The Holiday Games

Chapter 21

twenty-one

. . .

Caroline

S omething’s wrong.

When Grace, one of the junior production assistants, shows up with a camera crew to escort me to the spa, her energy is…weird. She won’t meet my gaze for more than a second or two, and when I ask if everything is okay, she exhales a semi-hysterical laugh and insists, “Oh yeah, fine. Totally fine,” in a tone that assures me everything is not “fine.”

Not fine at all…

I chew my lip as the city streets flash by outside our town car’s windows, wondering if my late return to the hotel last night was a bigger deal than I thought. But before I can ask Grace if I violated a curfew that I wasn’t aware of or something, my phone rings.

It blares, in fact, meaning it’s Kayla calling from the inn’s office phone, our emergency number. We only call each other from the office if something has gone hideously awry, and we need immediate troubleshooting assistance. And I know Kayla wouldn’t be calling while I’m out of town unless it was serious.

“Sorry, I need to take this,” I tell Grace and the two cameramen sitting in the bench seat across from us.

“Of course, no worries,” Grace says, still looking very worried indeed.

But that’s a mystery that will have to wait until later.

Right now, I have another potential crisis on the horizon.

“Hello? Kayla?” I whisper, shifting to face the window as I answer the call. “Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not,” Kayla says, her voice panicked and clogged-sounding, like she’s been crying. “I’m so sorry, C.C. I fucked up. I fucked up really, really bad.”

Instantly, every hair on my body stands at attention.

Kayla doesn’t fuck up— ever —and on the rare occasions when she makes an error, she never uses the “f” word about it. Kayla doesn’t curse. She’s the squeakiest clean human, I know.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice breaking. “So, so sorry.”

“Calm down, honey,” I say. “Whatever it is, we can fix it, I promise. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“We can’t fix it,” she bleats, her breath coming faster. “No one can fix it. I let the cat out of the bag, C.C. I let it all the way out. And now it’s running around, scratching people and tearing things apart and peeing on all of your hopes and dreams. And it’s all my fault. I’m the worst friend ever!”

As she breaks into soft sobs, I frown so hard that my forehead starts to cramp. “Please, Kay. You have to calm down and tell me what happened, or I can’t help make things better. Just take a breath and start from the beginning.”

“I spilled the beans,” she squeaks guiltily. “Harry and I ran into Vivian at the tavern last night. We were having hot toddies to celebrate our engagement when she and Frank walked in. I was already tipsy, and she was acting so smug and innocent that I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I…followed her to the restroom.”

I clutch at the neck of my sweater dress. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” Kayla says. “I followed her, and I confronted her about all the lies she told everyone. About Leo and the cat dying and everything else.”

My stomach sinks so fast it makes me dizzy. I lean in, letting my forehead rest against the cool glass. “Oh, Kayla, no. You didn’t. Please, tell me you didn’t.”

“I did,” she says, voice wobbling again. “And I told her that you and Leo were falling in love and that she’d better not interfere, or she’ll have to deal with me.”

I pinch the top of my lids as my eyes slide closed. “Oh God.”

“I know. I was a maniac,” Kayla says. “I don’t know what got into me. Well, I do. It was whiskey. I shouldn’t drink whiskey. I promise I’ll never drink it again, and I’ll never talk to anyone behind your back again, either. I feel terrible.”

I exhale a ragged sigh. “It’s okay. I’ll call Vivian later, once I’m done with filming, and run damage control.”

“You can’t,” Kayla says. “I mean, you can, but this isn’t something a phone call can fix, C.C. It’s not something that can be fixed at all , not after what Vivian told me last night.”

“What did she say?” I ask, pushing on when Kayla sobs in response and mutters something inaudible beneath her breath. “Kayla, please, you have to tell me. I only have a few minutes before I need to get off the call. We’re almost at our filming location. After that, I’ll be tied up for hours.”

“Vivian’s lies are worse than we thought,” Kayla says. “So much worse. So, so much?—”

“Just spit it out, Kay. Please!”

“Gilbert isn’t Frank’s baby,” she says in a rush. “He’s Leo’s. And if Frank finds out, Vivian’s afraid he’ll leave her, and her family will be torn apart forever.”

My jaw drops and my guts squirm like someone shoved an eggbeater into my intestines. I have to try three times before I can finally convince my lungs to wheeze out, “What?”

