Each morning I wake up, determined to make today a better day than yesterday. It’s not that all my days are bad, but the holidays seem to increase my stress level. It’s hard, when every day I worry about my financial situation, but add the pressure of being Santa, and the strain goes through the roof, especially when I know that what little savings I have could be used elsewhere.

As much as I’d like to tell Holly about Santa, I can’t. She’s already lost so much in her young life, destroying what little magic she believes in would devastate her. But being at the mall, and seeing all these other people with their arms full of bags really does something to one’s psyche. Nothing like driving home the stake in the middle of my chest, pointing out that I can’t afford the best new toys on the market.

Each store I step into, my blood pressure rises. Even the sale prices seem to be over the top, but I’m not left with many choices. Santa has to have something under the tree for Holly, and it can’t be coal because that’s what he’s leaving for me.

I’m overwhelmed by the sheer amount of “must haves” and “every kid’s dream” displays. They’re enough to drive me out of the store and back into the masses of holiday shoppers. I stop and look into the windows of each store, hoping that something will jump out and scream at me, telling me Holly needs whatever it may be. But nothing does.

What does catch my attention is the group of people who all have their cell phones raised in the air. That right there is enough to heighten my senses that something is going on that shouldn’t be. I look around for security, shocked to find no one. I can’t, in good conscience, walk away.

A group of onlookers is one thing, but when you have a cluster of people together, speaking loudly with their cell phones out, it usually signals trouble. “Hey, what’s going on here?” I ask as I push my way through the crowd while telling them to step away. These people though, they’re persistent and push back, determined to get to whatever or whoever they’re surrounding. “Back up. There’s nothing to see here. Get moving.”

Except, there’s everything to see. Laney is cowering in the corner, pressed against the wall with nothing but fear in her eyes. My instinct is to pull her into my arms, to shelter her from these women, but she’s used to this, right? Maybe not this aggressively, but surely she’s accustomed to people acting in this fashion.

“Laney,” I say her name softly. I don’t know if it’s because I’m shocked to find her like this or because she’s simply one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known. It took me a long time after she left to realize what I let slip through my fingers. Her brother was and still is my best friend, and I don’t think he took too kindly to us dating. Dominic never came out and said as much, but the side comments were there.

She broke up with me. Even though we had only dated for a few months, I was heartbroken. It wasn’t long after Laney moved to Los Angeles that I met Heather. Our first date was one of Laney’s movies. That’s when it hit me. I would never be her leading man.

Without turning around, I hold my badge up while my eyes are trained on Delaney’s. “All right folks, get moving.” I finally turn around and use my free arm to shield her, and when she uses my back to hide, wrapping her arms around my waist, I feel this crazy surge of energy.

Once everyone has dissipated, I tap her hand to let her know it’s safe to come out from behind me. When I turn around I see a look of panic in her eyes and I hate it. I hate that someone put her in this situation, despite her profession. My hands clench at my sides as my temper starts to flare. I want to shake those people, demand they give her an apology, but it would likely fall on deaf ears.

She thanks me, and I swallow hard at the way my name falls from her lips. My memory bank fails me. I can’t recall a time when she’s ever said “Aiden”, always choosing to use the nickname she gave me so many years ago. Laney’s hand brushes along my cheek. Her touch is soft against my rough stubble. I’m tempted to grasp her wrist so I can hold her hand there, but I don’t want to scare her. I haven’t been touched like this in years, not since Heather, and I’m not sure how I should feel or if I’m thinking too much of the gesture. It’s simple, loving, and shouldn’t mean anything to me.

“I’m glad I was here to help.” My words feel jumbled and incoherent, but she smiles so I must’ve made some sort of sense. She steps back and isn’t shy about the way she’s looking at me. I feel the heat rise to my cheeks as I stand there under her microscope. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working?” she asks.

“I’m supposed to be shopping for Holly, but as you can see, I haven’t been doing very well.”

Delaney smiles. But it’s different from others. It seems mischievous and I have a feeling I’m about to regret being in this mall.

“Tell you what. Since you helped me, I’ll help you shop.”

I hate shopping, and I’d be a fool to pass this up. I nod frantically, feeling like a dog begging for a treat.

“But… first we have lunch because I’m starving.” She doesn’t wait for my response before linking arms with me. We only get a few steps away before she removes her arm. I get it. I’m not the type of guy she’s usually attached to and probably doesn’t want to have to explain what she was doing with a country bumpkin. I try not to let any of this bother me. She’s a big time Hollywood actress. I’m nobody, but a guy she dated a long time ago.

As soon as we enter one of the staple restaurants at the mall, the hostess’s eyes all but bug out of their sockets. Believe me, I feel the same way. I smile and pretend this is an everyday occurrence for me, hanging out with Delaney Du Luca.

