Lucas would rather form an actual relationship with a woman than just have sex.
“What?” Chris asked. The sudden outburst caused more people to turn and watch them. “I’ve come to the conclusion you’re the only guy that can tolerate Bella’s specific brand of,” Chris made a face Lucas couldn’t put a name to, then gave up looking for the right words altogether.
Lucas checked his phone again. Still nothing. Not even an emoji. “How romantic. You want me to hook up with Bells because no one else can tolerate her.”
“Hooking up with her might...”
“Don’t finish that! You’re a really wonderful brother.” Lucas said sarcastically while simultaneously trying to keep his calm. “And so romantic.”
“Says the man who is such a hopeless romantic he can’t even ask the woman he loves out on a date. And he sees her daily.”
When put like that, Lucas sounded like the biggest idiot in the world.
Chris steered him back towards the interior of the gallery. The brunette server mingling among the crowd disappeared from sight, so they stopped where a photo of Bella had hung until recently. Chris insisted the gallery move it and now they stared at a photo of a family huddled together.
The image of the earlier photo stayed burned into Lucas’ mind.
Bella. Scrubs and a messy mass of light-colored hair covered in dark blood and crumpled against a stone wall. Rebar punctured the wall. Mere inches from losing Bells forever. Nightmares still plagued him.
"All I'm saying is you missed a golden opportunity with Bells. And this would have gone so much more smoothly if you had gone down and picked my dumbass sister up."
"I swear yesterday you said if I stepped foot at the screening event Bells' is hosting, I would, and I quote, 'never return because Bella is a succubus and I cannot say no to her.'"
"That is true, actually. You can't say no to Bells." Chris laughed at his own joke. They watched as the server he'd been eyeing all evening as they turned back into view. "Well, either way, I'd still be going home with miss...what do you think her name is?" Chris blew a ragged breath at the next enlarged, gritty gray-scale photo they passed. "You're whipped and not even dating Bells," Chris said dismally. "She smiles and bats those eyes at you, and you can barely muster a single word response. It's wretched. And I have had to watch it...” Chris stopped, making a point of counting ridiculously slowly on his fingers. “Twelve years.”
These were all fair points. Lucas wasn't dating Bella. They had a dozen years of evidence that he couldn't say no to her. And he definitely turned to mush when she smiled at him.
For one very good reason. That smile, the real one with the dimples and laugh lines and the way her eyes sparkled, was nothing short of pure magic.
Lucas moved on to another photo down the wall, slowly making his way towards the small mass of people. Primarily the group was made up of board members of Astor Pharm and a few city council members.
"You should listen to me more often," Chris said. He continued following Lucas around the gallery.
“No, I shouldn’t.” Lucas scrutinized another portrait for signs of Bella's blond messy curls amid the rubble. He'd found her in two images. There was a third photograph somewhere in the exhibit where Bella delivered a baby in the back of a military humvee. Not the same socialite he'd met in college mere weeks after she'd been arrested for a fistfight in a nightclub. And that fight was only a whopping two days after crashing a Porsche. Those few weeks defined her public image at the age of seventeen and carried through to this day.
Bella's name still brought the paparazzo out, looking for the next big celebrity scoop. This wasn't exactly an award garnering significant attention, so the few paparazzi milling around the fringes probably thought they could get some celeb gossip scoop.
"You never would have met Bells if it weren't for me," Christian chimed.
“We both still would have been in choir.”
Th
Lucas and Chris kept on the edges. There were clusters of VIPs and a smattering of reporters he recognized, mostly associated with newspapers.
"You're right," Chris said. "You would have met Bells in choir and without me and been utterly defenseless. No buffer against those deranged Astor genes."
Together they turned a corner, and Chris appeared to give up on Lucas. He flipped a switch and turned his oozing charm on the brunette server as she passed in front of them with a tray of full champagne glasses. She winked at Chris and he snagged a new flute.
"You need to worry less. Have a drink." He tried to shove a flute in Lucas' hand.
With a shake of his head, Lucas set it back on the tray.
"Come on," Chris whined.
"No, thank you. I prefer being sober," Lucas said and immediately realized how stupid that probably sounded. This was potentially the best time to have a drink. Dull the edge of what's to come. Because something was coming. He felt it.
“This is supposed to be a celebration.”
"Sure," Lucas said, noticing that Chris had yet to finish charming the lovely brunette server. A sure sign of how preoccupied Christian Astor indeed was. "And you're not worried?"
“No.” Chris waved off the comment.
Lucas finally could spot when his friend was lying, so he asked, “Do you remember Etiquette School?”
Chris choked on the question and champagne, every ounce of coolness gone. The server excused herself quietly, giggling as she moved on to another group.
“Yes. I remember. No one can forget Etiquette School,” Chris replied, still trying to clear his throat. “This is nothing like Etiquette School.”
Lucas wasn't so sure. "Both were planned by your mother." Somehow, the former had been backed by the entire family, including Bella's father. "In both, we knew exactly how Bella felt beforehand." Pissed off.
Chris interrupted, “She’s getting a freaking award tonight. There is no reason for her to be pissed about getting an award!”
Finally, after all the stressing out over this ceremony, Lucas let out a slightly deranged laugh. And it grew the more flustered Chris got.
“Stop. Okay, this is completely different.” Chris said and grimaced into his flute.
