“What was her name?”
“Lola Hawkins.”
“Well, it’s good Lola wanted to renew her life, but it sucks that she’s missing out on a friendship with you.” I always do this. Always say shit to make the client feel better. Happier. Because if they aren’t feeling confident with me at their side, I’m not doing this thing right.
Someone I knew quite well taught me that. She’s the very reason I got into this.
“You’re kind,” she says, “but you don’t have to keep using your crazy lines on me, all right? I’m not that insecure, you know? I can handle the truth. I’m a loner, plain and simple.” She holds her hands out in the air. “Maybe by the time I’m thirty I’ll have more friends.”
“Maybe,” I say, trying to inject some hopefulness in my voice.
Damn. What has her family done to her?
I feel so fucking sorry for this girl.
Chapter 5
Piper
I think I’m annoying Matthew.
I mean, the cupcake? Seriously? I was so eager but I didn’t even consider how he’d feel. He seemed so bummed by it, and I was just trying to do something nice.
I could tell he was only pretending to be happy and appreciative, doing what’s best for his job so it won’t be awkward between us.
And what was that thing with me on his lap? I almost fell but he caught me. He could have released me as soon as he came to save the day, but he didn’t. He reeled me in, almost like… almost like he wanted to know how it felt for me to be on his lap and in his arms.
He didn’t exactly let me go, and I didn’t exactly pull away, but when I finally was free I didn’t want to say anything that would call attention to it.
I guess it’s a moot issue now, because we have officially landed in Colorado and there are much bigger things to think about. Bigger, more frightening things. Like my family.
We drag our suitcases on their wheels as we make our way to the rental car check-in.
After I collect our keys and we walk through the parking deck, Matthew places our bags in the trunk and I hop in the driver’s seat.
From the airport, it’s about a twenty-minute drive to get to the cabin.
“You’re driving awfully slow,” Matthew observes, glancing at me and then at the road again.
I grip the wheel. There’s a reason for that. “We have to be careful. These roads get really slippery, you know? It’s much icier here than in New York.”
“Or maybe you just want to spend as much time as possible away from that cabin.”
I press my lips. Maybe.
“The sooner we get this over with, the better things will be.”
“Eh.”
He’s quiet for a moment. I take a right turn, driving up the long, curvy road, knowing we are close.
My speed decreases even more. I even turn down the volume of the radio, feeling the need to focus, though God only knows on what.
“All right,” Matthew sighs loudly. “Pull over.”
“What? Why? We’re almost there.”
“I don’t think we’ll ever get there with the way you’re driving. Just take a minute. Pull over, Piper.”
I look over at him quickly before putting my attention back on the road. I pull to the side, on a soft patch of snow-covered grass, and Matthew unclips his seatbelt.
He pushes out of the car in an instant, walking around the hood and pulling my door open. He offers a hand and I stare down at it as if he’s out of his damned mind.
“What in the hell are you doing?” I ask.
“Come out, Piper.”
“It’s freezing out there. I don’t think we should be standing on the side of the road right now.”
He lifts his hands in the air. “It’s a perfect winter night.” He offers a hand again. “If this weekend is going to work, you have to trust me.”
“I never said I didn’t trust you.”
“You don’t have to say it for me to know it.” He bobs his head. “Shut the car off. This will only take a second.”
I look up at him, refusing to hide my frown, but I do as told because I know he isn’t going to let up until I do this.
I step out on the crunchy snow, gripping his hand. He helps me out, shutting the door behind me and then bringing me away from the car.
Gripping my shoulders and looking me directly in the eyes, Matthew says, “I want you to breathe, Piper. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Can you do that for me, angel?”
“I guess…”
“Just go with it. Shut your eyes, inhale, and then exhale. Do it until you feel that elephant step off your chest.”
“This is stupid,” I mutter.
“Just do it,” he says, but I hear the laughter in the bass of his voice.
I shut my eyes reluctantly, breathing in through my nostrils and out through parted lips.