“Gilly is Leo’s son, but he doesn’t know, Candy. No one knows except Vivian, and now…us. I haven’t even told Harry. She made me promise not to tell anyone but you.” Kayla sniffs. “She begged me to have mercy on her, Caroline. She literally got down on her knees in the restroom and begged. She’s scared to death. She said she’d do anything, if you’d only keep her secret and…stay away from Leo. Forever.”

I try to swallow, but it’s suddenly impossible. Every organ in my body has gone hard and heavy, everything from my esophagus to my pancreas protesting the thought of saying goodbye to Leo.

Last night was one of the best nights of my life and by far the closest I’ve ever felt to a man. Leo already feels like a part of me, a part it would shatter me to lose. I honestly don’t know how I’d survive it. I’ve fallen so hard and fast that imagining a future without him is enough to bring tears springing to my eyes. I already crave his voice, his touch, the way he looks at me—like he sees me, really sees me, in a way no one else ever has—like a drug.

Leo Fenton is heroin—one dose and you’re hooked for life. I will never love someone the way I love him, not even if I live another fifty years and meet all the best and brightest men the world has to offer.

Because Leo is it for me. He’s my One.

And now I have to leave him behind…

I have to get out of here. Before I do something devastatingly stupid.

Leo absolutely deserves to know that he has a three-year-old son he’s never met, but I can’t be the one to tell him. It isn’t my place. Vivian has to do that. I have to convince her to do that…and then I have to step back and get out of the way. I have to do whatever it takes to help keep my cousin’s family together, while giving Leo the chance to find a place in his son’s life.

It’s going to be a nightmare, probably the most scandalous, awkward, upsetting, stress-inducing thing to happen to our family—hell, the entire town of Reindeer Corners!—since my great aunt Alma was caught sleeping with her twin sister’s husband not six months after Ada’s funeral. And Aunt Ada was dead! And eighty-six. And Uncle Tom and Alma swore their relationship had been above board while Ada was alive.

No, that scandal was a lab fire compared to the Chernobyl Vivian has unleashed.

The only thing that could make this worse were if Leo and I were together. My nephew is going to have a hard enough time getting used to having a surprise bonus dad pop on the scene, let alone if that new dad were also Aunt Caroline’s boyfriend. The thought of a family holiday celebration with Vivian and her husband on one side of the room, and Leo and me on the other was sufficiently stress-inducing before this secret came to light. Now it’s…impossible.

It’s impossible.

And I have to go.

“Can you pull over, please?” I murmur, reaching for my purse on the seat beside me. “Can you pull the car over? I need to get out.”

“What’s happening?” Kayla asks, her voice tight and urgent on the other end of the line. “Caroline? Are you okay? Caroline, I?—”

“I’ll call you later,” I say, ending the call and shoving my cell into my bag with shaking hands. I reach for the door handle as the car slows at the next intersection, but Grace lunges across my lap, covering my hand with hers.

“No, you can’t,” she says. “Please! We need to get to the spa and inside as quickly as possible. Before the rest of the contestants arrive.”

I turn to her with a frown. “The rest of the contestants? They’re coming to the spa, too? But I thought?—”

“The losers’ challenge is a laundry challenge. They’re going to be cleaning all the linens and towels at the spa while you’re getting treated,” Grace says in a rush. “At least that was the plan before, but Ainsley’s doing her best to find something for them to do that won’t put you all in such close contact. Not until she’s investigated the claims Jenna made this morning, anyway.”

My frown digs deeper into my already aching forehead. “What? What’s she done now? I was serious yesterday. If she continues to stalk me on the dark web, I’m hiring an attorney to deal with her.”

“She wasn’t on the dark web,” Grace says, easing back into her seat as the light changes and the car lurches forward again, moving steadily up Madison Avenue. “She found a video on social media. She swears she wasn’t looking for dirt on you this time, that she was just scrolling holiday in New York posts and…there you were.”

“And there I was doing what?” My eyes widen, my patience thinner than it would normally be. I have real problems to deal with, problems that have the potential to turn an innocent child’s life upside down. I don’t have time for Jenna’s petty nonsense.

Grace’s lips peel away from her teeth in a combination smile-wince. “There you were…under the mistletoe with the producer of the show? And he was kissing your forehead in a super romantic way?”

My stomach locks up again and the blood drains from my face. “On the ferry?”