There it was. The light bulb moment. Chris figured it out. Yes, Bella was receiving an award for humanitarian services to the city, but this wasn’t all that different from Etiquette School. Someone forcing Bella’s hand never ended well for anyone.
How Lucas let himself get roped into this was beyond him.
Lucas sighed. He got one last nervous laugh and said, "We're so screwed."
“Not the screwed I was hoping for.” Chris gulped the rest of his champagne.
Lucas sighed. “Didn’t need to hear that.”
Chris broke away, his hand held out at the mass of people heading towards the pair. “Mayor Hulme! What an honor it is to see you again!”
A sheen of sweat coated Lucas' hands. The mayor arrived in a blaze of assistants, guards, and a plain black and white suit to complement his slicked back light brown hair and reemerging tan from his vacation in the tropics.
And they were still down one guest of honor.
Mayor Hulme charmed Christian with witty repartee while Lucas stood on the sidelines, ignored by all the mayor’s assistants and photographers, until a whispered, “Mr. Holt?” caught his attention. Daniel emerged from the shadows around the portrait Lucas had been staring at, startling Lucas. Though not technically the Astor family’s assistant any longer, Daniel still did many things for Christian he’d done all the twins’ lives.
Lucas and Chris turned, Chris excusing himself from the mayor.
Kind, dark eyes carried a hint of uncertainty as Daniel smoothed his black hair down in a single swipe.
"Daniel?" The man was noticeably alone. "Where's Bella?" Lucas' heart stopped. "Please tell me you didn't come back without Bella." The man practically raised the twins. He attended more of the twins' recitals and competitions than their father. How could he, of all people, not convince Bella to attend and accept one little plaque? He was Bella's secondary father figure! And the key to their entire plan to get Bella here without incident so they could placate Lina.
"Did you lose my sister?" Chris whispered. Behind them, the mayor's assistants snapped pictures on their phones. Lucas imagined the hashtags and commentary flying off into the web. Daniel looked at his feet while Chris continued, "Because there is no way anyone can just lose my sister. She is far too obnoxious to not be seen and heard."
“You’re not helping,” Lucas ground his teeth.
"I delivered Miss Astor here. That was the deal." Daniel smirked, his eyes sliding to where Mrs. Lina Astor gabbed with her board members of one of her charitable foundations. She had a knack for also maintaining a hawk-eye on the trio of men while she talked.
“Is it getting hot in here?” Lucas mumbled, trying to break away from Lina Astor’s demonic stare. “Wait. No.”
“You, Mr. Holt, can convince Miss Astor to make her appearance. Or shall I ask Mrs. Astor to fetch Miss Bella?”
Lucas' stomach dropped out from under him. He should have grabbed a champagne flute before. Stress tore his stomach apart, and this single night might just give him an ulcer.
“No!” Lucas turned, looking for any signs of Bella. Whispers from behind him let him know he'd made yet another mistake. "No." He repeated more quietly. "I got it."
Daniel nodded towards where a passing blond server carrying a tray of champagne flutes had come. The kitchen door flapping behind the server.
“Ah, mother.” Casually sipping from his flute, Chris added his own grin at Lucas.
Best friend indeed.
Lucas turned to Daniel. “You distract Mrs. Astor. I’ll get Bella without making a scene.”
“Thank you, Mr. Holt.”
A mischievous glint in Daniel’s eyes made Lucas regret not going down to the clinic. Getting roped into staying there was suddenly the much better option.
CHAPTER TWO
Anyone order a side of spectacle?
Bella
Bella wondered whose brilliant idea it was to host an award ceremony at a photography exhibition about a war at a modern art gallery. She never — not in a million years — would have gotten in the car with Daniel if she had known what exhibit was showing. The exhibit information was conveniently missing anytime anyone (Chris, her mother, Daniel) brought up the award ceremony.
A part of Bella knew she shouldn't have trusted Daniel. It was probably her mother's idea to use that sweet man to twist her arm and emotions into showing up when she'd already said, 'Hell no! Chris could accept that dumbass award' when her mother brought it up at tea.
Mental note: In the future, decline all new ‘traditions’ with her mother. Never once had her mother wanted to have ‘tea’ until two weeks ago. Bella should have known her mother’s invitation was nothing more than a plot.
Bella caught sight of her mother and the board for the Frazier Foundation (one of her mother's charitable foundations) in a corner, completely ignoring the entire Syria exhibit.
Beside her, Daniel searched for her brother, so Bella took advantage of the distraction and bolted for the kitchens, mixed herself a quick drink, and plopped on the counter. Bella would hide and check in with her partner, Alicia until someone needed her for the literal handing over of an award, handshake, and stupid photo op. Of course, Alicia was busy or didn't hear her phone. Bella left a voicemail.
Bored and waiting for a callback, Bella sat on the icy stainless steel counters in the kitchen and swiped her long trench coat back and forth, singing off pitch. Long dark blond curls tied down in low pigtails were now falling apart from latent steam as the serving staff uncovered hor d'oeuvres in the kitchen.
The door flew open to reveal Lucas. He stood there, tapping his foot and scowling at her. And he looked good. His suit was crisp and fresh-looking even after a day of meetings and tailing after her brother. He’d even forgotten to remove the obnoxiously red candy cane tie she gave him. The one he'd balked at on the first night of their Twelve Movies of Christmas tradition, and yet here he was wearing it.
