I chewed at the inside of my cheek, fighting back a smile.

  Pounding sounded on the door. Only Derek pounded at doors like that.

  “Just a minute. Gosh!” I was suddenly twelve again. I flung the door open. “You’ve been stomping. It’s so loud.”

  Derek lumbered in and set a box in the middle of the room. The most inconvenient location possible. “I wake up at five fifteen every morning. Hit the gym and head to the office.”

  “You’re so corporate.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Welcome to life with a real job.”

  The breath left my chest like I’d been punched. “I have a real job.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  I folded my arms. “No, I don’t know.”

  He’d already backed out of the room, returning to the attic ladder. “I’m salaried. I have clients and benchmarks and company gainsharing.”

  I stepped over the box and out into the hall. “Sometimes I’m the only one to open or close the cafe. I book our entertainment and coordinate our rental space. All in addition to making drinks and serving customers.”

  Derek disappeared up the ladder. “Can you get this?”

  He handed down a box labeled with my name. I shoved the box next to the other one in the Miami room. “You don’t think I have a real job?”

  He backed down the ladder. “I think you’re intent to prove you do.”

  “So, it’s not a career. So what?”

  “Why are you so bothered by it?”

  “I’m bothered by you. And Mom. And Stu. They want me to go back to college.”

  “So, go.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Then don’t?”

  I grunted my frustration.

  “You’re smart. You could be doing more if you wanted. Dad—”

  “Don’t tell me what Dad would have wanted. Dad supported my move to Chicago.”

  Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. I guessed it was better than a shove, what he would have done as a kid. “I support your move to Chicago. I told your friends yesterday you had a cool apartment and I meant it. You’re doing your thing.”

  He rubbed his eyes, the time difference starting to set in. “All I’m saying is you seem bothered by the comments, and if you’re bothered, do something. You don’t have to do what I do. Figure it out.”

  He acted so cavalier about it. Figure it out. Figure life out. Sure. Fine. Easy.

  I went back to bed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Nick

  I HAD TO HAND IT TO Megan, the mansion looked great. One hand for the Sawyer brothers for the physical work they put in lining the driveway with trees. A single red bow dripped from each treetop along the driveway. The last two trees flanking the end of the drive had the red bow and white lights. Worked for me.

  All day, I followed Jill’s lists, tying up loose ends, making calls, and giving instructions to volunteers. I couldn’t say I enjoyed it, but pulling my weight with what I promised at least felt satisfying.

  “Nicolas, this looks beautiful.”

  “Mom.” I set the box of programs on a table covered in red plaid. “You’re here early. You look nice.”

  She straightened the sleeve of her gold beaded jacket. “You did great.”

  “Jill did great.”

  “Don’t underestimate yourself.”

  I couldn’t take credit, but I didn’t want to argue. “I have something to talk to you about.” Here goes. “I’ve been looking for a new...opportunity.”

  She nodded. “I’m sure you hadn’t envisioned working at the printers forever.”

  Just then, the sound of chattering young voices carried over. The kids’ choir burst into the ballroom in a mob of sound and limbs. Mom immediately greeted the kids and the sponsor teachers. Any hope of a heart-to-heart needed to wait.

  My friend had texted that the distillery could do a video interview the day after the holiday. Have me in Madison by the end of the week for a facility visit. I wanted to tell Mom. If I told her then I could tell Megan.

  Megan and I had been texting all day.

  Megan: Stu’s kids are a trip. All-state in track, you said? How about all-state in all-everything.

  Nick: But do they know about a flat white?

  Megan: You remembered my drink! Most impressive.

  Megan: Almost as impressive as a PhD in Electrical Engineering who researches particle physics and a doctor who spends vacations giving free treatments in impoverished countries.

  Nick: Which is almost as impressive as making a flat white.

  Megan: Ha-Ha. You’re funny.

  I didn’t care how many degrees Stu’s kids racked up. Megan doubted herself and I hated that. She didn’t need a degree to make an impact. She’d already made an impact on me. And from the looks of it, on our benefit.

