Fake It ‘Til You Sleigh It

CHAPTER TWO

Ethan

“I’m gonna sink my teeth into you, sweetheart.”

I take a bite out of the key lime jelly donut, savoring its tart sweetness. Am I sweet-talking a pastry? Only because she’s my favorite and never disappoints, unlike a certain uptight director. Eating powdered sugar while wearing a red velvet suit is playing with fire, but hey, I’ve never been one to shy away from a little danger.

I sink into the makeup chair like it’s my personal throne, ready to ho-ho-ho my way through another day of being everyone’s favorite holiday heartthrob. I close my eyes, surrendering to the flurry of hands that groom and polish me to perfection. Brushes tickle my face, weaving their magic. The air is heavy with hairspray and coffee—the official scent of mornings in showbiz.

Phone in hand, I press record, unleashing the smile that’s earned me my King of Christmas crown.

“Morning, beauties! Don’t miss me on Rise & Glow LA today. I’ve got a special treat in store for you. Keep it sexy.”

I wink and hit Post , feeling the familiar twinge of… something. Emptiness? Nah, probably just hunger. Nothing another donut can’t fix.

But it’s not all pussy and presents being the King of Christmas.

Every day, it’s ‘Ethan, say something charming,’ or ‘Ethan, give us that smolder.’ I love spreading holiday cheer like it’s my job (which, technically, it is) , but sometimes, beneath all the tinsel and twinkling lights, I wonder if anyone sees the real me. The artist. The guy with actual thoughts in his surprisingly handsome head. The actor who wants to be more than a holiday hottie.

Don’t get me wrong, the role has its perks. There’s no shortage of gorgeous women vying for a spot on my “nice” list. It’s a jolly way to pass the time between movies. But lately, this gig has left me feeling like a regifted sweater—slightly worn and wondering if I’ll ever find someone who wants to keep me for more than a season.

Every romantic scene I perform lately has me questioning if that kind of love truly exists, especially for a guy like me. Still, I keep playing the part.

Charming smile? Check.

Witty one-liners? You bet your ass.

Gratuitous shirtless scenes? If you’ve got it, flaunt it.

But deep down, I’m terrified that’s all I have to offer—a pretty face with a knack for selling bullshit. However, I’ve made a commitment. The Yuletide show must go on… for now.

BANG!

The door flies open. There she is: Chase “Killjoy” Pemberton. Game face on and ready to conquer the world—or at least make this morning talk show her bitch.

“Prep time, Ethan,” she snaps. “Don’t forget to plug the snowman scene. Make sure you tell them how hilarious it is.”

“Smokin’ hot snowman. Got it, boss.” I wink.

She rolls her eyes.

Score one for Ethan.

Getting under her skin is my favorite game to play. Her very warm, smooth skin.

That citrus shampoo scent of hers is like a time machine. One whiff brings me back to when we first met. It’s subtle but intoxicating, and it messes with my head every damn time. Her voice, with its rich, velvety husk, doesn’t help either. It still does things to me, firing up parts that should know better by now.

This woman drives me nuts, but I can admit it: Her signature ponytail and high cheekbones are a deadly combo. Sure, she wears that brunette topknot so tight, you can almost hear her scalp begging for mercy. But there’s no denying she’s gorgeous, with those captivating brown eyes and lashes that cast their own spell. And that athletic build? Let’s just say her full, pursed lips are making it really hard to stay focused.

But then she speaks, and it’s like a cold shower on my warm thoughts. Not to mention she’s decked out in an all-black suit... for a morning talk show. Her outfit is basically screaming “Fuck off” in a room full of holiday cheer. It’s a harsh reminder of the ice queen underneath. Suddenly, my dick wants to crawl into a hole and hibernate for the winter.

“Dingleberry, focus up! The second agenda item is the Christmas karaoke scene,” she says, pacing. “Since this is the first movie you sing in, we gotta hype that up. Audiences will go wild for it!”

I nod along, trying not to laugh at her intensity. Sometimes Chase takes herself way too seriously. Okay, all the time. I wonder if there’s some alternate universe where a more laid-back version of Chase exists—one who’d actually laugh at my jokes and be fun on set.

