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I found an empty parking spot in the quaint grocery market near the parade route. As soon as I turned off the car, I eagerly turned toward Jules.
“So …” She squinted. “It’s about to get cringey.”
“Are you talking like sex tape cringe?”
“No,” she laughed. “But get ready for the spandex.” Jules tapped her phone and held it up before I could say anything else.
Before my eyes was a lot of Skippy, and I wasn’t talking about the peanut butter.
I could see the resemblance between the man’s face in the photo I’d given Jules and the guy on the screen, but there was a lot more to him than I would have ever imagined.
“Are you ready for another workout with Get Ripped with Skip?” he shouted in an Australian accent while jumping up and down, only wearing bright-orange spandex shorts. His glistening tan body suggested he used a bronzing lotion, camouflaging his skin to his shorts. His flippy, sandy-blond hair gave me surfer boy vibes. He appeared to be in a room in his house that sported a wall of mirrors and a few houseplants.
My eyes widened as I watched the buff man march to warm up his bulging muscles, all while spouting off how he could get anyone ripped in just a few months’ time. If he wasn’t doing some type of steroids, it would surprise me.
I tilted my head, trying to understand what my sister saw in this guy. He was nothing like Jonathon, who, for all his faults, was classy and stylish. Skippy was more like a caricature. How my sister even came across him was beyond me. The clip Jules showed me was a reel from Instagram. It appeared he had about two thousand followers on the platform, but very few views of that reel.
“Uh.” I wasn’t sure what to even say other than I wished I could unsee the video.
Jules lowered her phone. “Yeah. I know. The weird part is—”
“There is something weirder than what you just showed me?”
She flashed me a knowing smile. “Well, the thing is, I can’t find out much about him other than his supposed last name is Kelly.”
“What do you mean supposed?”
“The guy is a mystery. I can’t find where he lives or anything beyond his videos on social media.”
“He must live in Australia, right?” I surmised.
Jules shook her head. “I don’t think so. Most social media companies now require a declaration of which country you’re based in. He’s definitely in the US.”
“So, he must be a native of Australia, then.”
Jules shrugged. “I can’t say. But I’ll keep digging,” she promised.
I playfully nudged her. “And how will you do that?”
“Not using government software,” she said with a grin.
“If you say so.” I didn’t believe it for a second.
She held up her hand. “I swear.”
“Okay,” I laughed, still not buying it. “Can I at least pay you for your time?”
She waved her hand around. “No. This is fun for me.”
“If you’re sure. I feel bad asking you to help me under the circumstances. But I really need to find out what’s going on with my sister and good ole Skippy.”
“Please don’t feel bad. I’m good at this, and I promise we will solve the mystery of Skip.”
“Hopefully before my sister does anything dumb—or dumber.” I let out a huge breath, knowing I was about to enter my stupidity zone. Meaning I would come face-to-face with Tristan. I had to. I’d made a promise to Quinn to give her the best Christmas ever, and for her, that included the uncle.
Jules patted my leg, knowing what all the sighing was about. I’d given her the skinny. Honestly, I’d talked way too much about it the last few days. Why couldn’t I just let it go? Him go? We’d been over for thirteen years. But is it really over if you’re both still in love with the other person? I didn’t want to know the answer.
“We should get out there so we don’t miss the good candy.” I faked some enthusiasm.
