Frosting Her Christmas Cookies - Alina Jacobs Page 0,129
him. She is in violation of the rules of The Great Christmas Bake-Off.”
Sarah tapped the tablet, and on the screen played a very graphic home porno movie of someone who was obviously Keeley and a man who looked like one of the many blond Svensson brothers getting it on.
“See?” she declared triumphantly. “Keeley is done, and Morticia is down.” She turned to me. “Jonathan, this means that you have to marry me.”
“You’re already married!” I said in horror. “Where is Trevor?”
“You’ve been carrying on with a married woman?” my father asked with a frown.
“Oh, don’t even,” I told my father with a sneer. “You come on here and act like you were father of the year, as if the last time we talked, you and Mom hadn’t just insulted me and told me what a disappointment I was. I got to where I was in spite of you. And to be honest, I didn’t do it by myself, either. I had the help of my family—my real family, namely Belle, who was more of a parent than either of you ever were.”
“You take that back!” my father roared as my mom glared at me.
“It seems,” I said, giving the hostess a toothy smile, “that I will be spending Christmas single this year. Seeing as how the sanctity of The Great Christmas Bake-Off was defiled.”
Sarah threw her arms around me. “Jonathan, what we had was true love. We need to be together. I’ll spend Christmas with you.”
I took off the microphone and handed it to the host. “I have another meeting,” I told her. I fumbled Sarah off of me then dodged as one of the security guards, whipped cream dripping down his shirt, grabbed her.
69
Morticia
“Like you’re going to stop me,” Sarah mocked. “Jonathan doesn’t even want to see you.” She turned and ran outside.
I chased her.
Trevor was waiting in front of the building in an SUV. “Take me to the Hillrock West distillery,” my cousin ordered.
I looked at Trevor incredulously. “You know she’s going over there to declare her undying love for Jonathan, right?”
“No she’s not,” Trevor said stubbornly as Sarah jumped into the passenger’s side of the car. “She’s going over there to tell him off and get closure. Then we’re going back to the nice hotel room I rented.”
“Oy vey,” Holly declared as they drove off.
“Are you just going to let them go?” Lilith asked me.
Salem howled his displeasure at being outside in the snow, which was wet!
“Hell no!” I called Jonathan to try and give him a heads-up, but he didn’t answer.
Morticia: Call me back!!! And don’t talk to Sarah!
No response.
I turned to Holly. “Can I borrow one of Owen’s cars?”
She chewed her lip. “I don’t know if I have the keys; let me text him.”
“No, I meant ‘borrow.’” I made air quotes.
Holly was horrified. “You’re going to steal his car?”
“Not steal, borrow,” I corrected, pulling out a screwdriver and a knife. “I’m sure Owen will forgive us once we save his little brother from an astronomical child-support payment.”
Holly huffed after me as I ran back into the building.
“Since when do you know how to hot-wire a car?” my friend demanded.
“Please.” I snorted. “This is just me going through life.”
My friends and I raced out of the elevator to the fastest-looking black sports car. I stuck a flat piece of metal down between the glass and the window, wiggled it, popped the lock, then sat in the seat and stuck a screwdriver in the ignition.
“Oh my god, Morticia, don’t ruin the car! Owen loves his cars!” Holly fretted.
I grabbed the wires in the steering wheel, cutting the plastic away then tapping them together until the engine roared to life.
“Lord help me, I need some cake and some wine,” Holly moaned.
I revved the engine. “Let’s go!”
“Oh no, I’m driving,” Holly insisted. “It’s a two-seater, and I’ve been stress eating all holiday season. I won’t be able to fit in the seat with one of you.” She shoved me over. Lilith and I crammed together in the passenger’s seat.
“Drive fast,” I told her as she adjusted the seat.
Holly turned on the radio. Weezer’s “O Holy Night” blasted out, the electric guitar making the car vibrate.
“Whoo!” Holly yelled. She put the car in gear and slammed on the gas, and we careened around the parking deck to the exit.
“I think I’m going to hurl,” Lilith grumbled as Holly peeled into traffic. In her lap, Salem made pukey hork hork noises.
“Hurry!” we yelled to Holly, who zipped around a semitruck.