Page 24 of The Holiday Makeover

“Your secret is safe with me.” I took another sip of cider. It didn’t exactly soothe my soul, but it sanded down a few sharp edges.

“But seriously, do you really think he deserves another chance? Because if you do, I think you need a few reminders.” She whipped out her phone.

I knew what was coming. She’d flown to Nashville right after the breakup, and we’d made a Top Ten Reasons to Hate Tate list for a moment just like this. A moment where I might want to take him back.

Did I want to take him back?

I wanted to say no. But it was a valid question. One I’d thought I had the answer to. But that was before he showed back up in my life.

And it hadn’t helped that Coco had complicated things. Like Riemann hypothesis levels of complicated.

Obviously, she thought I should take him back. And she was trying her best to make that happen. There was some serious Freaky Friday stuff going on in that house. Maybe I should burn some sage or something. What did people use in cleansing rituals? I’d do some research.

Except . . . In some ways, I wanted Coco to haunt me. Just not about Tate. His presence was scary enough all on its own.

Lily cleared her throat. “Number one: He asked Claire Simpson to prom our senior year instead of you. And even had the gall to ask you to help him make a poster for it.”

Even though that was over fourteen years ago, I still felt the sting. Sure, Tate hadn’t known how I felt about him back then—even though everyone else seemed to guess. And maybe it had been ridiculous to get my hopes up that he might ask me, even just as a friend. But, oh, I’d had dreams about it. Dreams of dancing in Tate’s arms all night long and then him realizing I was really the girl for him.

I eventually got my wish. But had it really come true? Was I ever really the girl for Tate, or was I just a placeholder on his path to the Katies and Jessicas?

“Which I declined to do.” There was no way I was making a cutesy poster that said Prom would be unBEARable without you to go along with the pretty pink bear he’d bought for the occasion.

“Yes, you did. And I was very proud of you. Number two,” she trudged on. “He uses too many abbreviations when he texts. It’s like trying to decode a cipher. Seriously, why can’t he text like a grown-up?”

“Right?” I felt just as indignant as I had two years ago when we made the list. “Like it would take two seconds longer to type out Where would you like to eat? Instead of me trying to figure out what WWYLTE means. For all I knew, it meant What was your last tasering event?”

“Have you tasered someone?” Lily asked, half impressed, half jealous, like she wanted a turn.

“Tate,” I laughed. “On accident. One of our clients was showing us her array of tasers, which, mind you, was a little creepy and probably illegal. She said the safety was on. Spoiler: It was not. Anyway, I didn’t realize when I picked one up that I’d pulled the trigger. Then Tate dropped to the floor, writhing in pain.”

“I wish I could have seen it,” Lily said wistfully.

“Tate and I eventually laughed about it once he got feeling back in his lower extremities.” I smiled inadvertently. I missed those days. And, yes, I missed him.

“Don’t have good thoughts about him,” Lily berated me.

“I’m trying not to, but we have a history. A mostly good one. Great, even. And he made me chocolate chip pancakes this morning,” I whined.

Man, were they good. Like . . . unfairly good.

Lily waved her hand in the air like she just didn’t care. “Number three,” she barked like a Marine Corps sergeant. Which was saying something, because she had the most feminine, lyrical voice ever. “He likes well-done steaks.”

“Shhh. I told you that in confidence. He’s really embarrassed about that.”

“As he should be. It’s a crime against steak. And why are you defending him?”

“I’m not. It’s just . . . I think he’s having a hard time. He said something to his mom about not having it in him to pretend his life is perfect. And you know how hard his dad can be on him.”

“Wah, wah, wah. We hate him. Remember when you made me swear I wouldn’t let you forget that? Hence, the list.” She held up her phone. “We haven’t even gotten to the most important items on it. Like how he left you. And let’s not forget all the starlets he’s been dating. I’m adding that to the list right now.”

“He says he’s not dating anyone right now.”

“And you believe him?” she asked, incredulous.

“I didn’t say that. But need I remind you, you’re the one who called him and brought him here.”

“Against my will. It was my duty as Coco’s attorney. And listen—my a-tsóo, or great-grandma to you, used to scare the life out of me with stories about our ancestors’ restless spirits exacting revenge on the living. I make it a habit not to tick off the deceased.”