The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  “Hey! Speak for yourself, Miss Let’s-Seduce-My-Brother’s-Best-Friend,” Jessa retorted, opening the box of donuts and grabbing a Boston-cream.

  “Oh, yeah, because that was so much worse of an idea than you moving in with your ex-boyfriend, my brother, who thought you’d cheated on him.” Ally chose one of the two jelly-filled ones.

  “One day,” Ally continued, seeing the small opening to transition to something lighter, “we will finally learn your ways and make all the right choices, Yoda Tammy.”

  I winced; she had no idea.

  Jessa chuckled and the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Trust me, I can make wrong ones, too.”

  “What do you mean?” Jessa asked as I reached for the chocolate-glazed donut that had been eyeing me for the past few minutes. “What is that lo—OH MY GOD!”

  “What?” I looked at her and then down at myself, thinking a spider had crawled out of my nose the way she exclaimed. “What’s wrong?”

  “You have the donut-look.”

  I felt my face flushing. “Well, I’m holding a donut. So, that makes sense.”

  “Oh, no,” she shook her head. “That’s from more than the soul-soothing calories you’re about to eat. What wrong decision did you make?”

  “Tammy, your face is so red right now. Oh, my God. Does… does this have to do with a guy? Did you meet a guy and not tell us?”

  No… and yes.

  “Wait a second,” Jessa said. I saw the second the truth sprung on her like a bucket of ice water. “Did something happen with Nick?”

  “Nick?” Ally furrowed her brow. “You mean Nick Frost?”

  It was the gasp that could be heard around the world as they both stared at me in complete shock—like telling them I had cancer an hour ago had been a warm-up.

  Maybe it was.

  Cancer wasn’t a choice. Nick Frost, though, was a disease that I’d willingly inflicted on myself.

  There was no point in denying it. Not that I hadn’t planned on telling them anyway, but the flush on my cheeks was like a physiological lie detector.

  “I may… have made a bad choice involving Nick Frost,” I admitted sheepishly, taking a bite of the other endorphin and regret-filled object in my hands.

  “When? What happened? How? Who? Why?” Their questions were like rounds from a semi-automatic weapon—I couldn’t even say which question came from which mouth as they fired at me.

  “Wednesday. After I left the doctor, I called him. I don’t really know why—” I broke off with a small sigh, chewing on my lower lip. “I guess I needed to not be me for a second. I needed to be a Tammy that I didn’t recognize—one that wouldn’t think about the cancer. And one that gave into things that she shouldn’t want but did.”

  There was another flurry of questions which made my recounting of that night take longer than it should have.

  “But then why was he being so shitty at the Bash?” Ally’s brow furrowed and she reached for the second jelly-filled donut. “Don’t tell Emmett I ate two,” she murmured jokingly.

  We all knew Emmett would have bought her her own donut shop if she asked.

  I took an unsteady breath. “I can honestly say that I have no idea. Granted, I have limited experience in this area, but I would assume that he shouldn’t be upset with me when he was the one who decided he didn’t want to have sex…” I trailed off and began to braid my hair that had become disheveled during our crying session. “I think it’s for the best though, with everything else, it’s just easier this way.”

  Ally raised her eyebrows like she wanted to disagree but instead shoved the rest of her donut into her mouth, looking to Jessa to do the honors instead.

  “But did he really not want to?” Jessa asked.

  Cue blank stare. “I… I don’t know.”

  “Dumb question. He definitely wanted to have sex. Which means there was a reason why he felt like he couldn’t.” She tapped her chin in thought. “You didn’t tell him about the doctor?”

  “No!” I exclaimed, my head shaking frantically. “That’s the last thing I want—pity. No, I told him no questions.”

  “Well, if you want my honest opinion—and I don’t think you’re going to like it—but I don’t care, that’s what I’m here for,” she said sweetly even as I groaned. “I think there is a reason he didn’t treat you like every other woman that he’s slept with—basically ninety-five percent of the women on this mountain. And not just because you’re a virgin, but I’m sure that added to it. I think, he didn’t sleep with you because part of him actually likes you, and not just in the ‘I-want-to-ice-fuck-you’ way.”

