Page 19 of Santa Baby

“Don’t get her started,” Dad warned, but Mom sat down beside him, patting him on the hand.

“It’s vegetarian,” she said happily.

Colin and I stared at her, going perfectly still.

“There’s no meat in the ziti?” Colin looked horrified, and Dad rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath.

“Blame your father and the daily hotdog he’s been eating for lunch for the past forty years. He’s on a diet, doctor’s orders.”

Colin and I looked at Dad for further explanation but he continued grumbling to himself as Mom served him a small serving of the pasta and then piled his plate with salad.

Colin leaned in, his face going slack with what I knew was fake concern. “You dyin’, Dad?”

Dad smacked him upside the head like he deserved. I giggled around my glass of water as my family started bickering playfully, with my mom raising her hands in the air and Colin continuing to goad Dad about his new diet.

“It’s you all that are raising my blood pressure,” Dad said, pointing his fork at me and Colin. “All your life. Your mother, too.”

Colin and I looked at Mom, waiting for whatever sharp comeback she had coming in Dad’s direction, but she flipped her wrist and rolled her eyes, cursing at him in Italian before serving him more salad, even though he hadn’t touched what was already on his plate.

I loved this. I came here at least once a week for family dinner. Colin usually made it if he wasn’t working late, but sometimes it was just me and my parents. The house, unchanged since my childhood, was always warm and welcoming despite the level of noise coming from the kitchen table on any given day. That was just my family—loud and loving.

“Why are you ganging up on me?” Colin said around a mouthful of ziti. “What did I do?”

“Dragging Fia to your parties, that’s what,” Dad replied, pointing an accusatory finger at Colin. “Not my Fia, okay?”

“Not your Fia, what?” Colin rolled his eyes. “You were just telling me about how you wanted Fia to get out of her apartment and start her business again⁠—”

“Hey,” I cut in, glaring at them both. “I’m right here.”

Mom gave me an apologetic smile as they ignored me completely.

Dad kept going. “I wanted you to make sure Fia wasn’t sulking anymore over that dickhead Jake guy, whatever his name was.”

“Dad!” I gaped at Dad and Colin.

“Jake is old news, Pops. You should be hounding Fia about her new boyfriend⁠—”

I kicked Colin under the table. He jerked, his head whipping in my direction. I met his eyes, silently pleading with him to shut up. Wasn’t this supposed to be a secret? It was Colin’s damn idea in the first place. Plus, this was just a ruse. Why would he risk getting our freaking parents involved?

“You have a boyfriend?” Mom practically squealed. “I knew it. I was just telling your aunt that you had to be dating someone. You weren’t even upset that we went upstate for Thanksgiving, and I knew—I knew—you had to be spending it with someone special instead.”

“He’s special all right,” Colin murmured, stepping on my toes to stop me from kicking him a second time. “You guys remember Mason O’Leary, right?”

“Mason?” Mom smiled, looking so relieved I thought she might cry, which made all of this so much worse. “Of course, we know Mason. Such a sweet boy.”

“Your boss?” Dad said, his dark eyes scanning Colin’s face. “You got your baby sister dating your boss?”

“Mason’s my best friend, Dad. I set them up. I only want the best for Fia, you know? So, get off my back, okay? She’s going with him to all the events he has to go to this season and I’ll be at a few of them too to make sure they aren’t getting ahead of themselves.” The look he shot in my direction cut me to the core. “Mason is so excited to introduce Fia to his contacts.”

“So, you are getting back into event planning?” Mom’s voice cut over the fray.

I turned pleading eyes to her. “I never said⁠—”

“It’s about damn time, too.” Dad nodded, his voice low and gruff. “I should have had my guys teach Jake a lesson after what he did to you, thinking he could kick you to the curb after you built his business from the ground up.”

“I broke up with him, remember? And that was—it was catering, not event planning.” I took another bite of my food because I had a feeling it was going to get worse, and regardless of how I felt right then, I wasn’t leaving my mom’s table hungry. I swallowed hard and saw that finally, everyone was looking at me and not talking, for once. “Look, I’m happy just being a photographer. I like what I do. Having my own event planning business was just a pipe dream, okay? I’d be one of a million trying to find my footing in the city.”

Mom, thankfully, heard the edge in my voice and softly cleared her throat, diverting the conversation away from my future, my dream career, and the sinking sensation I felt on every birthday as my life started to slip through my fingers.