Santa Maybe (The Duchess Hotel #1)

Chapter 24

Twenty-Four

Christmas Eve

For as long as Rosie could remember, the highlight of her holiday season was Nochebuena. Held on Christmas Eve at her parents’ house, it was a festive celebration involving most of her extended family. Following a bountiful dinner filled with delicious food and plenty of gossip, everyone would pile into their cars and drive to St. Andrew’s Cathedral for midnight mass. After that, they’d return home for cocoa and presents.

But last year’s celebration had been more stressful than enjoyable. For whatever reason, Rosie’s elderly relatives had all decided her status as an unmarried woman warranted discussion. She’d had a hard time keeping her cool when two of her great-aunts had expressed concern over her childless state (“your womb isn’t getting any younger”). Or when her widowed great-uncle urged her to try dating apps and then explained how he’d used them to orchestrate a series of spicy hookups. It was more than she’d ever needed to know about his sex life.

This year, however? She’d been excited to bring Drew as her date. With him playing the role of her boyfriend, she could prove to everyone that she wasn’t a dried-up old maid.

Except now she was single. Again . And it was her own damn fault. If she hadn’t gone overboard in expressing her feelings, she and Drew would still be together—even if it was just for show. Earlier this morning, she’d been tempted to call him and ask if he’d fill the role for one more night. But she couldn’t do it. No matter how much she was hurting, she needed to get through the evening on her own.

With most of her relatives set to arrive around five, she’d decided to come an hour early. This way, she could break the news to her parents and siblings first.

When she let herself in, Jaime, her dad, and Isabella’s husband, Peter, were in the living room watching TV. She greeted them quickly, stopping by her dad’s armchair to give him a peck on the cheek. Fortunately, the men were too engrossed in a prerecorded soccer game to comment on Drew’s absence. She went into the kitchen, where Mamá, Isabella, and Jaime’s wife, Camila, stood around the kitchen island. Graciela sat in a high chair, demolishing a bowl of pudding. As was typical, she’d smeared most of it on the tray in front of her, though she’d also gotten some in her hair.

After greeting them with hugs and kisses, Rosie waited for them to ask about Drew. Instead, their attention was focused on the large slow cooker at the center of the island, filled with her mom’s ponche navide?o—Mexican punch flavored with hibiscus, tamarind, cinnamon sticks, sugar cane, rum, and plenty of chopped-up fruit. Knowing Mamá, it had been simmering for hours. Beside it was a smaller crockpot, which probably held the nonalcoholic version.

Though it was early to start drinking, some punch might ease the tension in Rosie’s shoulders. It was only a matter of time before Drew’s name came up.

“Does the big one have rum in it?” she asked.

Isabella rubbed her stomach, which was the size of a small beach ball. “Of course. But I told Má she didn’t use enough booze. Not that she’ll let me taste-test it.”

“You know it’s not good for your baby,” Mamá said. “Besides, if we add too much rum, no one will be able to stay awake for mass.”

“If Father Joseph is doing the homily, no one will stay awake, regardless of how much they’ve had to drink,” Isabella grumbled. “That dude is ancient.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky, and Father Randy will lead the mass.” Camila grinned. “He’s easy on the eyes.”

“Isn’t he, though?” Isabella said.

“Hush, you two. Enough blasphemy.” Mamá ladled a small serving of punch into a mug and handed it to Rosie. “You try it.”

She took a small sip, delighting in the soothing warmth and the mingled flavors of cinnamon, cloves, and hibiscus. “It’s good, but it could use a teeny bit more booze.”

“You see!” Isabella said. “She agrees with me.”

“Do you think it needs any more fruit?” Camila asked.

“Maybe some extra orange slices?” Rosie said. “Those are my favorite.”

“Fine.” Mamá plucked two oranges out of the fruit bowl and handed them to her, along with a knife and a cutting board. “You add them.”

