“Mmm. Peppermint mocha in bed on Christmas morning. Is it too soon to declare this the best Christmasever?” She sits up, wrapping her hands around the mug and drinking deeply.
I laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as hollow to her as it does to me. “Alyssa and Kennedy are still asleep.”
“Good. The three of us were up way too late last night.” She sets her mug on the nightstand so she can pull the covers up to her chin. “We had lots to catch up on.”
“Are they excited for your deal?”
A shadow darkens the golden brown of her eyes. “Of course.”
There’s a lot more there that she’s not saying, but I figure she doesn’t want to spill her friends’ secrets, so I don’t push for more details.
We cuddle in bed until we hear the girls stirring in the living room. Kennedy makes us breakfast, and after a walk around the neighborhood, we spend the afternoon watching Christmas movies and drinking hot chocolate. The whole thing would be idyllic if it weren’t for the life-changing question I’m planning on asking later and the sudden bout of indecision I’ve been plagued with.
Jess decided a couple of days ago that she wanted to make a full Christmas dinner, and so early in the afternoon, she and Alyssa head into the kitchen. Kennedy is on deadline and takes the time to get some words in.
I use this brief respite to hide out in the bedroom and reread the latest string of emails from my agent.
I was lucky to have my pick of agents when I was querying, and Stacy is the best. She’s ruthless and cutthroat, and always gives me a straight answer. Acouple of days ago, I explained the whole situation, how I’m worried my success is going to get in the way of Jess’s chance, how I don’t want to be the one to take anything away from her. How much I would hate it if anyone were to suggest the only reason she got published was because of her connections to me.
And yeah, I threw in the part about me and my marketability too, just at the end, so she knows that’s not my main concern.
Her reply didn’t mince words, much as I expected. She confirmed Marcus’s observation, that being single could help me sell a ton more books, maybe even make me a household name. She didn’t seem as concerned with the wholeme overshadowing Jessbit, probably because Jess isn’t her client so it doesn’t affect her much.
My eyes keep drifting back to the phrase “household name.” It’s honestly not something I ever really thought to want. How many writers end up being household names?
But Stacy thinks the potential is there for me, that I could be one of those select few.
My phone buzzes with a text, and I swipe out of my email.
Mom:Merry Christmas, sweetheart! Hope you’re having a great day and taking some time to enjoy the spoils of your success!
The message brings a smile to my face, even though I know it probably shouldn’t. Where was this support three years ago when I really needed it? I’m pretty sure I didn’t even get a text last Christmas.
Dad:Merry Christmas, son. Proud of you.
And yeah, Mom likely told him to send the message, but he sent it.
I toss my phone aside and cross the room to the dresser. The ring has been hidden in my underwear drawer for weeks, and when I take it out, the roiling in my stomach feels a lot more like dread than it does excitement.
I shove it back into the deepest corner of the drawer. Marrying Jess is the right thing. It has to be.
After attempting to read for a bit, even though my brain can’t focus on any of the words, I head toward the kitchen to see if I can offer assistance. Our kitchen isn’t big enough for more than two people, but I know I should at least offer to help.
I hold back in the hallway when I hear my name.
“Nick isn’t the kind of guy who’s going to let success go to his head.” Alyssa’s defense of my character is reassuring, even though I don’t know where the need for it came from.
“I know that.” Jess.
Has she been thinking the same kind of things I have been?
“I’m so happy for him, guys, truly,” she continues. “I know how hard he has worked for this moment, and he’s so talented, and so deserving.”
“But?” Kennedy pushes her to finish the thought, and I’m grateful she does, knowing I need to hear it.
“But it’s been really hard these past couple of weeks. Seeing every major publisher fight over his book. Seeingthe kinds of things they’re promising him, the amount of money they’re willing to throw at him. They designed a whole marketing plan already, even before he signed his contract, basically promised him he’ll be a bestseller. And he deserves it all, truly.”
“We know that as well as you do. And having these kinds of thoughts doesn’t make you a bad or unsupportive girlfriend,” Alyssa says.
