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“Nick.” Her voice was low.
“What?” I fiddled with the radio station, searching for a traffic update before settling on the Top 40 station.
“What do you mean—about that?”
“It’s nothing, really. No big deal.”
“Uh-huh. You’re playing the player here, buddy. I’m a PR professional; it’s my job to know when people are lying and you’re full of shit. Spill. Now.”
I drummed on the steering wheel, nerves slamming around in my gut, my palms sweaty. “It’s just, my mom—the whole family, really—might be under the impression we’re still together.”
“What?” Sydney’s voice rose an octave and a half and my eardrums felt it. “How? Why?”
“She liked you so much, I didn’t have the heart to tell her we broke up.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or pissed off.” She slumped back in her seat, her empty hand fidgeting with a button on her coat.
“I’d go with flattered. Start the week on a positive note.” I grinned over at her and she chucked me lightly in the arm.
“Hey, what did I tell you about these biceps?”
“Funny, Milton, real funny. I can’t believe you never told your family we broke up.” She shook her head at me, her dark ponytail swishing against the leather seat.
“Why? So I could listen to my mom’s lecture on settling down soon so she can finally have grandbabies? No, thank you. I was out in Arizona, they were here—why rock the boat? I dodged the topic once or twice, but mostly it was all good. Then when I got traded back and Christmas came up, they were all about you coming with me.”
“When you’re done with football, you should move into negotiations for the league. You just ran the fastest con job on me ever.”
“Good, right?” I smiled slyly at her.
“No. Not good. Because eventually you’re going to have to confess to your family we broke up. I agreed to go home with you, not participate in an elaborate dating ruse. There’s a difference you know.” She chewed the edge of her nail, a nervous habit she’d been trying to break since I’d known her.
“C’mon, Syd. Just for the holidays. One week. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I really don’t like this, Nick.”
“I know, I’m sorry. And I should’ve been straight with you yesterday. But I really need this, Syd. Please? I don’t want to crush my mom’s dreams at Christmas.” I stole a quick glance, locking my eyes with hers.
“Fine. For your mom. But you have one week, Nick. Then you have to tell them we broke up. Because we obviously can’t keep this up.”
My heart constricted at her words; the break-up had been her idea all along and was never part of my plan. To be honest, Sydney Porter was the best damn thing that’d ever happened to me outside of football and I wasn’t keen on giving up on us so easily.
But if that’s the game we were playing, fine. It was on. I had one week to convince Sydney to take a chance on us, HR regulations be damned. It might be tough, but I was up for the Christmas Challenge.
