Holiday with You - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,27
last Monday, but you think your job is more important than mine. In any case, I’ll be home soon. In the meantime, I want to make sure you don’t screw this up.”
Jesus, when did I say my job matters more than hers? I never said such a thing. No one goes to cut a tree on Monday, though. I don’t set her straight because we can spend hours arguing, and she’s never going to be wrong. Even when she’s not right.
“There’s nothing to screw up,” I argue. “Are you familiar with the concept of one-night stands?”
“Yes,” she confirms. “You sleep with the other person, and that’s that. You don’t buy them coffee during the week, take them dinner with your daughter, or include them in a family tradition, like choosing the Christmas tree.”
“This is different,” I say. “She’s stranded in Winter Valley due to work. I’m being hospitable.”
She snorts. “Yes, let’s call you Mr. Hospitality.”
Why is everyone obsessed with Audrey? She’s beautiful, I’ll give them that. Yesterday, I wanted to kiss her badly because she’s so hot. The accidental caresses aren’t enough. There’s undeniable chemistry between us. I won’t dispute any of it, but nothing can go beyond a long-distance friendship. They should leave it alone.
“Listen to me, Colin. Just because your marriage failed doesn’t mean you should stay single forever. I’m sorry things didn’t work out with her,” she says, and we can all agree that no one in my family ever liked Remi. “Closing yourself to a relationship because you’re afraid to fail is worse than failing.”
“So according to you, I should have a long-distance relationship because that’s going to go well,” I conclude. “This woman is here temporarily, and then it’s on to the next project.”
Audrey reminds me of Remi.
When we started, we had a lot in common and seemed so perfect together. She was a hard worker with a lot of focus and ambition, and I admired that about her. It’s probably what I liked the most about her. She submerged herself into work to the point that she almost delivered our daughter in the middle of a meeting.
Remi chose not to take maternity leave. She only took a couple of weeks of personal time off to recover. Everything I had loved and respected about her was what drove us apart.
Her career was her number one love.
“You and Remi weren’t a good match. You weren’t great for each other. Your ex wasn’t in love with anyone. She had an unhealthy relationship with her job. It seemed like she had the husband and kid to check off a couple of items on the to-do list of her life plan. It was a part of her look-how-perfect-I-am project. Accomplished, loving, and gorgeous,” she continues, and I hate to admit everything she says is true. “From what Colt says, Audrey fits perfectly into your life. She might not be the right person, but how will you know if you don’t give yourself a chance? You can’t sit around and think love will stumble upon you.”
She laughs. “Or I’m wrong. Maybe it rammed into you.”
Arguing with her is pointless. “Being in the business of partying and crashing weddings doesn’t make you an expert in relationships.” And why is Colt gossiping about Audrey? Morgan, I’d expect. They’re like teenagers.
“I’m a wedding planner,” she groans, and I smirk.
It’s so easy to tease her.
“Wedding planner, crasher, it’s all the same. You help people have their dream party, and if you’re smart, after a couple of years, you can help them with their divorce celebration,” I joke, knowing she’s frustrated. “Where’s your perfect match, Clarissa? I don’t see you putting yourself out there either.”
There’s a long silence. “Just because you don’t see me dating doesn’t mean I’m not doing it. That’s the advantage of living in the city. It might not be as big as New York or LA, but I have privacy.”
Not having everyone knowing her business is refreshing until she finds herself alone in a place where no one will care if she lives or dies. I have experienced the joy of not having nosy neighbors. I also missed a lot because I was gone from home.
“Not to sound cynical, but ten percent of those engagement parties you organize won’t make it to their destination. Fifty percent of the weddings will end in divorce,” I inform her. “If you don’t mind, I have to get ready to pick up our parents from the airport. Why don’t you pester someone else?”
“Be that way,