  Nick: Please come tonight. You can be my guest.

  I’d asked her last night before we left Checkers to come to the event. After we’d kissed. I couldn’t believe she did it. She’d kissed me. For a second, I had to admit, I’d wished I’d made the first move. Then again, I’d steered us under the mistletoe. She’d taken the bait. I didn’t mind being bait.

  That kiss flipped a switch in me. I needed to show Megan I wasn’t a simple townie riding my family’s privilege.

  Megan: Mom and Stu are pretty pumped about their holiday ham. We’re doing gifts and games with the kids—that’s Stu’s grandkids.

  Nick: A holiday ham, nice. We’ve got shrimp toast. We can’t compete with a ham.

  Megan: The ham is fifteen pounds. I’ve been hearing about it all day.

  Nick: To match your fifteen-foot tree.

  Megan: Hey. Only ten feet.

  Megan: I can’t believe it fits in the house.

  I texted a gif from the Chevy Chase holiday movie where Clark and fam find the perfect tree in the woods complete with holy light shining from the sky.

  She texted back an emoji smiley with the tongue sticking out.

  Nick: No worries. Enjoy the time with your family.

  The little dots danced on my phone screen, showing she was typing more. The message never came, and I was called off to another task.

  Two hours later, the benefit had started, opening remarks were made, and the children’s choir performed their third song. Guests strolled through the ballroom, eating appetizers and desserts while making bids on donated items for the silent auction. I made sure the photo booth line stayed manageable and assigned a volunteer to monitor the holiday-themed props.

  My parents walked over with Jill. “How are you doing?” I asked Mom, taking her by the elbow.

  “Wonderful.” Her blink stalled a second longer than usual. Beyond knowing it took a bigger effort for her to be here tonight, she looked the same as always. “Jill says you’ve been a wonderful help.”

  We’d already had this conversation, so she was saying it for Jill’s benefit. “I helped where I could.”

  “The room looks great.” My dad barely took his eyes off Mom. I used to get annoyed by them making lovey-dovey faces at each other. He was there for her every second she needed, and the seconds she said she didn’t need him. Leaving me to do more at the print shop. This was going to be hard to share the news about the interview. Even if I didn’t get the job in Madison, they deserved to know I was looking.

  Mom pointedly looked my way. “Ed Farinski is retiring.”

  I nodded back. All night I’d been nodding in conversations like this.

  “Leaving an opening in administration.” Jill’s decorated Santa sweater demanded attention. It was like a homing beacon I couldn’t look away from. “The requirement is a bachelor’s in a business field and experience with city events.”

  I nodded some more. “Cool.”

  Mom’s smile shifted. “A great opening for someone familiar with Crystal Cove who might be looking for a new opportunity.”

  They were all three watching for my reaction. “Me? Working for the mayor’s office? Sounds like a conflict of interest.” Never mind the conflict. I had zero interest working in the mayor’s office.

  Mom smiled at a guest walking past. “You’d have to apply for the job, of course. Jill and the other staff would handle the interview.”

  “You’ve been a huge help, Nick,” Jill said. The glittering Santa on her sweater danced in agreement.

  Someone had to be putting her up to this. “I’d say you’re welcome, but you know I botched the planning. If it hadn’t been for Megan, we wouldn’t have even half of these decorations.”

  “Who is Megan?” Mom asked.

  Jill responded with a careful smile. “Nick’s friend, right?” She watched for my reaction.

  Mom perked up. “I’ve been out of the loop. Is your friend here tonight?”

  “Unfortunately, no. She’s with her family and—” I stopped mid-sentence. Flies had open access to buzz into my mouth. Across the room, Megan stood by the front entrance in a red dress. She wore some kind of black cape with fur along the edges.

  “Oh, I see,” I heard Mom say as I brushed past her. “Megan.”