But here’s the catch: she’s the best damn director I’ve ever worked with. Her eye for detail, her vision, the way she can coax a solid performance out of even the worst actors—it’s fucking impressive. Not that I’d ever admit that to her. I’ve got an image to maintain, and it doesn’t involve kissing the director’s ass. Even if she looks incredible in those tight pants she wears.

No matter how hard I try with each movie, she remains unimpressed. Thank God the network forced her to hire me. It was a hit to my ego, I’ll admit. I’m used to women throwing their panties at me. But Chase? She sees me as an annoyance she can’t shake off, like gum stuck to her shoe. Which, frankly, makes me want to irritate her more.

After five films together, I’m still trying to break through her ice queen exterior. I’ve got ambitions, damn it. I’m not here only to play the heartthrob. I want to make a real impact and help these films shine. Who knows, maybe even direct someday? Working with Chase is a challenge, but it’s also a masterclass in filmmaking—if you can endure it.

Like how I’m enduring this talk show etiquette lecture as if I haven’t already nailed the morning show game. Hell, I could teach a course on winning over hosts while being half-awake and nursing a hangover.

“Finally, and this is critical,” she continues, her nostrils flaring like an angry bull. “We need more Cherish Channel subscribers. Tell them it’s the perfect gift for Christmas. First month is free—emphasize that.”

“Whoa there, Holiday Huckster,” I say, ignoring the fire igniting in her eyes. “Why are you all worked up? It’s a morning show… light banter. Ya know, fun and festive.”

Chase huffs out a breath, putting a slight pause in her manic pacing. “Easy for you to say. I have never done a live interview before.”

Holy shit! Is Chase actually nervous? She may be Darth Director behind the camera, but that look in her eyes is unmistakable… pure panic.

Usually, I’d be on this like powdered sugar on a donut, but surprisingly I’m feeling… protective? Huh, that’s weird.

“Relax. We’ll just go out and do some friendly chit-chat. Try to enjoy yourself.”

But she looks like she’s about to pee her pants, throw up, and faint all at once. I can’t have her melting down on camera, or we’ll both look bad.

“Hey, chill! What’s the worst that could happen? You mess up and become an internet punchline? Like that ‘Side-Eyeing Chloe’ girl or the ‘Double Rainbow’ dude? I mean, yeah, your dignity would be toast, but think of all the sweet meme money!”

Nailed it. Yeah, I’m basically a life coach.

Chase looks worse now. I pretend like that was helpful and spin towards Tiffany, the blonde makeup goddess who dives right back in, doing her thing on my face.

She smooths foundation over my defined features and dabs a little concealer under my eyes. Let’s be real—it’s not like I need it. I wake up this handsome.

“So, Tiff, any wild holiday plans?”

“You know I do. Get this. Flights out of LA are so cheap…”

As Tiffany launches into the story of her upcoming Vegas girls’ trip, I sneak a glance at Chase from the corner of my eye. Her shoulders drop a fraction, which I take as a good sign. She settles into the makeup chair next to mine and starts breathing again.

“Hot damn, Ethan,” Tiffany purrs, giving my jawline one last stroke. “This red suit is sinful. You look like a snack.”

“Thanks!” I say, letting my famous panty-dropping smile linger—the same one that launched a thousand housewife fantasies.

“What’s your deal? I’m guessing a sexy holiday vacay.” Tiffany pries.

“Nah, I’m counting down the hours until I head home for Christmas. My family goes all out—the tree literally sags with ornaments, the gingerbread house showdowns are intense, and get this—my dad dresses up as a retired Santa, complete with flip-flops, a red bathrobe, and a hat that says off duty .”

“Aww, that’s adorable,” Tiffany coos. “Your parents gotta be so proud. Their son being the King of Christmas and all.”

“Oh, without a doubt. My mama’s more obsessed about Christmas than Santa himself.”

Tiffany’s assistant, Kate, a bubbly girl with pink hair, starts to apply makeup on Chase. With a bright smile, she asks, “What about you? Any fun holiday plans?”