“That’s it. Now do it again.”
I repeat it, my chest expanding before deflating. The cold air drifts through my lungs, but it gives me a refreshing, cool feeling.
My pulse settles, and I gradually unclench the fists that I didn’t even realize were balled.
“Feel better?” he asks.
I nod. “Can’t we just stay right here, like this, forever?”
“We could, if you plan on freezing to death.” I open my eyes and he’s looking right at me, a boyish grin taking over his face. “This weekend is going to be great. You have nothing to worry about. I know you think I’m feeding you bullshit here, but I’m not. We can do this. You can do this and when you make it out alive, you will be thanking me for sticking it out.”
I bob my head, looking him deep in those beautiful light brown eyes. “So… when we get there, I’ll hug everyone, introduce my random new boyfriend, and then we’ll rush to the bedroom and lock ourselves inside until Christmas morning.”
He laughs deeply, and it causes my belly to roll. “We can do whatever you want to do, angel. I’m on your side.” Matthew releases me, and I take a casual step back. “Let’s get back in the car now and head to the cabin. You owe me a birthday party in our room, remember?”
He winks over his shoulder as he makes his way to the passenger side.
I slide into the car, shutting my door behind me as he does his.
After starting the Subaru and cranking up the heat to warm up my toes, I look at Matthew and say, “Thank you for that. And sorry for my craziness. It’s just been a long time since I had a guy around so much.”
“You’re not crazy,” he says. “You’re just misunderstood, but I get you. I really do.”
“You get me?”
“I do. More than you think.”
I pull back onto the road, driving up the mountain. The cabin is in sight now, and my heart pounds in my chest as we get closer.
Parking the car in front of the house, I stare ahead at the wooden home before me. I’ve always loved this place, even as a child.
Built with heavy, reddish oak, polished clean and neat—a two-story cabin with thick walls so we can’t hear what anyone is arguing about or doing in the next room.
The gold Christmas lights make it stand out even more, accenting the lights coming through the long, rectangular windows, as well as the lanterns outside the cozy lodge.
“Well, we’re here,” I say, shutting the car off. I release the wheel from my grip, zipping up my coat and then stuffing the keys in the pocket.
Matthew steps out of the car, picking up his coat and sliding into it. He looks good in a scarf. Classier than his usual classy self.
“I guess we can come back for the bags?”
“Sure.” Matthew looks over at me as I step out of the car, holding out a hand in my direction. “Ready to get this over with?” he asks, anticipation in his eyes.
“Not really.” I grip his hand. “But I’m sure they are all waiting for me to make an appearance. Might as well, right?”
He makes a playful attempt at a look of certainty. “We should.”
We start up the
stairs, my heart banging like a drum now. “Nice move with the hand-hold. They won’t suspect a thing.”
“Keep bringing it up and they might,” he laughs.
“You’re right. Sorry. I’m just so damn nervous. How are you not nervous?”
He gives me an obvious look, one that says, Really? Matthew Cooper, male escort, remember?
Of course. How could I forget?
I guess it is easy to forget that he’s been hired when he’s so attentive and caring. It’s strange, but it really does feel like I’m bringing a boyfriend to meet my parents. Why this freaks me out, I don’t know.
But I do know to go with it, wing it like he will, and everything will be okay. If we can keep this up, my family really won’t suspect a thing.
We’ve practiced and pretended. We should be okay.
Matthew raises a fist and begins to knock, but I simply shake my head, lowering his hand and then twisting the doorknob. “They’re waiting on us, remember?”
The door swings right open, light flooding us.
And then we are inside, shutting it behind us. Christmas jingles are playing from Dad’s old record player, and I hear laughter coming from the kitchen.
“Hello?” I call, expecting someone—anyone to greet us. I glance back at Matthew, who simply shrugs, and then I lead the way to the kitchen.
As I round the corner, that’s when I spot them all.
Mom, Dad, Lena, the twins, Bailey, and Stanley. They are sitting at the table, about to eat dinner.