  I shifted around guests blocking my path and put myself in front of Megan. “You came.” I tried limiting the wattage on my geeked state, but geek-beams shone bright like a disco light. Or, whatever. I was still thinking about dancing with Megan. How she fell into my arms. I loved every second of it.

  She smiled and tugged at her cape. “Yeah. I’m not here alone though—”

  “Nick.”

  Arms circled me and a hand clapped against my back. Diane Kreuger in for the big hug and Stu adding his method of affection. Grin and bear it, dude. “Thanks for coming out.”

  Megan half-covered her face with her hand. “Mom, lay off. You’re scaring him.”

  Derek shook my hand. “Nick, good to see you again.”

  “Well, hello, Stu.” Behind me, my own mother inserted herself into our space.

  We were really doing this. Parents meeting my girl—no, not my girlfriend. “Mom, this is Megan. She’s new to Stu Kreuger’s family.”

  “Oh, how wonderful.”

  All the parents, including my dad now, exchanged greetings. My attention landed on Megan again and I shot her a sympathetic look. I guess I should have expected this to be awkward.

  “My son has a check to contribute,” Stu was saying as he held out an envelope. “He’s sorry he couldn’t be here tonight. He and his family had to leave early after the ham.”

  I snapped my fingers. “I heard the hog was a fifteen-pounder.”

  Megan laughed into her hand.

  Dad gave me a puzzled look. “How on earth do you know how much their ham weighs?”

  Mom nudged him and my cheeks lit up like...well, a Christmas tree, which was pretty freaking apt. I may as well pose for pictures and bust out the corsage.

  Somehow sensing my thoughts, my mother nudged me toward Megan. “We should get you two in a picture.” She waved the hired photographer over with her free hand. “We’d love some shots of these guests.”

  I mouthed I’m sorry to Megan. She only grinned. “It’s okay. I expected this.”

  “And you still came?”

  “My mom pulled the invitation off the fridge. Once she knew you and I were buddies, she suggested it herself.”

  I didn’t like thinking of Megan as a buddy. Buddies went snowmobiling together. Megan...I wanted to share things with her. Share about myself. Share about life.

  We were currently being maneuvered in front a fireplace at one end of the ballroom with a mantle decked out in boughs of holly and red ribbon—courtesy of Megan’s efforts at the florist. The first photo included Stu, Diane, Derek, and Megan along with my family. Then both our mothers strategically cleared the family out, leaving Megan and me together. A corsage would have come in handy after all. At least it’d give me something to do with my hands.

  “We should do a prom pose,” Megan suggested, giggling. She stood with her back to me and placed my arms around her. “But hold your arms stiff. Pretend like you want to touch me but you’re afraid.”

  My throat felt like a drained lake. “Sure.” Pretend.

  “Now smile really awkward.”

  I did as commanded and the photographer snapped away. Derek laughed.

  “Now do a nice one,” one of the mothers said. Honestly, I didn’t know which one. Their combined powers were startling.

  After the photographer moved on, Megan collapsed into laughs. “This is the face I made.” She showed me a toothy frozen smile with dead eyes.

  I cracked up. “Even if you’re trying to look bad, you can’t.”

  She swatted me. “Stop. Hey, is there something I can volunteer for? I don’t have any cash to donate.”

  “You’re a guest here. You don’t have to spend any money.”

  “But it’s a charity event.”

  “You’ve already done so much.” I didn’t want to be talking about this. There had to be some mistletoe around here. I should start carrying it with me.

  “Excuse me, Nick Bennington?” An aging man in a red sweater vest held out his hand.

  We shook. “Mr. Farinski. Heard you’re retiring.”

  He adjusted his wire frame glasses. “It’s time. You’ll make a great replacement. Crystal Cove needs to keep tradition with a Bennington on staff.”

  I laughed a little too loud and cleared my throat. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  “You’re a sharp kid and just what this town needs. We have an interview spot saved for you.” He gave me a wink before moving on.

  By some miracle, maybe Megan hadn’t heard any of our conversation.

  Megan inched closer. “What was that about keeping a Bennington on staff?”

