Faking Christmas(22)
If it was the pond I noticed on my drive in, it was completely frozen over. I shivered just thinking about it. Jack went on, explaining a few more of the rules while I stirred the mashed potatoes on my plate. I had no desire to make this week any more of a “thing” than it already was. My body had to be here, but that didn’t mean I had to engage more than necessary. Now, thankfully, with the whole boyfriend bit, I wouldn’t have to do any of it. I patted my lying little self on the back for that one.
“Hey, hot guy, 5:00,” Chloe whispered across the table. She was seated facing the buffet table behind me while I was facing the stage.
“If that’s Glenn, I’m going to kill you.”
“He looks like he might work here. Holy cow. He looks just like Jack. That’s got to be his son. Look at him.”
“What? No! Stop being so obvious!”
“Our table's out of butter.”
“What?”
She threw me a salty grin. “He clearly works here. I’m going to ask him for more butter. Be right back.”
Before I could stop her—not that I could have done anything to stop her except fling myself across the table to grab her arm—she scampered off. Kill me now. I refused to look behind me. I had a boyfriend, for crying out loud.
Okay, I heard it, but still.
While I sat there, painfully unaware of what she might be saying to the poor man, I kept myself busy being a docile mother figure to Chloe’s monstrous three-year-olds. Jack seemed very comfortable with a microphone in his hand and began sharing a few corny Christmas jokes. I picked up my fork only to put it back down again, then wiped Ivy’s face with a napkin. What was taking Chloe so long? Was she getting his number? Heaven forbid, was she going to point me out to him?
From across the table, Ben nudged my foot, pulling me out of my panicked musing. “Um, is there a reason my wife has been talking to some mountain-man version of Bradley Cooper for the last five minutes?” he asked, his eyes plastered somewhere behind me.
I stilled. I was tempted to ignore him as he was probably just trying to be funny. But the Bradley Cooper part had me casually scanning the room before darting a quick glance behind me by the doorway. Chloe was standing with her back to me, talking animatedly to a man wearing a flannel shirt with his arms folded. A Bradley Cooper dressed in flannel? But upon closer inspection, the celebrity lookalike in question looked an awful lot like—
A gasp, quick and painful, shot out of me as I blinked my eyes a few times, wondering if I was dreaming. Because there was no way—NO WAY—this could be happening right now. The world was too big for a coincidence this horrible.
And yet…
The man dressed in red flannel rolled up to his forearms, jeans with just enough holes that the teenage guys would think he was one of them, and a stupid gray beanie on his head, was none other than Miles Taylor.
SEVEN
“It's delightful when your imaginations come true, isn't it?”
L.M. Montgomery - Anne of Green Gables
A few things hit me at that moment. First: Jack Taylor was a charismatic delight of a person, but he clearly sucked at getting to know someone. Other than inquiring into what I did for a living, he hadn’t asked me anything of value about my personal life during our little tractor ride this afternoon. Not even where I lived. We could have figured all of this out before I ever reached the lodge, which would have left me plenty of time to fake a horrific stomach virus. I could have been in my car driving home as we speak.
P.S. Stomach virus. Why didn’t I think of that?
Second: Taylor was a common enough name. I sure didn’t imagine that, out of all the schools in and surrounding the state of New York, his son would just so happen to be the guy working in mine. Also, it just occurred to me that I hadn’t had a clue where Miles hailed from. I’m sure I must have known at some point, but I suppose when one is trying their best to avoid the annoyingly attractive new teacher, one tends to forget those minor details.
Miles was smiling and talking to Chloe as she gestured wildly with her hands. He moved a bit closer. Any minute now, she would be pointing me out to him. I had to move. Now. Chloe’s back was to me, but if Miles looked my way, we would lock eyes for sure.
I scanned the room and found a door to the side of me. It looked like it could lead into a hallway of some sort.
That was my target.
To Ben, I said, “I have to use the bathroom.”
His brow furrowed as I stood up. “Listen, I don’t need a play-by-play—“
I was already gone. Once standing, I made a beeline for the door, not looking back, feeling like I had a million eyes trained on me, waiting to pounce.
I was so close to my target. The end was in sight, and then I would fake a brilliant illness and go home.
Once behind the safety of the doors, I found myself in a hallway. Praise the heavens. I took a few calming breaths and peered through a crack in the doorway, trying to see Miles and Chloe, but the angle wasn’t right. The dark hallway meandered toward the entrance. I crept closer to the exit—the door that would also put me closer to Miles and Chloe inside the large room. Not ideal. But I didn’t know any other way to escape. I’d have to risk it.
I slowed my steps as I got closer to the door, peering through the crack, and was startled to see how close Miles and Chloe were to me. Just on the other side. Now was my chance to escape.