I was zipping up my jacket and wondering if I’d messed up by leaving the scarf at home. When Mark opened the door, my mistake was emphasized by a cold blast of wind that instantly made my lips feel like I just ate out Frosty’s asshole. And while I was sure that there was someone out there in the world that was up to the job, I knew damn well it wasn’t me.

“Great,” I mumbled as we stepped outside, my body stiffening against the cold. Snow was forecast for next week, which was something else to add to my “dreading with every fiber of my being” list.

“Huh?” Mark asked. He was much smarter than I was and had a thick gray scarf wrapped around his neck and lower face.

“Nothing, just hate the cold,” I said, my breath coming out in heavy clouds.

I was upset at the cold, sure, but there was something else I was annoyed by.

Andrew wasn’t there anymore. The guy with the electric smile and mesmerizing light brown eyes wasn’t sitting at the front desk when we were leaving, and that made me more upset than I thought it would. Especially since: One, we only talked for about fifty-four seconds, and two, he was proudly displaying a silver wedding band on his ring finger.

Left hand—yes, I made sure.

He’s probably off Christmas shopping with his spouse.

The thought made me dislike this season just that much more.

“I don’t like this weather, either,” Mark said, his smile tightening as the cold whipped against his face. Over the past hour and a half, I’d gotten a good measure for Mark and liked what I saw. He was smart and kind, and he seemed like the person who was going to help with my issue.

“Thanks for coming to Stonewall for help,” Mark said as we got out onto the street. We shook, our gloves adding an odd layer of cushion to our handshake. “It’s a case that means a lot to you, and I’m going to crack it.”

“Thank you, Mark.” I smiled as we said our goodbyes and turned to go separate ways, braving the cold concrete jungle alone. I could head back to my place since it was already five in the evening and work would be winding down by now. Even though I was sure I’d have a hundred new emails to deal with at work, I still wanted to take some time to myself, something I hadn’t really been doing since—well, fuck, since the breakup. Since then I’d just been obsessed with the grind. I found working constantly was a great antidote to actually feeling feelings, which were most of the time just feelings of feeling like shit… feelings.

Yeah, work had consumed my life.

But that also wasn’t healthy, and it’d been catching up to me. A year and a half of working nonstop would fuck most people up. After rushing to the urgent care last week thinking my appendix had burst, which was really just a bad case of IBS, even my doctor said I needed to take a break and relax.

So fine. I’d relax. I walked for a little while, thinking about what I could do with the rest of my day, until the cold was too much to bear. I took a turn and entered into a grand hotel lobby that was bound to be heated. Thankfully, I was right. Walking in felt like being hugged by Mother Mary herself.

I walked over to the already packed bar that was open out toward the classic lobby, a few tourists scanning over their maps as they stood by impressive spiral columns. There were holiday decorations smartly placed throughout the lobby, while some generic Christmas jingle played over the sound system. I grabbed a stool near the cashier and took my gloves off, grabbing my phone and opening up Google. A quick search later, and I was making an appointment for a full-body massage at a nearby spa, where charcoal baths and blueberry facials were also on the menu (and also purchased—damn upsellers). It wasn’t until another hour, though, so I decided to grab a drink first.

When the doctor prescribes it, you gotta listen.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” I said to the cute bartender. He had blond hair with a swirl in the front that made him look like a Sunday-morning newspaper cartoon strip.

One I wouldn’t mind watching strip.

The two ladies next to me got up and left when he came back, handing us all our drinks. I wasn’t keeping my tab open—I had a massage to catch—so I handed my card over and asked for the tab to be closed. The drink was refreshing and well made, with a twist of lime on the top and a good amount of gin, ensuring he was going to get a good tip.

I sensed movement next to me. From the side of my eye, I saw bright red and stark white. I tried to turn discreetly, but my glances are never sneaky. I’m the worst at sneaking. In fact, I tried to take a sneaky shot of Rihanna once when she was at a grand opening event for the new hotel opening in Paris. It was just us and a few others in a back room, and she was looking like a fucking goddess, so of course I wanted a picture of that. Just so I could have something to remind me that heaven is real and it’s all worth it.

Well, I thought I was being slick, except my flash was on—and set to extra powerful if that’s even a fucking setting. The flash filled the room and clearly surprised everyone. It felt like the equivalent of yelling “Bitch! Dick!” really loudly into a quiet room. Thankfully she was super cool about it and basically had an impromptu photo shoot with us there and then.

Needless to say, when I turned to see who’d just taken the seat next to me, I made direct eye contact with the man. He smiled, pushing up those rosy, chubby cheeks. There was a long white beard that looked very well taken care of, and it sat on a big belly, his red shirt matching the red pants…

“If it isn’t the man of the season himself,” I said, lifting my glass in his direction. “Cheers, Mr. Claus.”

He wasn’t in full Santa Claus regalia, but I could tell he had just finished a shift. Or maybe he was starting one? Either way, he was missing the glasses, coat, and the hat.

“Cheers, bud,” he said in a very non-Santa type of way. I was definitely expecting Merry and Bright, but he was giving me Meh and Grumpy.