  No miracle for me. I backed us toward a corner, hoping to keep out of sight of, well, anybody. “It’s nothing. This town, it’s...small.”

  Megan squared off with me, her red dress like a stop sign I couldn’t blow past. “Are you—” She stopped, seeming to consider her words. “I know I’ve meddled enough with your life, but I have to ask. What about the interview in Madison?”

  “What interview in Madison?” That would be Mayor Bennington now at my side. I hadn’t made our corner hidden enough.

  “Hey, Mom.” I flashed her my charming smile.

  “What’s in Madison?” she repeated. The smile never worked on her.

  I ran a hand through my hair. “Nothing. Just...”

  That feeling, when a parent waited to throw down the gotcha hammer and you had to do everything to delay the final slam? That was happening right now.

  Megan gave me an encouraging smile.

  “Nick,” Mom urged.

  “There’s an interview. With Whitewater Distillery. For a marketing job.”

  Understanding crossed my mother’s face. “That’s what you meant about opportunity.” Her expression landed somewhere neutral. “It sounds promising. Let me guess. Megan, you live in Madison?”

  Megan’s brow furrowed, then she shook her head no. “Chicago.”

  Mom pressed her lips together. “I’m sure you’ll have more details for us. Nick, I came to tell you it’s time to announce the first raffle winner.”

  I nodded as Mom walked away.

  Megan ran her hand up my sleeve. “You talk about feeling held back, but the only person I see holding you back is yourself.”

  “It’s just—” Just what? I was afraid to disappoint my family. No, more than that. I was...afraid. Life had a way of working out for me in Crystal Cove. A new job opportunity practically handed to me. Even the Madison job wasn’t much of a stretch. My parents wouldn’t have to miss me at all since I’d still live in town. The real chance would be believing I could do it. To be someone outside of who I’d always been.

  At the small stage, Jill held the microphone and announced the raffle winner. That was supposed to be me up there. “I can’t talk about this now.”

  Right now, I needed to be Nick Bennington, mayor’s son.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Megan

  I FOUND MOM AND STU gathered at the edge of the crowd listening to raffle prize announcements and did my best to blend. The knee-length fitted red dress I borrowed from Stu’s daughter fit surprisingly well and made me feel amazing. Stu’s daughter and her family had planned to come to the benefit, but their kids were acting up and it quickly became a meltdown situation. Turned out even advanced degrees were no match for a three-year-old’s tantrum and a five-year-old’s refusal to wear pants.

  I ended up really liking Stu’s kids. After witnessing their struggle to manage the kids, they seemed fully human and less intimidating. The offer to borrow the dress made me even more encouraged about our future family events.

  Less encouraging? Witnessing Nick freeze in front of his mom. Despite his declaration of feeling trapped here, he wasn’t ready to leave Crystal Cove.

  And it bothered me. Nick had dreams of doing more. Of being more than his family name. Didn’t he want more?

  Mom handed me a feathered mask and a Santa’s Little Helper sign, beckoning me into the photo booth. I flashed a goofy grin, but it didn’t feel as fun as earlier with Nick. Ugh, why was Nick holding himself back?

  We emerged from the booth and waited for our pictures to print.

  “Megan.” Stu walked toward me. Alongside him, a woman with warm brown skin and curly natural hair approached. She wore a festive sprig of holly on her suit jacket lapel. “This is the associate dean of students at Boone College.”

  “Oh. Hello.” I ripped off the feather eye mask and shook the woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “We’re a small liberal arts college ten miles out from town,” the woman explained.

  Stu leaned in toward me. “She said it’s easier than ever to transfer credits these days.”

  A numb sensation grew inside me. “That’s...great. But I live in Chicago,” I told the dean. “Kind of a long commute.”

  Mom laid a hand on my arm. “You could live with us while you commute. It would be temporary, until you finish your degree and get back on your feet.”

  “And when did I fall off my feet, exactly?” I asked my mom in a low tone. I kept up my smile for the dean.

 

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