Grace nods miserably. “Yeah. A sorority girl posted it on her feed. It doesn’t look good. Jenna’s threatening to sue for breach of contract.” She lifts her hands, fingers spread wide. “I mean, I don’t think Leo would cheat to help you win. I’ve only worked with him once, but he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy. It’s just?—”

“He isn’t,” I assure her. “And he hasn’t. We just… We tried to be friends, but from the moment we met, it was just like we were meant to be more.” I shrug and shake my head, fighting tears. “But it doesn’t matter now. It’s over. It’s all over.”

“Don’t cry,” Grace says, fumbling a tissue from her giant production assistant bag of tricks. “Oh please, don’t. Your face will get all puffy and we won’t be able to shoot for hours. Everything isn’t over! Ainsley’s a genius in a crisis. She’ll find a way to calm things down and get Jenna off your back. We just need to keep our heads down, get through today, and I’m sure things will look better tomorrow.”

“No, you don’t understand, I can’t…” I trail off, my pulse picking up as the driver slows in front of the Madison Spa and Suites, where the rest of the cast is already gathered outside, dressed in pale green scrubs under their coats and scarves.

Ainsley is there too, and appears to be trying to herd the others into a large van parked in front of us, but it’s too late.

They’ve already spotted me.

As I emerge from the car, all three of my fellow contestants turn my way. None of them look pleased, but Millie’s wounded expression hits the hardest. She looks so disappointed, so betrayed, like I’ve proven to her that girl power isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

I step forward, compelled to make things right.

But before I can speak, Jenna thrusts an accusing finger my way and shouts, “There you are, you cheating sack of shit. I knew it! People like you are all the same. You act like sugar wouldn’t melt in your mouth. Meanwhile, you’re sharpening your knife, ready to stab it into the closest back as soon as you get the chance.”

“That’s not what happened,” I say. “If you’ll just let me?—”

“Let you explain?” Jenna cuts in, still shouting loud enough that we’re starting to attract a crowd of curious onlookers. “Explain what? That you and the producer have been dating months? Years? Tell me, Goody, did you cook up this plan to put money in your own pockets together or was it all your idea?”

My chin rears back in shock. “What? No! I never?—”

“Let’s get inside,” Grace says, touching a hand to my arm. To Jenna she says, “We’re investigating the situation. I promise, we’re taking this very seriously. If there’s any sign that the competition has been compromised, we’ll?—”

“I don’t trust your investigation,” Jenna cuts in.

“Me, either,” Eduardo adds, sending another arrow sailing into my chest. “I want a neutral third party to look into this. Someone without skin in the game.”

“Please,” I say, resisting Grace’s attempts to draw me toward the spa’s door. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did Leo. Yes, we’ve developed feelings for each other, but I just met him a few days ago! And he didn’t tell me anything about the competition in advance or try to help me win in any way. I swear to you.”

“Bullshit,” Jenna seethes. “I don’t believe a word that comes out of your lying mouth.”

“Please, Millie,” I say, casting a beseeching gaze her way. “I would never do something like that. I know we don’t know each other well, but I’m not a cheater. I swear, I’m not built that way. I would never betray an enemy, let alone a friend. And I…” I suck in a quick breath, fighting to keep it together. “I consider you a friend. I really do. I hope we can still be friends when I leave the show. I’d really love that.”

“You should leave the show right now,” Jenna says before Millie can respond. “If you were actually the decent human being you pretend to be, you’d already be gone.”

“I just found out about the video and the accusations a minute ago, on the ride over,” I say, meeting her glare with one of my own. “But you’re right, Jenna. For once. I will be leaving the show. Right now.” I pull the lapel mic from the top of my coat and press it into Grace’s unwilling hand.

“Oh no,” she says, panic flaring in her blue gaze. “Please, Caroline, don’t leave. Like I said, let’s just get through the day and?—”

“I’m sorry. I have to go,” I say, backing down the sidewalk. “I’ll get my things from the hotel and be out of the city as soon as possible.”

“The hell you will,” comes a deep, devastatingly familiar voice from behind me.

I spin to see Leo, looking like he just rolled out of bed, standing not two feet away. But even with his hair sticking up all over and tired, puffy eyes, he’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

The realization that I’ll never touch him again, never feel his arms around me or his lips on mine, hits hard enough to make me wince.

A beat later, I’m running in the opposite direction, heart hammering as Leo calls out, “Wait, Caroline! For God’s sake, please wait! Caroline. Caroline, I love you!”