  Mortified, I pulled the pillow from my chest up in front of my face as she brought up that tidbit again.

  “You’re right. I don’t like it. But it doesn’t matter. Whatever his reason,” I said muffled through the fabric. “It was wrong to call him.”

  “Well, you know what they say,” Ally interjected wryly and I heard her chuckle. “Right is right, and wrong is… fun.”

  “Too much fun,” I grumbled, dropping the pillow. “And if this is the price I pay for that, then this definitely needs to be the end of it before I’m in over my head.”

  “Well, if it was wrong, then just ignore him. I’m sure that Nick Frost, of all people, can find someone else to torment,” Jessa said, rolling her eyes.

  “Yeah…” I sighed, staring off at the blank TV screen in front of me.

  Her head flicked to me. “Unless… you don’t want him to find someone else…”

  I didn’t look at her as I responded with the heavy truth. “I don’t know what I want.”

  “Sometimes, I think it’s not so much that we don’t know what we want, it’s that we are afraid to acknowledge the truth about what we want.”

  Ally’s philosophical musings were so on point I wanted to smack her. Okay, not really. “And, take it from us, Tam, because we actually have experience here—sometimes wanting what you shouldn’t turns out to be everything that you need.”

  That’s what I was afraid of.

  My life was already threatening to fall apart at the seams; the last thing I needed was to fall in too deep with Nick Frost. For as much damage as cancer could do to my body, the kind he could inflict on my heart would be a thousand times worse.

  “The more I know of the world, the more I am convinced that

  I shall never see a man whom I can really love.”

  —Jane Austen, Sense & Sensibility

  LET’S JUST SAY, NICK FROST didn’t look both ways when he crossed my mind.

  Heck. He didn’t even wait for the walk sign. And he definitely didn’t walk in the crosswalk. He strolled through with the confidence of complete mayhem as my senses beeped and blared angrily at his disturbance. He crossed and caused accidents—collisions of my senses that resulted in fatalities of my faculties.

  The worst part was that he didn’t even know the chaos he caused.

  And if he did, I had a feeling he would be pleased.

  He’d been on my mind the rest of the weekend and yesterday to the point where if thinking about him could cure my cancer, it would have. I couldn’t escape him. I couldn’t escape the ache he’d ignited; he was like my own personal asshole-addiction. And at night, I’d succumbed to letting myself overdose on my memories. I replayed them more times than your favorite soap opera as I awkwardly touched myself, finding exactly where those memories made me come alive.

  “Cindy.” I knocked on my boss’ door, peeking my head inside. The older woman with a nose that looked like it was sharp enough to cut through cans peered up at me over the thinnest reading glasses one could buy. It was times like this that she reminded me of a cross between Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada and Glenn Close as Cruella de Ville in One-Hundred-and-One Dalmatians.

  I should clarify that she wasn’t evil like them. She was just very business-oriented, which sometimes translated into a lack of concern in situations like what happened with Lila.

/>   “Come in, Miss Lucas.”

  It didn’t matter how many times I’d told her to call me Tammy, she never would. Business-oriented.

  “I was just wondering if you had any more information about Lila.” I swallowed, steeling myself as her eyes narrowed. “I found one of her stuffed animals, Dory, crammed back in the cubbies and I know how she really loves that movie and I’m sure that she’s missing it.”

  I bit my cheek to stop the rambling. I had found the stuffed animal last week. Part of me was hoping that, if there was a family emergency, these few weeks would have cleared it up and she would be walking back through that door any day now. But she hadn’t and I just couldn’t let it go.

  Even amidst the cancer and the whole Nick situation, Lila was still never far from my mind.

  Maybe I was searching—grasping—at straws of situations that I could change, like returning a stuffed animal to a little girl.

