The Construction of Cheer - Liz Isaacson Page 0,116

sandwich in his mouth, already looking at the plate for the next thing to soothe his bruised ego. His heart had already been cracked by this woman, and he felt it starting to flake off piece by piece.

“She specializes in desserts, I’ve heard,” the mayor continued, chuckling. “And she comes with the greatest endorsement of all—that of long-time chairperson and founder of the Christmas Festival, Ruth Deerfield. Ruth?”

“This part is stupid,” Ace said. “She drones on and on about the festival, as if we don’t know what it is, and then says Holly Ann is literally the only person she trusts the festival to.”

“So I can skip ahead?”

“Yeah.”

Bishop did that while Ace loaded a ridged potato chip with his mother’s famous frog eye salad. The salty chip only added to the cool salad, which also had a fruity tang to it.

“Oh, she’s on now.” Bishop sat back down. “She looks good, Ace.”

“She always looks good,” Ace said. That was true. Holly Ann knew how to put on the exact right shade of eye shadow to convey a message. She never wore too much lipstick, and her eyelashes always looked a mile long.

Her nearly black hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and Ace knew exactly what it felt like between his fingers as he kissed her. He shoved another potato chip in his mouth so he wouldn’t grind his teeth together.

She wore professional clothes tonight, almost like she’d known—she’d known—she’d get selected as chairperson. He scoffed but ignored Bishop’s curious look.

“Hello, Three Rivers,” she said, her voice bright. It wasn’t the same one she used when she was alone with Ace. When she wanted him to kiss her, she spoke in a low, throaty tone that made his blood burn like fire. When she was excited to see him, her voice pitched up as she laughed and squealed.

This was such a fake, fake voice, and Ace hated it. He kept his head ducked as he shook it, hating the sound of her presentation voice.

“Who’s ready for an amazing holiday season?” he asked with her, waving his fork as the crowd cheered.

“Wow, you’re really bitter,” Bishop said.

“Yes,” Ace said, deciding to own the feeling. “Read this.” He used his fork to push his phone closer to Bishop.

His cousin picked it up, and it didn’t take long to read Holly Ann’s few texts. The one where she said she’d been appointed as the chairperson.

The one that said she wouldn’t make it for dinner and the angel tree decorating.

The last one where she’d said she was so, so sorry, but she’d be so busy for the next few months, and maybe they should take a break.

“Take a break?” Bishop asked. “Why?”

“Did you read my mind?” Ace asked.

“You didn’t ask her.”

“I don’t need to ask her,” Ace said. “She gave me this exact same excuse when she started Three Cakes. It’s like, she’s…I don’t know. She can’t walk and chew gum at the same time. She can’t have a boyfriend and do anything else, it seems.”

“That’s just ridiculous,” Bishop said.

“You’re telling me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Eat another brisket sandwich,” he said, looking over the lid of the laptop. “What can I do?”

Bishop closed the laptop, and he hadn’t even gotten to the part where she laughed like a hyena about the addition of a children’s bike parade this year. A fake hyena.

“You like this woman, right?”

“Of course I like this woman.” Ace glared at Bishop. “She’s dominated my life for almost a year now. Even when I want to walk away, I can’t. She’s….” He shook his head. For him, Holly Ann was who he wanted. When they were together, she sure did act like he was who she wanted.

She’d said those words right out loud. To his face.

Then she sent texts about “taking a break.”

“You don’t need to explain,” Bishop said quietly. “I understand.” He took a long, deep breath. “Here’s what I think, and it’s going to go against what we always do.”

“Honestly, what I always do isn’t working for me,” Ace said.

“You stop stuffing your face,” Bishop said. “You go brush your teeth real good. Get your hair all fixed up under that cowboy hat. Make sure your clothes are clean.”

“I was going to see her at dinner,” Ace said. “I’m ready.” Maybe he should brush his teeth, though.

“You know where she lives. You know she’s still dealing with press or City Council members. You go wait in her driveway, and when she gets home, there you are. You