Totlandia: Winter (11 page)

Money.
Yes! Yes!
She couldn’t even scrape together the money for a Christmas tree for the girls. But with the extra money from working the party, she’d get them a small one.

And maybe have Caleb over for Christmas Eve.

Which meant she’d have to get the oven fixed, too.

She’d make sure Brad booked her for all of the private parties, from now until the end of the year.

Monday, 10 December

11:10 a.m.

“Is this really a cookie?” little Ferguson Wickett grabbed hold of the witch’s cap on the gingerbread house in the Fairmont’s lobby and gave it a twist. When it came off in his hand, frosting icicles and all, he did what any three-year-old boy would do, he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth.

Jillian watched as a security guard yanked him up by his tiny velvet vest so that his feet dangled a yard over the hotel’s plush Persian carpet. Thank goodness Ferguson’s mother, Mallory, was busy gossiping with two other Threesies mothers.

“Please don’t throw him out,” she begged the guard. “He’s just a rambunctious little boy.”

The guard looked at Ferguson. It would have helped the little boy’s cause if he wasn’t smiling through lips covered in frosting. Finally, the guard sighed and loosened his grip. “Then please keep him on a leash,” he muttered as he released Ferguson, nudging him toward Jillian.

At that moment, Mallory looked over in time to see the guard’s hands coming off her little angel. “Ferguson broke
what
? So, what’s the big deal? Boys will be boys, right? He should know that, unless he’s too old to remember.”

The guard turned and frowned at Mallory. She scowled back, ready to make something of it.

No way was Jillian going to have Mallory get into a row with Fairmont security when Amelia and Addison’s memberships depended on it. Quickly, she grabbed Ferguson’s hand, practically running up the Fairmont’s grand staircase with him. “Come on, everyone! Follow Ferguson and me! After we decorate gingerbread men, we’ll eat them, too!”

The stampede of children following them was even louder than the carolers in the lobby.

Lorna grabbed Addison along with Dante, while Ally picked up Amelia and Zoe, and followed the crowd.

The security guard had to hold the courtesy phone away because the pastry chef’s curses were so loud and furious, but by the time the children’s party was over, the gingerbread house would have a new rooftop ornament.

***

“Do you have a cold?” Ally asked as she handed Jade some green frosting for what was left of the gingerbread man that hadn’t made it into Oliver’s mouth. “You look ill.”

Jade shook her head. She wasn’t ill.

She’d just seen a ghost.

Santa.

She and Oliver had been standing behind Ally, who had already placed Zoe in his lap. The little girl seemed smitten with Santa. Although she didn’t know that he was promising her a truckload of Baby Stella dolls, she smiled and squealed while yanking on his beard.

When it came loose, Jade knew for sure: Santa was Johnny DeLong.

Or Long John DingDong, as they called him in the porn industry.

The same Long John DingDong who had starred with her in
Alice in WonderLust
.

As the Mad Hatter, he’d worn nothing but a stovepipe hat and a bowtie.

In one scene, they’d tied the bowtie to his schlong as a gift to ‘Alice.’

Thinking about how, when, and where his prized appendage had been used—
on her
—was enough to make Jade lightheaded. She needed her wits about her. If Ally suspected anything—if Brady had told her about Jade’s past—Ally could use it to keep Brady on the hook. Worse yet, it would get Jade bounced from the club. If Jade blew Oliver’s chances with PHM&T, she’d lose Brady, hands down.

Would Ally do that to me?
Jade wondered.

In the two and a half weeks since the Pierces had hosted Ally and the other Onesies for Thanksgiving, Brady had gone out of his way to be kind and caring toward Jade. She didn’t know what to think of that. She did know, however, that she was still initiating all the sex they’d had. All she could think about was,
Is he also seeing someone else?

But she was afraid to ask him outright.

It was hard for her to tell. She couldn’t be with him twenty-four seven. In the mornings, he still went jogging. Every now and then, he went out with some of his tech buddies, or with his stockbroker, or his accountant. One thing was sure, he was no longer following her and Oliver to the meet-ups. Now she wished he did, so that at least she knew what he was doing when she was there with Oliver.

At least, with Ally here too, she was assured that they weren’t together. Maybe Brady was telling the truth and Ally really wasn’t the one who left the lavender thong in the cabinet.