  “Miss Lucas,” Cindy huffed, peeling her glasses from her face. “I have not heard anything, and I do not expect to. From what I was told, it’s my understanding that Lila will not be returning. I suggest that you really try to acclimate yourself to that fact. We’ve had kids leave before and I’ve never seen you struggle like this. This is how business is, dear. Customers come and go.”

  Except she wasn’t a customer! She was a kid! I wanted to scream.

  Instead, I smiled and said, “Of course. I just wanted to follow up and see if there was at least anywhere that I could bring her toy.”

  “I will… try… to get in touch with her nanny and see if she would like to come back for it.” And back on went the glasses. “Thank you, Miss Lucas.”

  Taking my cue to leave, I walked out of the office, shutting the door behind me, only to be greeted by the ‘I-told-you-so’ stare from Becca.

  “I had to ask.”

  “Sometimes, it does hurt to ask, Tammy,” she replied and where that conversation could have gone, it ended along with naptime and the children who were again vying for our attention.

  I don’t know what possessed me. Honestly, a part of me considered that somehow the cancer was affecting my brain. We’d cleaned up for the day. Tuesdays were my day to close, so I’d just finished locking up our office and was walking toward the door when I realized that Cindy’s door was left cracked open.

  She’d departed several hours ago and must not have pulled it completely shut.

  Grabbing the doorknob, I began to pull it shut, but I stopped just before it locked.

  Lila.

  I stared down at my hand, willing it to do the right thing. Only the rest of me demanded I forget what’s right and go in there and pull Lila’s file, find her address, and make sure she was alright.

  What was happening to me?

  Maybe my compass was really gone.

  The next thing I knew, I was inside my boss’ office, rifling through her filing cabinet.

  We’ll make sure she’s okay, Heart. Don’t worry.

  Lila F.

  My heart stopped.

  I slid the file out and flipped it open on the desk, scanning for the address line. The first thing I realized was that there was no name listed under ‘Guardian.’

  The second thing I realized was that I didn’t need a name.

  That address would probably be etched on my gravestone—a lasting reminder of the birth and death of Tamsin Lucas, the woman who finally gave in to her desires.

  My heart had been beating so fast on the drive over I thought for sure that the speedometer was going to start picking up its pace over the mph of my car. But now that I was standing back in front of that same ornate wooden door I faced last week, it stopped.

  Knock, knock.

  No answer.

  I went to the window and tried to look inside. Nothing.

  Back along the pool, I peered through the windows by the door into the kitchen.

  No one.

  I rubbed my clammy hands on the cotton of my sweater as feet that I barely recognized carried me up the walkway to the front door of the main house. Literally anything could have been behind this door. Anything. And none of it would have surprised me in this moment.

  I was angry. I was hurt. I felt betrayed.

  I had no reason to, but that didn’t matter.

  I knocked on the main door, half-expecting it to creak open like in Beauty and the Beast—if for no other reason than the door looked like it belonged to a castle. And the fact that I suspected there was a Beast hiding in there somewhere—one that I had a bone to pick with.

  The door opened soundlessly, and a familiar face appeared.

  “Miss Tammy?” Sofia’s confused greeting quickly turned into concern as she looked around me and then back behind her, as though she were afraid who else might be here.

  “Hello, Sofia. I’m here to see Lila,” I said as firmly as possible.

  “I-I don’t know if that is possible,” she stuttered. “One moment, please.”

  As soon as she moved away from the door, I pushed it farther ajar and slipped inside. My stomach was in knots, each wrong decision I made adding another kink in the line.

  It wasn’t trespassing if the door was left open, right?

  If the guest house had awed me, the foyer that I walked into surely stole my breath with its knockout grandiosity.

  Marble everywhere. Marble floors, huge marble staircase to the left with a gilded railing. A table in the entryway where a vase sat overflowing with flowers that I had no option but to assume were real. Columns graced every doorway. Floral and gold were laced together into every piece of decor. And paintings that looked like they belonged in a museum.