“Long day?” I asked, wondering what kind of story this man had. I’d never met a Santa impersonator in real life, aside from the ones I’d yell and cry at when I was a little kid. Thankfully, I wasn’t having that same reaction.

“Long month,” he said, letting out a heavy exhale and asking for a Coors from the bartender.

“I pegged Santa as more of a spiced-wine kind of guy.”

“Nah, his blood is beer and tequila shots. That’s how he can make it to all those houses in a night.” He let out a belly laugh, his head shaking from side to side, giving me the impression it was the first one he’d had in a while.

“Thanks for letting me in on the secret.”

“You seem like a trustworthy guy,” Santa-lite said. He took a deep swig of the beer and set it down on the polished bar. He was looking straight ahead, toward the other side of the bar. There were TVs showing a basketball game, but I could tell he wasn’t interested in that. “You also seem like a really good guy. The kind on the ‘nice’ list. Is that right?”

I shrugged, getting my gin and tonic down to half the glass. “I could be naughty if I wanted, too.” That came out sounding worse than I planned, but I rolled with it. This was already weird as fuck—might as well add another dash of odd to the situation. “But yes, I try to be a good guy for the most part.”

“Yeah, I know your type.” He took another big gulp of the beer. “My wife left me for a guy like you.”

My eyebrows almost fell off my face; that’s how fast they shot up. “Whoa, I, uh, shit. Sorry.” What the hell was I supposed to say? Assure him that Mrs. Claus wasn’t riding my South Pole?

“Nah, not your fault,” mock Mr. Claus said, my surprise most likely painted across my face. “It’s my fault, really. I didn’t give her what she wanted. Needed. I took her for granted, and things just fell apart from one day to the next. Well, that’s how it felt like. But it was falling apart for years now; I was just too stupid to own up to it.”

I didn’t imagine my day starting with a trip to a detective agency, where I’d shake hands with the most beautiful man I’d ever met in my life, to now serving as a shoulder to cry on for a Santa look-alike inside a hotel only a few blocks from Times Square.

“Still,” I said, “I’m sorry.” I finished up what was left of my drink. “If it’s any consolation, I fell out of a long-term relationship about a year back, and I’m supposed to be attending a big family retreat for the holidays where I’m sure everyone will judge my failed relationship while both my stepsiblings flaunt their perfectly functioning relationships around.”

“That does sound messed up,” sad Santa said. “At least I can hide away inside my apartment and not face any of that judgmental crap.” He looked down at the bar top. “Still, though, family around this time of year is important.”

“Eh,” I replied, “you don’t know my family. It’s messy, and there’s a chance it could be getting messier.” I swallowed, feeling a sudden onset of nerves. It made me think back to the reason behind me going to Stonewall in the first place.

And Andrew, that guy… I can’t get him out of my head.

“Families are always messy. That’s what makes them fun.”

I laughed at that. My drinking buddy barely even knew the half of it. If I told him that I was part of the Rose-Covington family, founders and owners of one of the biggest luxury hotel chains in the entire world, then he’d probably see that sometimes things were far from fun.

“You’ve still got time,” Santa-man said. “Christmas is a month away.”

“You’re right. It’s not that I haven’t been looking, I just haven’t found anyone that makes me want to really commit. I feel like dating is kind of like a roller coaster, and you gotta commit to sitting down and locking in those seat restraints before it takes off and you go flying into the air.”

“Nice analogy. I’m going to use that.”

“Go ahead,” I said. “Just credit me first.”

St. Fake Nick was chuckling, his big belly bouncing. “How about not getting any coal in your stocking?”

I laughed at that, remembering a time as a kid when that threat actually had an effect on me. “I wouldn’t mind starting up a barbeque, honestly.”

Faux-Claus narrowed his eyes and then gave a few more belly laughs. “So do you have any prospects at least? Anyone who’s gotten past the ‘you must be this tall’ sign and onto the roller coaster? Let me live vicariously through you.”

“Not really, no,” I said. “First off, my sign stands at a solid six foot four inches, so that already makes pickings slim. I’ve only been on five serious dates since my breakup, and they all were missing any kind of connection.” I sighed, wondering if I should order another drink. Maybe then I’d stop flashing back to Andrew’s perfect smile.

Which would then have me flashing back to that ring on his finger. It made me feel like shit, and I couldn’t even explain why. It wasn’t like him and I had some longtime, unrequited-love thing going on. I’d just met him, and yet I was disappointed to see he had found someone to love for the rest of his life.

Fuck, that’s selfish.

I ordered another gin and tonic. “Who knows? Maybe I’m just going to be single forever.”

“Nah,” pseudo-Santa replied with a shake of his big hand. “I don’t believe that. You’ve got someone out there—just gotta keep your eyes wide open.”

“Yeah, well, what happens if you spot someone who’s off-limits? Then what?”

“Then divert your wide open eyes,” Mr. Counterfeit Claus said with another laugh that spread to me. “Or keep those eyes open, and maybe a chance presents itself with that person. Maybe they aren’t as off-limits as they seem to be initially. Life has interesting ways of presenting opportunities. Sometimes they’re teased years in advance. Sometimes weeks.”