“Christmas vacation? Hard pass,” Chase says, her voice flatter than my abs (which, for the record, are spectacular) .

Both makeup artists gasp.

“I do the same thing every year,” she continues, dripping with the disdain of a teenager forced to hang out with their parents. “I rent a cabin in Lake Tahoe where I can focus on writing my next script. No family, no drama. Just me. Alone. Preferably buried under ten feet of snow.”

Okay, pooh-poohing Christmas I can not condone. Time to poke the Chase-bear again. “Really? No family to order around like minions on Christmas Day? I’m sure you have some secret holiday tradition… Maybe watching It’s a Wonderful Life and rooting for Mr. Potter?”

Chase’s death glare could make Satan himself piss his pants. Worth it. So fucking worth it.

Tiffany puts the finishing touches on my hair. She grins at me in the mirror. “You’re perfect,” she says, then adds with a giggle, “Not that you weren’t perfect before. You’re even more perfect-er.”

Kate examines her blush palette before selecting a soft-pink shade. I can’t help but enjoy the sight of Chase looking utterly miserable in the hot seat.

“I love your cheekbones,” Kate gushes. “I’d throw away my favorite vibrator for bone structure like that.”

“I’m flattered,” says Chase coldly, distancing the compliment. “Keep it natural,” she instructs. “No red lips. I’m a director, not an actor.”

“No warm colors, please,” I stage whisper to Kate. “She likes to keep her face in Ebenezer Scrooge mode . And God help us if she ever smiles. You best run for your life—it’s a sign of the apocalypse.”

“I have no desire to participate in this absurd interview,” Chase grumbles. “If your co-star wasn’t knocked up, I wouldn’t be here.”

I smirk. “Don’t blame a baby for your stage fright.”

She narrows her eyes. “Ethan, I need you to be irresistible out there. We need new subscribers as badly as we need oxygen. That’s our top priority. Do something big, I mean it.”

I waggle my eyebrows. “Sure thing, boss. Should I give the host a lap dance?”

“Yes, if that’ll bring in more viewers,” Chase says without missing a beat.

“Relax, I’ve got this shit handled. Let me work my magic. After all, I’m the King of Christmas.”

***

“And we’re live! Christmas is sneaking up on us—less than two weeks away! We’re celebrating the best of the holidays every morning. I’m your host, Madison Morgan, and you’re watching Rise and Glow LA.”

Madison sparkles under the lights. With her flawless smile and her sleek blonde bob, she’s everyone’s bestie. Her excitement is contagious, and the audience dances along as she struts around, high-fiving fans.

The holiday set is a straight-up winter wonderland, like the North Pole got a Hollywood facelift. Pine garlands decked out with sparkling ornaments line the walls, and snowflakes dangle from the ceiling, glinting like tiny diamonds. Every available surface has been yassified.

Chase and I are perched on our chairs, waiting for our cue like obedient circus animals. I’m channeling my inner sexy Santa, cooler than a cucumber in a friggin’ ice bath, while Chase is… Holy hell!

I catch a whiff of what I can only describe as “Eau de Panic” wafting off her. It’s a delightful bouquet of flop sweat, the mint gum she’s been furiously chomping, and the unmistakable scent of fear. Her knees are bouncing like she’s got a goddamn earthquake happening in her pants. At this rate, she’s gonna rocket off that chair like a jittery jack-in-the-box.

Is that genuine fear in Chase’s eyes? Shit, it is. The woman is trembling, much like I was when she made me reshoot a kiss scene forty-seven times in sub-zero temperatures… during a snowstorm! Where the hell is my iron-willed director—the one known for making grown men cry on set? Since when did I start caring about Chase’s feelings? Damn. I must be coming down with something.

I place a hand on her thigh. “Easy there, Sonic,” I whisper. “You need to spit your gum out. And settle down before you drill a hole through the floor.”

“Touch me again, Barrett, and you’ll be singing ‘Jingle Bells’ in a voice so high, Mariah Carey will be jealous.”

