LACHLAN
I’ve created a monster.
OLIVIA
You’re just bothered because I’ve systematically and strategically raised my score by 60%.
LACHLAN
I still think Sylvie slipped you some cheat codes.
OLIVIA
Not true, but I am sleeping with the game designer.
LACHLAN
The perks to that must be endless.
OLIVIA
That’s what he tells me...
Four weeksafter the world’s best movie premiere, I inspected myself in our bathroom mirror as I applied makeup for the first time in weeks.
Coffee-stained leggings? Check.
Mars Warssweatshirt stolen from Lachlan’s closet? Check.
Hair in a disastrously disarrayed bun on my head? Check.
High heels? Nope.
Designer outfit I’m still paying for? No way.
Weighty expectations to overachieve and follow a meticulously created life plan? Never again.
Because plans were great—and don’t get me wrong, I was still making them—but my days were just as sweet in all the side roads and detours that life took me down. Like now, for instance. I’dplannedon watching two hours of a reality show, grabbing a snack, then committing to two more hours ofMars Wars. But instead, I was meeting my husband at the Lost Story. And I hopedhisplan included queso, extra salsa, and his lips on mine.
Fifteen minutes later, I parked the car near Rosie’s store and burrowed deeper into my coat. Light flurries spit and spun in the crisp air, and I could smell snow on the breeze. The sky above me might’ve been gray, but my heart was as bright as the sunshine in June. In a few days it would be Christmas, and I couldn’t wait to share it with Lachlan.
Mars Warsthe movie earned blockbuster status right out of the gate. It still played in sold out theaters across the globe, and there was buzz already for the screenwriter and lead actor. I was so proud of Lachlan, I could hardly stand it.
As I opened the front door of the Lost Story, a bell tinkled overhead and warm air whooshed out to welcome me.
“Hey, Rosie.” I waved to my sister, who stood behind the cash register, ringing up a sale to Sylvie. “Do not let her buy any more Harry Styles photo biographies,” I called out.
The store was sadly empty for the noon hour, but I knew Rosie had been crazy busy for the holidays. And maybe I’d just missed the rush, because Hattie stood in the mystery section, unboxing books. That was so like her to help on her lunch break. We Suttons liked to pitch in.
“Another date with your sweetie?” Sylvie asked as she slipped her receipt in her bag and made her way to me.
I tugged off my gloves and stuffed them in my coat. “Tacos and books. What more could a girl ask for?’
“Hm.” Her lips curved into a smile. “Indeed.” Then my grandmother threw her arms around me and yanked me into a hug that would’ve done rib damage to someone whohadn’tput on ten pounds from near-constant gaming. “I do love you, Olivia.”
“I love you too.” I awkwardly patted her back. “Have you seen Lachlan?”
She straightened and smoothed her flawless hair. “I believe he’s around here somewhere. Rosie, have you seen Lachlan?” she called.