Stanley picks his head up and spots me, his face immediately changing from bored to excited in less than a second.
“Holy. Shit! Pipes! You fucking made it!” Stanley pushes out of his chair, marching for me and snatching me up in a big bear hug.
I should have mentioned that Stanley has a huge potty mouth, and in about three seconds Mom is going to get on him about it.
“Stanley Madison!” Mom shouts. “There are children at the table! I’m not going to tell you again to watch your language!”
Stanley releases me and I giggle. He just shrugs lightly, ignoring her, and then I pull him into a hug again because it’s been months since I’ve seen him.
“Stanley,” I sigh.
I pull back, subtly studying him. He looks better. Healthier, like he’s actually eating. He’s gained some muscle, trimmed his graying hair. His eyes don’t look as sad as before. I’m glad.
“Well, look what the cat finally dragged in,” Bailey says, flipping her thick, brown, spring-like curls over her shoulder. “And with a date! How weird is that!”
“How is that weird?” Stanley asks, frowning.
“Oh, sorry,” I say quickly, stepping back and pulling Matthew to my side. “Everyone, this is Matthew. My boyfriend.” Wow. Did I really just say that out loud?
Matthew smiles. “Thank you for having me, everyone. I’ve been very excited to meet you all.” He waves, looking each person in the eye.
Lena and Bailey pass a look at each other, one full of astonishment. I guess they thought my boyfriend was going to be some lowlife, hippie type of guy.
Wrong.
Bitches.
“Boyfriend?” Dad asks, looking at us over his glass of scotch, his glasses sitting low on his nose. He has gone fully bald, his olive skin much lighter than the rest of ours. “And why are we just now hearing about this boyfriend?”
“Oh, sweetie, please ignore this crazy old man,” Mom says, walking around the table. Mom always looks great—her brown skin so smooth, her makeup light and flawless. She has her dark-brown hair curled too, and is sporting a not-so-ugly Christmas sweater that’s most likely from her favorite store: Macy’s.
She meets up to us, hugging me first as she puts on a warm smile. “Pipey, you are freezing. Go sit at the table and eat some soup.” I roll my eyes as she puts her attention on Matthew. “Matthew, it is so wonderful to meet you.” She gives him a hug, and he returns it, looking at me with a helpless grin.
When Mom pulls away, he says, “It’s a true pleasure to meet you as well, Mrs. Madison. I’ve heard so many great things about you from Piper.”
“Bullshit,” Stanley says through a cough.
I fight a laugh. Mom doesn’t even notice.
“Wow, manners.” Mom is stunned, her eyes wide. “You brought a boy with manners. I am so happy about this.”
“Of course you are, Mom.” I try not to roll my eyes again.
“Well, come! Sit! There is plenty of food to go around!” Mom trots back to her seat. “Lena, Bailey! You aren’t going to give your baby sister a hug?”
“Oh, right.” Bailey takes a large bite out of her breadstick before standing and coming my way. She hugs me, but not because she wants to. Because she was told to.
“Oh, Mom, I’ve been chasing the twins all day,” Lena groans. “Piper, honey, come to me. Come hug your big sister.” She waves her hands, gesturing for me to come to her.
Luckily there are two extra seats beside her. I walk by, give her a quick hug around the shoulders, and then take one of the seats next to one of the twins.
Matthew takes the chair across from me, his dimples showing.
“I told you,” I mouth to him.
He merely winks.
Stanley plops down in the chair beside me. “Fucking Piper,” he says, quietly enough for Mom not to hear from the end of the table. “You look great, sis.”
“And you look freaking awesome yourself, Stan the Man.”
“I set up the basketball goal in the garage for tomorrow. You know I’m going to own your ass.”
“Nah. I don’t think so. I’ve been practicing with tossing crumpled up sheets of paper in the trash bin at my office. I am taking you down.”
Stanley busts out laughing, picking up a breadstick. “We’ll just see about that.”
