Bekka couldn’t believe her reading didn’t come up with the three of swords, the tower, the fucking Queen of Swords in reverse. Anything.
Bryan shook his head, protesting. “I’m not hooking her up. This isn’t a hookup. I told her I needed her to take some pictures. It’s the same thing I told you. I just didn’t know she…you’d…you know. With her. How was I supposed to know that?”
“Well, I had no fucking idea. And it was college. Sue me.” Bekka had never intended to see Marissa again.
“Why are you yelling at me?” Bryan sighed. “I mean, okay. I brought you here because I really want this promotion, so I need to pull off this whole marketing campaign I dreamed up. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I mean…whoa, right? When did you let her know she’d won?”
Bryan thought it. “This spring?”
“And she’s…just telling you now that the wedding fell through?” Didn’t weddings take, like, forever to plan?
Bryan’s eyebrow shot up. “Yes…which is weird.”
“Like stupid weird. I mean, when Barb did her wedding, she had to get a venue a year in advance, the church, the band, the dress.” Goddess, the drama with the damn dress…
“So she accepted a honeymoon before she planned a wedding…” Bryan crossed his arms. “Why would you do that?”
“Maybe she did, and it was a left-at-the-altar thing.” Her eyes went wide at the thought. “How awful would that be?”
“She did say it wasn’t her fault. Damn. I guess I understand why she’s so—” Bryan waved his hand at the closed and locked adjoining door. “Like that.”
“She’s very high-strung and stiff. She was even in college.” Bekka had been wildly in love, or at least she’d thought so. She just hadn’t been able to give Marissa the whole ‘solid, stable’ thing.
“If this is too much, I get it. You could not do this. I’ll figure something else out. Keep your vacation though.”
“No. No, I mean…obviously someone was evil to her. I’m not. Evil. Mostly.” Maybe she could even make it better. At the very least, she could have a little fun here.
“Mostly.” Bryan laughed. “Okay, I have to run. Hit me up if you want to have dinner; I don’t have any plans.”
“I will. Love you.”
“I love you. I’m glad you’re here. We get to have Christmas together. There’s a festival at the farm in town that you’d love.”
“Sounds perfect.” She was a sucker for goofy Christmas celebrations.
Bryan gave her a wave and left her alone in her room. It had a great view; she could see the mountain and the snow, the blue sky and trees. It was so wintery and picturesque.
There was a balcony, and she stepped out onto it to see if she could see more of the mountain. She could so see why Bryan had moved out here. It was amazing.
Marissa was out on the balcony in a heavy robe and cozy slippers, dark hair up in a messy bun. She’d started up the hot tub and was looking up at the sky, arms crossed tightly across her chest as if she were chilly.
Bekka didn’t know what to say, but whatever happened, she wasn’t at fault. “It’s pretty out here, isn’t it?”
Marissa glanced over sharply, squinting at her for a second, then looked away. “Gorgeous. And cold.”
“Yeah, but that’s how Christmas is supposed to be. Not hot. Unless you’re Brazilian or Australian or something.” They were used to it, she guessed. Did Aussie Santa ride a kangaroo?
“Yeah, I’m not feeling Christmas this year, cold or otherwise.” Marissa stuck her hand in the tub testing the water. “Just getting it over with.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I mean, about whatever happened, that sucks.” That was clear, right?
Marissa snorted. “Well, she isn’t the first woman I’ve been with who wouldn’t commit to me.”
For a second Bekka thought Marissa had said committed, and she’d almost—almost, thank the universe at large—made a terrible comment.
Then she thought about getting bitchy, but there was no way at all Marissa was talking about her.