But if not her, then whom? And was this person with Brady when she and Oliver—and Ally—were at meet-ups?

Regardless, ruminating about it made Jade miserable. And now she had one more reason to be anxious. What the hell was Long John DingDong doing here, anyway?

At first Santa didn’t really look up at her. All moms looked alike, right? At least, that was Jade’s hope and prayer. Instead, he hefted Oliver into the crux of one arm and muttered, “Yeah, okay, what’s this little tyke’s name?”

Jade turned away as she murmured, “Oliver.”

“What? Caldwell?” To get it right this time, Santa lifted his beard off his ear. Unfortunately, his eyes were level with Jade’s breasts. Like tractor beams, his irises locked onto them, where they lingered appreciatively. Finally, working their way up to her face, it took a moment for the fog of time and too many doobies to clear from his mind. “As I live and breathe! Jade Oliver, what the hell are you doing here?” He turned to examine Oliver. “And this little guy—he’s yours?”

Jade’s eyes grew big. She put a finger to her lips as she looked back at the others.

He ignored her silent plea. “This little guy is, what, over a year old, right? I can’t tell. All these kids look alike to me, especially the little pishers. But just to clear the air, that lets me off the hook, right? I mean, we made that porn flick, what, six months ago? So I can’t be the daddy. Granted, we went at it every which way but loose, but I wore condoms—and none of them broke, so you can’t claim otherwise. I’ve already beat three paternity suits. My fuckin’ lawyer takes all my film royalties. If it weren’t for those damn DNA tests—”

Jade put her hand over his mouth when she realized it was the only way to shut him up. “Johnny, listen up!
I don’t know you.
Get it?” She glanced over at Ally who was next in line. She was the last person she’d ever want to know about her porn movie.

Well, her and Bettina.

“What’s the hold-up?” Bettina’s voice, ringing out from the back of the line, sent a shiver up Jade’s spine.

Jade looked from Johnny to Ally, at a loss on what to do.

Ally held up Zoe for Bettina to see. “My fault, Bettina. Zoe lost a mitten in Santa’s lap. Jade is just trying to help us find it.”

Ally signaled the photographer to go ahead and take Oliver’s picture, despite the fact that the little boy had practically ripped off Santa’s beard. The minute it was snapped, she nudged Jade to pick up Oliver and hurry off the stage.

Jade practically ran to the ladies’ lounge. Once there, her look of terror in the mirror made her burst into tears. As she bent down to rinse the mascara out of her eyes, Oliver held his hands under the water, too, then splashed it onto her blouse. She sobbed even louder when she realized how the water made it so sheer that you could see her nipples through her bra.

The last thing she needed was for Santa to get a hard-on.

She hadn’t realized Ally had followed her until Zoe squealed and reached out for Oliver. When Jade set Oliver down on the lounge’s settee with her purse, Ally did likewise.

It took Jade a long time to get the words out without choking on her own shame. “So, now you know.” Then she turned to face her. “Or had Brady already told you?”

“Brady? No! He never mentioned…a film. He just said he met you at a…a strip club.”

Jade stared at her incredulously. “Why? Why would he tell you that?”

Ally shook her head. “Because…because he found out my secret. By mistake. It was his way of saying that it was safe with him.”

“About your being a single mom, right?” Jade was so happy to be throwing something back in Ally’s face. “And that you also work.” Sadness wiped the smirk off her face. “Still, he didn’t have to tell you mine. He did that because he likes you.”

The fact that Ally didn’t move was all the confirmation Jade needed.

“Jade, he and I are nothing more than friends.
That’s all
. I swear. I…I would never want to lose your friendship over a misunderstanding.”

A misunderstanding.

As if.

She doesn’t know him yet
, Jade thought.
He won’t give up just because she’s told him no.

Still, there was hope. Ally had told Brady to cool it. Her friendship with Jade meant something to her.

If she wants to believe we’re friends, sure I’ll play along
, Jade reasoned.
As long as they both believe that, he’ll have to stay away
.

I can always use the truth about Ally against her, when the time is right
.

When, finally, she gives in to Brady.

“By the way, I found your purple thong.”