  Jay Gatsby would have been impressed.

  The richness of Chanel clung to the air like emblems on a designer handbag, making each breath a reminder that I—the ranch girl from Wyoming—didn’t belong here for so many reasons.

  The opulence was so showy, it could only mean there was something to hide.

  I clutched the stuffed Dory in my hands, tempted to hold her to me just like I’d seen Lila do a thousand times and hoped it would bring me the same amount of comfort.

  How could he not have said anything?

  He knew that I worked at Open Hearts; how could he not have reached out to me?

  How did no one know that Nick Frost had a child?

  I sucked in a loud breath as another invisible punch struck me. Maybe they did. Maybe I was the only one.

  Bitter betrayal swelled in my throat. It seemed ironic to be in such a beautiful space, yet to feel so utterly sickened with hurt.

  “Mammy!”

  My head jerked toward the stairwell, not believing my ears—or my heart, until I saw her; Lila, perfectly hale and whole, tearing dangerously down the stairs, her warm blonde pigtails and bright eyes bouncing as she headed straight for me. I choked on my breath having never felt so relieved.

  Kneeling down, I barely unclasped my arms from in front of my chest when she launched herself into them, knocking me back.

  I knew it was possible to care this much about a child that wasn’t your own—I’d seen it every time my parents had adopted one of my siblings. Somehow… some way… my heart was attached with an invisible string to this little girl, tethering me to her fate.

  I only wished that her fate wasn’t also linked to Nick Frost.

  I held Lila tight, breathing in her happy innocence. She was okay. She was happy. I had to keep reminding myself as I half-listened to her blubber in my ear about how she missed me—and Janie and Alexa (her friends from daycare). Now, as I gulped in air, all I smelled was fresh shampoo and grapes.

  “Priss?”

  My body tensed all over. Oh no.

  My head whipped up at the sound of my name on his lips.

  Nick stood at the top of the stairs, Sofia slightly behind him. I couldn’t stop my eyes as they trailed over him, soaking in every inch as my body eagerly revisited the memories of his touch. All this extravagance around him, and he stood wearing jeans and a
white Burton tee. Whatever these walls hid, he was part of it—and he looked like he was ready to run, leaving a pile of ashes in his wake.

  A cold shiver drifted down up my spine as my eyes met his. While I’d been ogling him like a donut placed in front of a dieter, he just stared at me and Lila—his daughter. My skin buzzed at the murky blend of confusion and hurt in his gaze, the mixture quickly concealed with anger. His glare tore through me like I was strangling his daughter instead of hugging her.

  “How did she get in here?” he ground out to Sofia who stood behind him.

  The vastness of the space would have made a pin-drop sound like a cannon, so I heard clearly each blast of every damaging syllable he uttered.

  “I thought it was the woman—” She broke off as Nick held up his hand, realizing what she was about to say.

  Like a king coming to greet his servants—or render judgment on his enemies, Nick walked down the stairs, his eyes never leaving mine.

  He stopped just in front of me and that’s when I realized that he hadn’t been staring at me, he’d been staring at Lila.

  “She hugs you…” he murmured as though he didn’t understand.

  My mouth parted, an awkward hum escaping because I didn’t know how to respond.

  And then his face hardened, and he bit out through clenched teeth, “Why are you here?”

  “She came to bring back my Dory!” Lila exclaimed, pulling the stuffed animal from my hand and holding it up for her dad to see.

  “There she is!” he exclaimed with only excitement for his daughter.

  I’d thought Nick Frost exquisitely beautiful before. Before, I didn’t know what beautiful was.

  Beautiful was the way he looked at his daughter as though she lit his universe.

  “Mammy,” she said and turned to me, squishing Dory to her chest. “Did Dory forget how to get home? Is that why you had to bring her?”

  I ignored the way Nick’s eyes flared when he heard how Lila addressed me. “Well,” I said with a smile, “you know how forgetful she is. She just found me the other day and asked for my help getting home, that’s why it took so long.”