As Rosie sliced the oranges, Isabella uncapped the rum bottle and poured a hefty dose into the bowl. When she was done stirring, she took Rosie’s mug and ladled out another serving. “Try it again.”

Rosie sipped it. “Perfect. Now I can taste the rum, but it’s not too overpowering.” She divvied up the orange slices between the two bowls, then put the cutting board and knife in the dishwasher. “Má, do you need help with anything else?”

“I’m good, thanks. Where’s Drew?” Mamá made a show of looking around the kitchen, as though she expected him to pop out of the pantry. “Is he coming separately?”

Damn. Rosie had hoped for a few more minutes of relaxed conversation before facing the firing squad. “He’s not coming. We…um…broke up. Two days ago.”

“Already? Rosie!” There was no mistaking the accusation in Mamá’s voice. “But why? He was so nice. So thoughtful. What did you do to make him leave?”

Rosie tossed back the rest of her punch, then scooped another serving into her mug. If she was going to endure her mom’s questions, she might as well fortify herself. “What makes you think I did anything?”

“Because I know you,” Mamá snapped. “You work too much. All those hours at the Duchess. Evenings and weekends. Didn’t I say you’re too obsessed with your job? How are you ever going to find a husband if you can’t make time for anything except that hotel?”

“You need to get your priorities straight,” Isabella said. “If your job is the only thing you care about, you’ll never have a shot at love.”

Rosie ground her teeth in frustration. “It’s not just about me. Come January, my whole team could be out of work if we don’t meet our boss’s expectations. I don’t want them to end up unemployed.”

But Mamá wasn’t buying it. “They’re single, too, right? This is what happens when women your age let their careers take precedence over everything else. Poor Drew probably got tired of always coming in second.”

Usually, Rosie let the criticism roll over her. But if it hadn’t been for her mom’s incessant nagging, she wouldn’t have agreed to Drew’s scheme in the first place. And she wouldn’t be facing Christmas Eve feeling heartbroken. If she wanted her family to understand her better, she needed to be completely honest.

“Our breakup wasn’t about my job,” she said. “We ended things because I was done pretending.”

“Pretending?” Isabella demanded. “What are you talking about?”

Rosie’s face flamed as she struggled to get the words out. “My relationship with Drew…wasn’t real. It was just for show.”

Mamá braced her hands on the kitchen island, as though the shock had physically wounded her. “Ay, Rosalina. Why would you do that? Why lie to me and everyone else?”

Tears welled up in Rosie’s eyes. She’d never meant to cause her mother grief. But now that her secret was out, she needed to explain why she’d resorted to such desperate measures.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I lied because I’m tired of all the pressure. It’s bad enough that I’m struggling to keep my job, but every time I come over, you criticize me for being single. Like I’m not enough, no matter what I do, just because I haven’t found a husband. It makes me feel pathetic.”

“You have to admit that pretending to have a boyfriend is pretty pathetic,” Isabella said.

Rosie glared at her. “Part of the reason I did it was to help Drew. It started because of his ex, who’s also an instructor at Northlife Fitness. Back when they were dating, she cheated on him with her ex—who’d just gotten hired as Drew’s supervisor.”

“Poor Drew,” Isabella said. “That had to be way humiliating.”

“It gets worse. Then she got engaged to this guy and invited Drew to the wedding, along with all their coworkers. He told me about it when I ran into him at happy hour. When I mentioned how frustrated I was, constantly getting set up with dates at our family dinners, we agreed to help each other out. We pretended we were dating so that neither of us had to feel like losers at these social events. But I’m sorry I lied to you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She set her mug on the table, reluctant to drink any more booze on an empty stomach. Now that she’d offered up her confession, she didn’t want to double down by getting drunk. She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms as she waited for her mom to chastise her.

But instead of yelling, Mamá shook her head sadly. “No, I’m sorry, mija. I didn’t realize we made you feel that way. There’s nothing pathetic about being single.”