“Only two, and someplace with a bit of privacy and away from the windows, please,” Laney tells the star-struck hostess.

“Will this work, Miss Du Luca?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I sit across from her, but for a moment I think about sitting on the same side to offer her a bit of shelter from the other patrons, but as I look around, it’ll be no use. People are already recognizing her.

The prices on the menu make my stomach flip. Anything extra goes right to the pile of medical bills. Eating out is a frivolous expense I rarely partake in. I settle on the cheapest item and close the menu.

“Did you find something?”

“Yes, I’m going to get the chip appetizer.”

Laney opens her menu back up and looks until she lands on my selection. There’s a noticeable tick in her jaw, which means she’s about to unleash one of her famous tantrums. Back in high school, we all knew when she was about to explode. Her jaw tightens, her eyes wander and her lips do this thing that can only be described as pursing and smashing together. I know I’m in for it now.

“Have you had lunch?” she asks, almost as if I’m ten years old.

I shake my head.

“So why the chips?”

“I just—”

“It’s on me, okay. You rescued me and this is the way I can repay you, so you order what you want and be prepared for me to pick off your plate.”

I smile and lean forward. My hands are under the table and I don’t know what possesses me to do this, but my fingers brush against her knees. Laney doesn’t move, so I continue to do it, wondering if she’s still ticklish there. “Let me get this straight. Little Miss Hollywood still picks food off others’ plates?”

She closes the distance between us. “First, don’t call me that ridiculous nickname. Second, only the plates of people I like. Third, you know I’ll order a salad and hate it so you best order a monster cheeseburger with bacon and fries so I have something to eat. I may have been gone for ten years, but I haven’t changed.” Her rant is adorable, if not a little child-like. Yet, I like it. She’s like a breath of fresh air that I desperately need.

“That much.”

Her mouth drops open, and she leans back against the booth. “What do you mean?”

I shrug, wishing I could get up and go sit next to her, but I can’t. “I see the magazines every now and again, listen to what Dom says.”

“I haven’t changed, except for the fact that living in the land of sun is the most amazing feeling ever. Although, I never thought I missed the snow until I was standing in the dining room the other day and saw a deer cross my parents’ backyard. I don’t know, there’s something about fresh snow…”

“It’s magical.”

“Yeah, it is.” She doesn’t say anything else as our waiter appears. I appease her by ordering what she wants, but add onion rings as well. Deep down, Laney is a food junkie and I imagine having to look a certain way in front of the cameras might take its toll. If I can make her smile, I’m going to do it.

“So tell me what your daughter likes.”

“You,” I tell her unabashedly.

“Excuse me?”

I chuckle and take one of my hands out from underneath the table so I can fidget with the napkin. My other though, it’s still under the table, my fingers still brushing against her knee every chance I get. “My daughter is obsessed with you. She yelled at me after she heard I pulled you over. It’s as if I ruined her life. Funny thing is, I had no idea she even knew who you were until the other day, but she hasn’t stopped talking about you since.”

“Well, I’ll have to make sure you look like a hero to her then, won’t I?”

I’m at a loss for words, which seems to be okay since our food has arrived. Honestly, I’m thankful for the quick service. Eating gives my mouth something to do other than try to say things I shouldn’t, like telling her she’s beautiful, that everyone in Ramona Falls loves her, that my wife was a big fan and used to ask me questions as her death neared, and whether I ever thought about Delaney. Truth is, I hadn’t. She was so far from my mind and just a part of my history.

No sooner than the waiter puts our plates down, is her hand reaching across the table. I laugh, relishing in the fact that some things never change. It feels good to be out like this, with her. To be able to let go some of the stress I’m feeling and possibly enjoy shopping, knowing she’s going to be by my side later.

“This is so good,” she says as she takes a bite of the onion ring. “Like, I haven’t had one of these in years.”

“Why not?”

“Because everyone is always watching. They’re waiting for people like me to screw up so they can capitalize on it.”

I pick up my burger and take a few bites. Random pieces of bacon fall onto my plate and before I can grab them, she snatches them up. “What’s the worst thing they’ve said about you that was true?”

Laney stabs her salad with her fork as if it’s offended her somehow. “That I can’t keep a man,” she says, sighing.

I’m not sure what the right response is, but I reach across the table and rest my hand on hers. “Somehow I don’t think that’s true.” I know it isn’t because she could’ve easily kept me.

Laney’s eyes shoot up and connect with mine. I smile, but she doesn’t. I start to remove my hand from her, realizing I’ve overstepped my boundaries, only to find her fingers interlocking with mine.

As soon as our waiter steps to our table, she pulls her hand back. I try not to let the sudden movement mean anything. I get it. She has appearances to keep up, and I don’t fit the mold, which when I think about it, is fine. Laney and I are in two very different places in our lives, and will likely never be on the same page.