Page 46 of Terms and Traditions

If I wasn’t already convinced this was the weirdest Christmas I’d ever experienced, the Addams Christmas Eve schedule confirmed it. After the buffet-style breakfast and snowball war, which the guys’ team won thanks to the snowball seduction technique—stuff of legends, that—we had a pocket of downtime before the official festivities started at three o’clock.

And by official, I mean more food than an entire team of hockey players could eat and an ugly sweater contest.

I tugged the sweater over my head and checked the small mirror hanging on my bedroom wall. It was terrible. Hideous really. And I couldn’t wait to see Stephanie’s reaction. A light tap came at the door, and I did one final check before facing my hopefully-more-than-fake girlfriend. This level of ugliness might be a deal-breaker.

I swung the door open with a flourish, leaning my forearm against the frame and smirking.

Stephanie’s mouth puckered into a perfect O as she took my sweater in. It might have stoked my ego if I thought she was checking me out, but no. This was a look of horrific revulsion. Unease skittered through my veins. Had I gone too far? I had bowed to the decisions of five kids under the age of twelve when it came to fashion design after all.

I mean, that might not have been my smartest decision. But were dozens of Elf on the Shelfs duct-taped to a scratchy red-and-green knit pullover with tinsel and fairy lights hot-glued onto it to complete the ensemble beyond the scope of this game? I thought the kids were onto something.

Stephanie shoved me back through the half-open door and shut it. Leaning against it, she covered her mouth, shoulders shaking.

“Steph?” The suspense was worse than the loose thread tickling my neck.

She snorted. Actually snorted, and then the laughter rang out in peals as she tried to muffle it with her hand.

Okay, maybe I was on the right track after all then.

“What… What did you do? And what do you have against tinsel?” Stephanie gasped for air, holding her sides. “Are those… elves?!” The last word came out with a wheeze.

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling a bit sheepish. “I may have enlisted the help of the guys’ small fry for this.”

Her eyes softened, and the laughter faded into a quiet echo around my room. “You’re really involved with them.”

I shrugged. “They’re family.”

Stephanie smiled knowingly. I’d never been super vocal about my past family relationship—it was hard to bring it up to people who didn’t care about me beyond my success in business. Every interview focused on my business successes, and I never answered questions about my personal life. But if I told her… something told me she’d see down to the real me.

“I wouldn’t judge you, you know,” she said softly. “Whatever it is, you’re clearly avoiding telling me about your family.” She shifted nervously, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. “Look around.” She gestured absently. “I know a thing or two about complicated, okay?”

I cleared my throat and glanced at her sweater, which wasn’t all that ugly beyond belonging to a hideous designer in the ‘90s. She made it look much better than it would alone. “Thanks. I know you wouldn’t, I just…”

The assortment of half a dozen ties hanging over the footboard of my bed caught my attention, and I grabbed at the subject change. “Oh, while you’re here, which one matches your dress for tomorrow night?”

Stephanie followed my motioning to the bed, and her eyes widened. “You brought all these ties?” she asked, running a finger lightly over each.

“Well, you weren’t exactly forthcoming with the shade of red, so…”

She held a burgundy tie with white Swiss polka dots to my chest and tilted her head. “This one.”

I swallowed hard and took it from her. Realizing we were standing a little too close in my bedroom, I cleared my throat. “Great. Shall we?” I motioned to the door.

She fished her phone out of her jeans pocket. “Selfie first. This moment needs to live in infamy.”

“You just want to send it to the guys,” I grumbled.

Stephanie laughed. “Tempting, but no. This is for us.” She nestled into my side as my arm draped over her shoulders. With the height difference, she didn’t quite hit my collarbone. Handing me the phone, she added, “Your arms are longer. Wait, move to the left, the lighting’s better.”

That was the photographer in her speaking, I was certain, making me even happier that my express shipped package had arrived this morning and was currently hiding under my bed. I chuckled and snapped a few shots, being sure to capture our sweaters. Loving her bright smile and dancing eyes. The way she fit perfectly against me.

She took her phone back and snapped another picture of me with a laugh. “I’m sorry. It’s too terrible.”

“Send them to me at least.” I rolled my eyes as we slipped into the hallway. “Think I have any hope of beating your nana?”

She snorted again. “With that getup, you better.”

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” I asked in mock horror. “Steph, I’m crushed.”