What? “Then why set me up with all those different guys? Why nag me about dating?”

Mamá approached Rosie and pulled her into a hug. “Because you work too hard. You’ve always been that way. I admire your drive, but you need a better work-life balance. Time for yourself, time for your job, and time for a loving relationship. I thought if I could find the right person for you, then you’d realize what you were missing. That’s all I wanted.”

A sob choked Rosie’s throat as she surrendered to her mom’s embrace. All this time, when Mamá had told her, “We just want you to be happy,” she’d actually meant it.

“I’m so proud of you,” Mamá said. “We all are. To come this far in your career, at your age, is a blessing. But it can’t be the only thing in your life.”

“It’s not. I have all of you. And my friends.” Rosie pulled away and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m not completely alone.”

“I know, but you seemed so happy when Drew was around. Instead of just complaining about the hotel, you let us help you. We liked getting involved in your world.”

“I liked it, too. I’ll try to ask for help more often.” Rosie let out a long, shuddering breath. Even if she and Drew weren’t together, at least she’d been brave enough to tell her mom the truth. But to her surprise, Isabella was now scowling at her, arms crossed.

“What is it?” she asked. “I said I’m sorry.”

“I call bullshit on the pretend thing,” Isabella said. “Maybe it started out that way, but I saw how Drew looked at you. He was totally whipped.”

“I agree,” Camila said. “He also played Santa for your hotel. That’s huge.”

“And he invited us to that Friday night event with the cocoa and singing,” Mamá added. “He didn’t have to do that. I think he truly cares about you.”

As the weight of their words sank in, Rosie was tempted to deny it. Anything to avoid confessing her unrequited love for Drew. But as she looked at the concerned faces around her, she didn’t want to hide her feelings from them.

“He does care about me, and I feel the same way about him. But two nights ago, I told him I wanted our relationship to be real. I…said I was in love with him. He wasn’t ready for that.” She sniffed, trying to hold back a fresh round of tears.

Isabella handed her a tissue. “You go hard, don’t you? Most people would work up to a big declaration like that, but I’ll bet you just blurted it all out.”

Rosie couldn’t help but laugh. “You know me. Go big or go home.”

“Maybe Drew needs time to take it all in,” Camila said. “Men don’t always express their feelings as easily as we do.”

Isabella smacked her hand on the kitchen island. “They’re fucking clueless is what they are. The first time I admitted to Petey that I was falling for him, he didn’t take it well.”

“Isabella Maria, you never told me that,” Mamá said.

“Because it wasn’t your problem to solve. I knew he felt the same way I did, but he had to get his head out of his ass. Only after I threatened to leave did he realize he was about to lose the best thing that ever happened to him.” Isabella doled out a mug of punch from the big bowl and handed it to her mom. “Here, Má, I think you might need this.”

“Dating Jaime was a true test of patience,” Camila said. “He didn’t have any problem saying he loved me, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to get married. That’s why it took us three years to get engaged.”

At that, Mamá tossed back her drink. “Well, you all know how stubborn Héctor is. Even after the doctor told him to watch his diet, he still kept sneaking sweets. Putting up with that old goat hasn’t been easy.”

Their show of solidarity warmed Rosie’s heart. Even though her family members had found loving partners, it was good to know their relationships weren’t perfect.

She wanted to believe she and Drew might have a chance. That they could carve out their own happy ending. But she couldn’t forget his reaction when she’d revealed her feelings. The way he’d regarded her with a mixture of shock and pity. All because she’d told him the one thing he didn’t want to hear.

Even so, she didn’t want to disappoint her family. “Thanks. I appreciate the support. But, um…before everyone gets here…” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, sending a jolt of nerves coursing through her. Her hand trembled as she pulled it out.

Could Drew be calling to express his love for her? Would she be lucky enough to experience a Christmas miracle?

When she saw the caller ID, her heart plummeted.

It wasn’t Drew. Not even close.

It was Preston.