“Copy that,” I whisper, removing my hand but not my gaze. I’m about to tell her to take a breath when—

“Today I’m here with the hunky star of the new Christmas movie, Fa La La Love, on the Cherish Channel. He’s the King of Christmas . Let’s hear it for Ethan Barrett!”

The audience erupts in applause. I live for this—the attention, the showboating. I love an audience that just wants to have a good time. I give an appreciative grin and wave. “Thanks for having me, Madison. Always a pleasure to spread some holiday cheer.”

“And with you is your co-star, Chase Pemberton,” Madison continues.

“Actually, I’m the writer and director,” Chase corrects, her tone so icy it could freeze my balls off. “His co-star, Erin Calloway, is on mandatory bed rest, so… here I am.”

Oof. The audience’s enthusiasm deflates faster than a dollar-store air mattress.

“We’re all really thrilled for Erin,” I cut in with practiced ease. “She’s about to have a happy, healthy baby boy.”

The crowd collectively ‘awws,’ and just like that, we’re back on track.

Madison launches into our backstory, explaining how many movies Chase and I have done together. Then, as if our ‘let me do the talking’ convo never happened, Chase jumps in.

“I actually discovered Ethan,” she says, a hint of pride in her voice. “It’s a really funny story.”

Oh boy. Here we go.

“He was a nobody. Ethan was doing foot fungus commercials before I cast him.”

“What can I say? You saw what a fun-GUY I was, so you had to scoop me up, didn’t ya,” I joke, steering us back to safer waters. “But seriously, we have such a strong connection. I mean, how else do you explain us collaborating on film after film? We can practically read each other’s thoughts.”

I shoot Chase a “shut the hell up” look, and her eyes narrow. Message received.

Madison presents to the camera with a glimmer in her eyes. “Chase, tell us why you love making romantic movies about the holidays. You must have had amazing Christmases as a kid. Your movies are so magical.”

Chase freezes, like Santa getting caught by Mrs. Claus on Grindr. “Well, umm…”

Oh my God, Chase. That was an easy one.

“We both love to sprinkle in that childhood charm,” I jump in smoothly. “My family absolutely loves Christmas, so it’s a piece of cake for me to bring that joy to each character I play. It’s the best holiday there is.”

The women in the audience swoon and clap. One of them yells, “We love you, Ethan!”

I pretend to blush and blow a kiss. “Right back at you, gorgeous!”

Chase regains her voice. “So, um, the Cherish Channel has this super cool... promotion thingy. For Christmas. New subscribers get their first month free! Isn’t that... neat?”

“Let’s take questions from the audience,” Madison says, ignoring Chase’s lead.

A woman stands up, wearing a shirt that reads All I Want for Christmas is Ethan Barrett with my face plastered on it (gotta get me one of those) . “I want to know about your real-life romance, Ethan,” the fan gushes. “Who will you be kissing under the mistletoe this year?”

“Hold up… Is that really what you’re curious about?” I say, playing coy. “Who I’m dating?”

I saw this one coming a mile away. It's always the same question. My dating life is a never-ending parade of starlets, and the gossip sites can’t get enough.

The audience bursts into applause and loud catcalls.

Madison shouts over the rowdy crowd. “Stand up ladies, and cheer! Let’s convince Ethan to stop dishing on his movie and instead dish on his love life!”

I can feel Chase’s rage burrowing into the side of my head. Sorry, princess, but they love me, not your precious writing. Chase has her Resting Grinch Face on, but then, strangely, her face changes, as if she’s solved an impossible equation.

Madison motions for them to sit back down, then leans in. “Okay, Ethan. Spill the tea. Who’s the lucky lady warming your bed this holiday season?”

I open my mouth, ready to serve up my usual charm-and-dodge routine, but—

“It’s me,” Chase blurts out. “Ethan and I are a couple!”

Wait, what?

My stomach drops.

Freefall.

“We’ve kept it hush-hush so far,” Chase says, her voice filled with fake sweetness, “but eager Ethan here has been bursting to announce our love to the world. Right, honeybunch?”

I nod. Mechanical. Smile frozen. Inside? Screaming.

