Nolan cut a sideways glance at her while all I could do was stand there as if I’d never encountered another human being before.
“See you both tomorrow,” he said. “Hopefully the house survives the aggressive festivities Cressida puts it through.”
Breaking out of my stupor, I said, “Hopefullywesurvive.”
“Touché.” As he passed us, he touched my wrist so lightly I wondered if I’d imagined it, but the look ofpossessivenessin his eyes had my knees knocking together. He’d claimed me in front of Frankie, and he didn’t give a flying flapjack if she noticed.
“Well this oughta be interesting,” Frankie remarked.
Warmth blasted us as we entered the house to the sound of cheerful holiday music. “Holy shit,” said Frankie, taking in the scene. Cressida had been busy. It looked like Christmas threw up everywhere—although tastefully. A fire crackled in the hearth and the place was bursting with festive decorations. Even a perfectly shaped tree stood proudly in the corner, sparkling with white lights and golden ornaments.
Looking like Queen Elsa herself, Cressida stood at the island wearing a matching set of frosty blue pajamas, her white-blonde hair twisted into an intricate braid. Beaming at us, she said, “Come in! I’m just making thepunch. Go and sit.” Unscrewing a bottle of Grey Goose, she upended the entire thing into a massive crystal bowl along with a handful of frozen strawberries.
Frankie nudged me, saying, “I like her already.”
A peal of laughter pulled my attention to the living room where two women lounged on the sofas. One of them, a Black woman in mint-green pajamas with tiny Christmas trees on them, passed us each a glass of pink liquid with some floaty fruit bits. Fixing me with an infectious smile that immediately put me at ease, she said, “You must be Val and Frankie. I’m Daphne and that’s Cora.”
The blonde woman who was a carbon copy of Cressida, just a few years younger, wadded her hair atop her head into dual space buns, then took a big gulp of her drink. “Hate flying, so you’ll excuse me if I got the party started a little early on the way here.”
“All good,” said Frankie, sliding into the seat beside her. “We’ll catch up.”
Sipping on the sweet, strong drink, I sank into a pile of seasonal pillows placed artfully around the table. “Want a hand, Cressida?”
“Nah,” she said, approaching with a bowl of popcorn and plopping down next to me. As I hadn’t had dinner yet, I was already starting to feel the punch, so I stuffed a handful of popcorn in my mouth. It also gave me something else to put in my mouth besides my foot. “Just waiting on the cookies to be done and the pizza will be here soon. Fresh punch is ready for you, Cora, once you guzzle your way through this batch. Should I get a spiral silly straw?”
“Yeah, I’ll take two.”
As the group laughed and chatted around me, my nerves about spending time with Nolan’s fake fiancée vanished. Well, the alcohol buzzing through my system helped a lot. It had been a while since I’d feltcomfortable in a group of women—or a group in general. With the exception of Frankie and Hugh, I preferred spending my free time alone after extroverting all day at work. But a cozy night in with this welcoming group of women?I actually like this.
When a ding-dong at the door heralded the pizza delivery, Cora raced to retrieve it while Cressida got the cookies. In a matter of minutes, a spread of all the best junk food piled high on the coffee table. As we dug in, Daphne’s phone pinged and she groaned, stuffing the offending square between the couch cushions.
“I recognize that look,” Frankie said. “Who’s the guy?”
“Just Anton Alistair.Again,” she said, tossing her braids over her shoulder.“God, he won’t stop hounding me about Nolan’s schedule even though I told him he’s unavailable forever. The guy is persistent.”
“Yeah, persistently into you,” Cressida noted.
“Is that the dude who looks like if Thor was an asshole businessman? The one I saw at the Christmas party last year?” asked Cora as she bit off the head of a gingerbread man.
My eyes widened as Frankie voiced what I was thinking. “He sounds very hot and very bangable.”
“He is,” Cressida said, grinning at Daphne’s glare.
“He’s apain in my ass, is what he is,” said Daphne. “Never mind, what about you, Cora?”
“What about me?”
“Let’s speculate wildly about your love life so I don’t have to talk about my imaginary one.”
“Don’t have one either. Mom and Dad keep trying to set me up with this Silicon Valley imbecile, but my—ah, let’s call itrebellious—nature is a bit of a turn-off forguys like that.”
Cressida laughed. “Yeah, they don’t want to end up swimming in the bay like the last guy.”
“If he didn’t want to get hip checked off the pier, he should’ve thought of that before grabbing my ass without permission.”
Frankie gave a low whistle and raised her glass. “I like you.”
Cora clinked her glass, winking. “Love your necklace, by the way. Where can I get one?”
