Page 26 of The Christmas Mistake

While we’re entering the parking lot before we get back into our separate cars, I turn to Nicholas to ask him a nice question.

Well, if we’re going to be working together so closely, I might as well try to be nice. For once.

“I was thinking whether we should just drive to the mall together in the same car, what do you think?” I ask the man.

He doesn’t register my question at all. He doesn’t even look at me. Instead, he rudely brushes past my shoulder and heads directly to his car.

I guess he’s still sticking to his trademark dickface behavior.

“I guess that’s a no, then?” I call out after him. “No answer at all? Not even a it’s fine, Chastity, I’d prefer to go separately? Gosh, you’re such a jerk.”

I watch him, arms crossed, as he opens his driver’s door.

And then he turns to me.

“Answer your phone, Chastity.”

That’s all he says to me before he’s in his car and turning the ignition.

“Answer my phone?” I reply mockingly in a deep voice that I reckon is a spot-on impression of the man, but I know Nicholas can’t hear a single bitter word I say with his door shut. “Don’t tell me what to do, you big oaf. You really are such a jerk.”

How flipping dare he.

I proceed to stomp angrily towards my car as Nicholas speeds past me.

I follow him out of the parking lot.

And then, as we spin towards the direction of downtown, he calls me.

My phone’s ringtone – I’ve just changed it to Mariah Carey’s biggest hit because it’s Christmas and I’m cheesy like that – blares through the inside of my car. I make a face at the little vibrating device as I turn my steering wheel to stay behind Nicholas’ car.

“Answer your phone,” I mumble as my phone rings out. “Answer your phone, Chastity. Who does he even think he is to say something like that to me? He’s not my boss. Heck, he’s not even my boyfriend. I don’t have to take orders from him. I’m not gonna listen to him.”

The phone finally falls silent – unanswered - and I feel proud of how I was able to resist the urge to pick up. It’s as if I’m victorious in a mighty battle between Nicholas and me. Look at me not answering the phone or taking commands from the dick! I bet he’s seething behind the wheel right now at my willingness not to engage in his childish games. I wish I could see his annoying handsome face as he realizes how truly strong my backbone is.

And then my phone rings again.

This time I quickly reach down and silence it myself.

“Not having that,” I say out loud as if Nicholas can hear me. “I’m not answering, asshole. Don’t even try it.”

And then the phone rings again.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

He’s never going to stop, is he?

Nicholas is going to keep ringing until I answer. The man is so effing insistent.

Oh, it’s so tempting to hear his voice, and I absolutely hate not picking up my phone when it’s ringing.

I give in.

I know. I’m terrible. I’m a bad feminist. I let a man boss me around.

But the phone is so alluring.

And I do secretly want to hear his voice, however annoying it may be.