I looked over to him, and honest to God, I swore I saw a Hallmark Channel glint in his eye. As if there were some kind of artificial light shining from somewhere, making him seem more authentic than ever. “Maybe you’re right,” I said, checking my phone and seeing that the time had flown by. I needed to be heading out soon so I could have my body beaten up by a pair of impressively strong hands. “Hell, I hope you’re right.” I drank up the rest of my drink and started getting up, putting my gloves on and bundling for the cold outside.

“Thanks for this, ah…”

“Bryan,” he said, smiling.

“Right, Bryan.” I laughed, a part of me actually expecting him to say Nicholas. “Let’s make sure this holiday season is a good one. Messy family and past relationships be damned.”

“Cheers to that,” he said. “And hey, Declan, listen to your gut and do something crazy, okay? Sounds strange, I know, but crazy during Christmas always works. People are more open to wild ideas during this time of the season. It’s the magic of the holidays. And I think using that magic can really help you solve your problem.” He was smiling wide, his big rosy cheeks squeezing those bright blue eyes. “It’s like the holidays make people believe that life’s all a storybook, with snow-dusted trees and carolers strolling down the street. It makes us all feel like there can’t possibly be a bad ending to whatever story our lives are developing.”

I was nodding without even realizing it. “You’re totally right,” I said, feeling a sudden bout of inspiration. Rarely did I buy into inspirational-type talks, especially not from people I’d just met at a hotel bar, but in this instance… I was all for the impromptu SanTED-Talk. I ate that shit up and internalized it like he had just read me the most prophetic passage from the Bible.

“Thanks, Bryan,” I said, shaking his hand. “Your tab’s been covered by the way.” He looked to the signed receipt on the bar tab and then me, his face bright.

“Definitely no coal for you,” Bryan smiled. “Thank you!”

“Of course.” I started to leave, getting ready for the cold outside. Behind me, I heard the bartender say something, calling for my new friend’s attention.

Except he didn’t say Bryan; he called him—well, he called him Nick.

I probably misheard.

Walking through the crowded hotel lobby was a mission. It seemed like the entirety of New York was inside and looking for an escape from the cold. I nearly tripped over two very inconveniently placed suitcases and four very energetic children before finally making it to the spinning doors and jumping in just as one was open to me, managing not to get caught and cut in half (which was still a fear of mine even after spending pretty much my entire life in the city where revolving doors were common).

Wait… did I ever introduce myself to Bryan-Nick?

My phone started to ring, pulling my attention away. I figured he must have seen my name on my bill if I hadn’t officially said it. Tyler, my stepbrother, was requesting a FaceTime call. I stepped to the side so I wasn’t in the way of pedestrian traffic and also shielded from some of the wind. When I answered the call, Tyler’s face was nervously smiling at me, taking up the entire screen.

“Hey, Tyler, what’s going on.”

“Hey, man,” he said, sitting up on his couch. He was shooting glances off-camera, as if someone were standing nearby. “Busy?”

“I’ve got a few minutes. Everything okay?”

His brown hair was a mess and needed a cut, but I knew he’d been working hard lately, and it was starting to show. He was a controller for the hotel’s finances, and so he managed all the numbers and dealt with a ton of shit day in and day out. I’d never be able to do it, but Tyler seemed to like it.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rubbing his eye. “Everything’s good, man. I was just, um… well, you’re going to the Christmas thing, right?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great! Good, it’s gonna be good, man.”

“It will,” I said, sounding like it wouldn’t.

“Okay, so, I’m seeing someone, Deck, and I, um… I’m not coming to the Christmas retreat alone is what I’m saying.” He was looking way more stressed than this news should be making him. I already knew he was paired up, although his partner was a mystery to me still, so it felt a little weird for him to be reminding me. I tried not to make my real feelings show, so I smiled and said something pretty dumb:

“Great, we can have a double date night, then.”

“Oh yeah?” Tyler asked, perking up. “You’re bringing someone, too? Who? Have we already met?”

“Uh, no, no. No one’s met anyone yet.”

“Right, well, then I guess it’ll be fine if I bring my date…”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Cool,” he said.

“All right, well, I’ve got an appointment to catch. I’ll talk to you later, Tyler.”

“Right, talk later.” Before he hung up the call, he moved the phone so that the camera showed a mirror hanging behind him. In that reflection I thought I saw a glimpse of someone familiar. Like a ghost from the past I’d rather keep in the past.

It was so fast and my head was pretty fogged up from the gin and tonics, I didn’t think any more about it. Instead, I focused on how the hell I was going to find a date to bring to the retreat, which was coming up in a few weeks.

Fuckin’ hell.

This was going to be a rough holiday season, surrounded by family and their special someones. My special someone had walked out on me and left my heart broken, and now I was supposed to find someone hopefully just as special to come with me on the retreat. A retreat that was going to force me to spend time with my stepfather, the man I was hiring a detective to investigate.

Great. Just great.

God, I really need this massage.