“So, Matthew,” Mom says from her end of the table. Matthew looks up at her as he drops some salad on his plate. “How did you and Piper meet exactly?”
“Sheesh, right out of the gate,” I hear Lena mutter.
Bailey snickers.
I look from Mom to Matthew, but he continues his casual demeanor, pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher as he begins to explain our made up story.
“Well, it’s funny you ask that question, Mrs. Madison. I’ve known Piper for quite some time now, mainly through phone calls and missed appointments,” he laughs. “She wasn’t showing for her monthly teeth whitening and my assistant had informed me of it. In our office, there is a policy that once we’ve hit eight calls and the client doesn’t respond, the dentist calls to check in, make sure everything is okay.”
“That sounds like you, Pipes,” Bailey snickers. “Always forgetting or missing something.”
I roll my eyes, taking off a hunk of bread and dipping it into my chicken noodle soup.
“So you’re a dentist?” Mom inquires, clearly pleased to hear it.
“I am. I’ve been one for five years. I enjoy every minute of it.”
“So you called and then what?” Dad asks, cocking a brow.
“Well, sir, I called and surprisingly, she answered. I assume she was getting fed up with the back-to-back phone calls, but it turns out she was working on this large assignment from her job. It was a three-month project and she had a deadline. She sounded so frustrated, so you know what I told her?”
“What?” everyone at the table but the twins asks. Good grief.
“I told her, ‘Hey, just take a break and come on in. Maybe a good, old fashioned teeth cleaning will help clear your mind.’”
Everyone at the table laughs.
“Oh, that’s horrible,” Stanley sputters over his drink.
“I know. So horrible,” Matthew admits, showing off one of those beautiful dimples. There it is. The charm. “But I wanted to make her laugh, no matter how corny I seemed. Piper had no problem at all telling me how corny I sounded, but guess what? She obviously liked it because she came in. We talked, laughed, and then I gave her some free toot
hbrushes and some floss.”
“I was very happy about the toothbrushes, by the way,” I butt in, going along with it.
“So—how did the date happen afterwards? Who called who first?” Bailey asks, waving an impatient hand for more details.
“I called her,” Matthew responds. “She was so sweet and funny and seemed to need some fun. I wanted to give her that, so I jotted down her number and called her to ask.”
“Aww,” Mom and Lena say together.
“How sweet is that?” Mom chimes.
I nod my head, one of my cheeks quirking. “It was a great first date. Simple and fun. Dinner, movies, pretzels and ice cream. The best date I’ve ever had.”
Matthew smiles at me from across the table, giving me a look of adoration. I return the look, realizing this is necessary to complete our act.
“Well, that sounds just lovely,” Bailey drones. “It’s about time Piper found someone worth something. For a while I thought she was going to bring home a girl. I wouldn’t have been very surprised if she did.”
“Oh, stop it, Bailey,” Mom says, but she titters at the statement.
Matthew looks around the table but doesn’t respond to that, and neither does anyone else besides Mom. Instead, Stanley changes the subject.
“So, does anyone know if Monty will be coming in?”
The table is silent for a few seconds.
“No one heard from him?” Stanley inquires, his head tilting.
Dad and Mom look at each other.
Lena and Bailey lower their gazes.
“Monty won’t be with us this year, Stan. Didn’t you hear the news?” Dad asks.
“What news?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. Big shot lawyer never has time to check his damn voicemails.”
“It is the occupation you wanted me to take up, Dad,” Stanley says, an edge to his voice.
I butt in, hoping to avoid an argument between the two of them. “Why won’t Monty be with us this year? I haven’t heard the news either.”
“Monty is in rehab again. Heroin this time,” Dad informs us.
Oh.
“But, don’t worry!” Mom’s voice is cheerful as she speaks. “We are going to spend tomorrow morning making Christmas cards for him. I’ll send them all out the same day, that way he can enjoy his Christmas, too.”
Holiday Escort: A Christmas Novella Page 4