Her Pretend Christmas Date: A Lesbian Christmas Romance

Chelsea had indeed made her a profile and shown her how to use the site, but since then, she’d purposefully avoided going on and checking her messages or looking through profiles. It all seemed like a lot of work for something that just wouldn’t work out. Maybe that was why people died alone. Maybe that was how people became workaholics and hermits. Because dating really sucked.

Chelsea flicked on the laptop and brought up the dating site. She logged in with Morgun’s information and shook her head when she saw that none of the messages in the inbox had even been opened. Instead of giving Morgun a lecture, Chelsea just populated the search with what she saw as Morgun’s ideal type, or at least age range, and the fact that she was looking for a female partner, and hit search.

Morgun cringed. She had no idea how narrowing it down that way would lead to someone she’d be interested in. They were going to be doing this all freaking night when what she really wanted to do was watch a movie and drink a few glasses of wine and not talk about her woefully lacking love life.

“Oh my God, no way!”

Morgun’s hand shot out as a picture slid past on the screen. She angled the laptop in her direction and clicked on the photo and leaned in to get a better view. It wasn’t a good photo—grainy, low light, features intentionally obscured—but there was no mistaking the dark, glossy hair, the sharp, stunning features, or the piercing dark eyes. A wave of shock rolled through her like soundwaves travel through a person standing too close to one of those huge speakers at a club. She could feel it clatter up her backbone.

“Who’s that?” Chelsea asked, popping her gum annoyingly. She leaned further into Morgun in an effort to get a better look. “Do you know her?”

“Know her? This is the…I won’t use the b-word to describe her, because that’s really impolite, but this is the…woman who got the job instead of me.”

Chelsea gasped. “But that was two years ago. How can you be sure?”

“I’m sure.” Morgun clicked on the name at the top of the profile.

Starrynightsky187.

What a stupid name. Is that the best she could do?

“I had no idea she was a lesbian.”

“Well, judging from the fact that she’s in the women looking for women category, I’d say she must be.”

Morgun grunted at Chelsea’s dry response. She knew she should just keep right on scrolling, but before she could go past the profile, Chelsea clicked on it and they were both faced with a brief write up and that same grainy photo.

“Oooh! It says that she’s really just looking to meet someone to go to a wedding with her and then wants to see where things go!” Chelsea exclaimed giddily.

“That’s insane. Who would advertise for that kind of thing on a site like this? She’s just asking for disaster.” Disaster which Morgun hoped would befall her. She wasn’t a mean-spirited person. She was generally way too nice by nature. But Laney Sterling was another matter altogether. For Laney Sterling, disaster was probably too good.

“Jesus, for someone who takes pictures for a living, she sure has a shitty profile picture, and there aren’t any other pictures on here either.”

“I think that’s intentional. She probably doesn’t want people to know she’s basically trying to solicit a date just for a wedding. That’s pathetic. Although, I can see how it would come down to that. She’s not a very nice person. She probably can’t get a date any other way.”

“Why? I mean, I know she got your dream job, but she didn’t do anything cut-throat to get it, did she? How do you know she’s not nice?”

Morgun turned away, suddenly flustered, caught up in her own bitterness, like getting called out for lying online where everyone could see. “No, I guess not. They said that they went with her even though my portfolio was better because she had more experience. I don’t know what that had to do with anything.”

“Do you think she did something to get the job?” Chelsea wiggled her brows. “Like…”

“No! Dear God. I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know her, but I never thought that.”

“Those assholes missed out on you. It’s their problem. Just because she’s basically a famous photographer now, that doesn’t mean anything. You own your own business! You’re your own boss.”

“She takes photos for magazines that are seen by millions of people. I might be my own boss and it might pay the bills, but it’s never going to make me rich. She probably drives a brand new car every year and lives in a penthouse condo with a pool on the roof that only she gets to use.”

“Does she have a purse doggie too?”

Morgun bit down on her lip to keep a laugh in. “That’s too far. This is Anaheim, not LA. And that would be saying that Laney Sterling is an animal person. She doesn’t look like an animal person. She looks like the kind of lady dogs would growl at and try to bite her ankles, and she’d kick at them and yell for someone to get that mangy mutt away from her.”

Chelsea giggled, getting into the spirit. “Does she wear designer clothes, but only in shades of pink that don’t really go with her skin tone?”

“She’s got an olive undertone. Her hair and eyes are dark. Every shade of pink would work on her.”

Chelsea leaned in a little further across the desk. “You can tell all that from that photo?” She was clearly impressed.

“Yeah,” Morgun said nonchalantly. She didn’t want Chelsea to think that she remembered any details about Laney’s face from that day at the interview or anything.