Holly Garland on Santa's Lap [COMPLETE]

Chapter 26 ~An unexpected revelation~

Mr. Paxton takes me to the reception area via an elevator.

An elevator.

In his house.

Like it's a freaking hotel!

Yep, ladies and gentlemen, gone with the wind are the days when you could expect a grand Scarlett O'Hara-style staircase in mansions like this.

Anyway, we arrive in a stunning, expansive veranda. Crystal chandeliers hang from an oblong dome, and the massive glass walls offer a panoramic 180-degree view of the Hudson River, as well as a sprawling terrace and a beautifully lit garden.

A bunch of people are already mingling, and more are arriving. Mr. Paxton leads me to a group that includes Tony and Nick.

The moment I let go of his father's arm, Nick slides a possessive hand onto the small of my back. A shiver runs up my spine, and it only gets worse when he starts moving his hand in slow strokes up and down.

"Are you okay, Ginger?" he whispers in my ear, sounding a little worried.

His warm breath against my neck sends a ripple of heat through me.

What's wrong with me?

Now is not the time to get all flustered.

I assure him I'm fine and lean in to whisper back.

"Ah, Nicholas, huh? Like... Saint Nicholas? That's cute!" I giggle.

Apparently, he was born for the role. And hey, looks like he's part of the nickname club too.

He smirks and shrugs, then starts introducing me to a few people. First, there's Autumn Partridge, the fiancée of his friend Nathan Reed—who's there too—then a longtime couple, Colin and Jodie Sawyer, and several others whose names I can't seem to retain.

I know I'm supposed to dazzle everyone and channel my inner Hollywood starlet, like Nick told me in the car, but it's just not in me right now. I feel like a freshwater fish dumped into a saltwater tank. And given what just went down with Mr. Paxton Sr. earlier, it's probably best if I just stay quiet and focus on not causing any disasters.

So far, everything's going relatively smoothly, but let's not forget my Christmas curse is still in full swing...

And, naturally, the second I think, Don't jinx it, Holly, my luck takes a nosedive.

If I'd been holding a glass of wine, it'd have turned to vinegar. If it were milk, it'd have curdled into yogurt. Nothing ever goes normally or smoothly in my world—especially not during the holidays.

"Miss Garland!" Nick's father calls out from a few feet away. "Let me introduce you to Melinda Powell. She's a fashion columnist for a Los Angeles magazine."

He approaches our group, a blonde bombshell on his arm. And surprise, surprise—it's Malibu Barbie herself. She's wearing a shimmering gold dress with flashy jewelry.

Meet your Hollywood starlet, folks. And yeah, she's winning the Oscar for this role.

Forget subtlety; that's for peasants. Clearly, Melinda Powell, aka Mindy—aka Nick's ex-girlfriend—sees herself as some ancient goddess.

I can't believe she gets a nickname too! What does she have that I don't?

Well, aside from her triple-D bust, endless legs, golden hair, and... Ugh, why am I even thinking about this?

The Greek goddess incarnate pouts, clearly annoyed by my existence.

"Ugh, Dan!" she groans, rolling her eyes. "Thanks, but I've already met Nick's new girlfriend."