Ally gave her a strange look. “My…what? I don’t think I left anything at your house…You mean, like a flip-flop?”

“Never mind.” Jade shrugged, dabbing away the last of her smeared mascara. “We better get back out there. Jillian’s got a runaway success on her hands—as long as Ferguson doesn’t use the Menorah to set the hotel’s curtains on fire. Do you think Oliver will be that bad when he’s three?”

“Zoe will outdo him, trust me.” Ally glanced over at her daughter. “Oh my God! She’s painted Oliver with my lipstick! If it doesn’t come out of his shirt, I swear, I’ll buy him a new one.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Jade meant every word of that.
Not yet, anyway
, she thought.

Friday, 15 December

11:23 a.m.

“So, what are you wearing to Ally’s shindig tonight?” Jade whispered to Jillian as she dropped Oliver beside the twins, just as the Presidio Library’s reader started in on
Salt and Pepper at the Pike Place Market.

Jillian looked over at her, puzzled. “What are you talking about? I didn’t get any invitation to it.”

“Silly, of course you did! The club’s parent holiday party! How could you forget?”

Jillian groaned. “With the planning of the children’s party and all the overtime I’ve been working, it totally slipped my mind! Heck, I have to work that night! My restaurant has a big catering gig.”

“Don’t be a dummy! If you don’t show up—” Jade shrugged. “Well, let me put it this way, you’d better have a letter from a funeral director informing Bettina that you’re already six feet under, because you’ll be dead and buried to the club, too.”

Jillian grimaced. “Cover for me. I’m going outside to call my boss and tell him one of the girls is coming down with something. It’s the only excuse that won’t get me fired.”

She headed out the door, praying that none of the women on the applications committee noticed her leaving the room.

***

“Seriously? You’re leaving me short-handed for this party?” Brad was practically screaming in Jillian’s ear.

“I have a sick kid! And—and the other one is starting to sniffle as well.” Jillian bit her lip. She hated to lie. “Besides, with me around all these germs, I doubt you’ll want me spreading them to the party guests.”

There was silence on the other line. Finally, Brad said, “You owe me.”

Jillian exhaled. “Yes, I do…but any days other than Mondays, Wednesdays—”

“Yeah, I get it! ‘Or Fridays.’” He snorted. “This is the last time you bale on me, Jillian. Do you hear me?”

“Yes. Cross my heart. I just can’t leave a sick child—”

He hung up before she finished.

Serves me right
, she thought.
I’m a lousy liar
.

6:33 p.m.

“Your crush is a cutie,” Barry whispered in Ally’s ear.

Ally blushed. “Hush. Someone may overhear us.”

She looked around the party to see if she could spot Bettina. They had reserved the Flood Mansion for the Pacific Heights Moms and Tots Club parents’ party, and it was packed to the rafters. As hostess, Ally made sure that the tree was the biggest she could find. Tiny white lights twinkled in its boughs. Holly was draped over doors, windows and banisters, and tied with large red velvet bows. Carolers flowed in and out of the large stately rooms. Fake snow fell in gentle drifts from the upstairs balconies in front of the windows below.

“Don’t worry. She Who Cannot Be Crossed has Mr. Maybe cornered by the tree. That doesn’t seem to make his little wife too happy, since she has to make small talk with Bettina’s snore of a hubby. All he wants to do is look down her dress.” Barry took a swig of his martini. “By the way, I presume you know that Mr. Maybe watches every move you make.” He waved at Brady.

“Cut it out, troublemaker!” Ally shook her head. “And will you quit calling him Mr. Maybe? Besides, I’ve told him I can’t….we can’t…We can only be friends.”

“Maybe that’s why he looks so sad.”

“We’re all sad.” Ally closed her eyes with a sigh. “None of us thought this was going to turn out this way. We thought joining the club would be…easy.”

“Did you think having a kid would turn your life into Candy Land? You know better than that. Life is never easy.” He grimaced. “And love makes it even more complicated.”

“Sounds like you’re having man trouble, too.”

Ally’s sly smile earned a shrug from him. “You know Christian is against my bearding for you. He warned me that if one of these closeted husbands start flirting with me, this whole scheme of yours is going to blow up in your face—and mine, too.” He shook his head. “As if I’d be tempted.”