Madison’s eyes go wide. “Hold the phone! You two? But I thought… I mean, aren’t you guys notoriously at each other’s throats?”

“You know how romance goes… Opposites attract!” Chase chirps. “But seriously, our movie, Fa La La Love, mirrored our love story in the most insane way.” She turns to me, her smile sharp. “Ethan, tell them about the karaoke scene.”

“I, uh…” Words. Where are my words?

“Don’t be shy!” Chase pinches my cheek.

Is this what they call an out-of-body experience? Because I’m pretty sure I’m watching my career implode in real time.

“Let me tell it,” Chase says, her eyes twinkling. “So, during filming, Ethan was trying to drop hints about his feelings, but I was totally oblivious. I mean, Ethan’s always so charming, it’s hard to read the signs!” She winks at the audience. “There’s this adorable karaoke scene in Fa La La Love —and let me tell you, Ethan’s voice is to die for—and when I called ‘cut,’ he started serenading me with ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You.’”

The audience lets out a collective “Aww,” and I wonder if it’s too late to make a run for it.

“Don’t even get me started on the snowman scene,” Chase continues, clearly on a roll. “Let’s just say Ethan needed some serious help with his snowman-building skills.”

I try to regain some control. “I didn’t need her help, but she’s always there, offering it regardless.”

Chase turns to the audience. “Ladies, he’s as romantic as you think. Ethan planned this whole moment on set during the snowman scene. He waited until I called ‘cut,’ then wrapped his arms around me and whispered, ‘You know best. That’s why I always listen to you… and also I love you.’”

“That’s not exactly how I said it,” I interject.

“Oh, you totally did! You even set up this whole romantic scene with the props department, making fake snow fall on us. And then, with tears in your eyes, you kissed me right there and asked me to be your girlfriend.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly tears,” I say. “A fake snowflake got in my eye. Those things are made of soap, so my eyes were stinging like hell.”

“That is so beautiful,” Madison gushes.

“Isn’t it?” Chase says, her expression turning serious. “We were two people caught off guard by love. It wasn’t in the script, but life writes its own story. Love swoops in and turns your world upside down.”

I nod, utterly defeated. What else can I do?

“Oh, this is a juicy exclusive!” Madison says, looking stunned.

The audience jumps to their feet, whistling and hollering.

Chase beams, proudly taking in the immediate, ecstatic reaction.

“So, will you two be spending Christmas together?”

“Of course! We’re spending it with Ethan’s family,” Chase says. “I’m excited, Ethan’s excited. His whole family is excited!”

I’m a pretty good actor, but I can’t sell “excited” at the moment.

“Ethan’s family goes all out for Christmas. There are gingerbread house contests, and we’ll be decorating the tree together.” Chase starts to fake giggle.

I listen in shock as she repeats my words from earlier like they’re hers.

“And Ethan’s dad dresses up as a retired Santa in flip-flops and a red bathrobe. It’s so cute.”

“Sounds incredible. And where are they located?” Madison asks.

“Well, you know… they’re Ethan’s family. I don’t want to speak for him.”

Chase fixes her manic eyes on me.

“Florida,” I manage to croak out.

“Florida?” Chase echoes, her voice rising an octave. “Yup, that’s right. So many fun things planned for Christmas in… Florida.”

Chase wraps her arm around mine in a move that’s about as smooth as a middle schooler at their first dance. “You should follow Ethan on social media for special sneak peeks of the movie… and us, being in love… right, sweetie pie?”

I pat her hand awkwardly. “Soooooo much love.”

Note to self: Next time, do these interviews alone or hire a body double for Chase, or better yet, don’t let there be a next time.

“Well, you heard it here first! Holiday love is in the air. Don’t miss out on their new movie premiering in twelve days on Christmas Eve. Only on the Cherish Channel! And when we come back, we’ll show you how to wrap the perfect Christmas gift… with your feet!”

Chase, subtle as a sledgehammer, blurts out one more agenda item, “And buy your loved ones a subscription to the Cherish Channel for Christmas. First month’s free!”

What in the sweet mother of fuck just happened?