Her Pretend Christmas Date: A Lesbian Christmas Romance

Because she had noticed a few things. Laney was the kind of beautiful that people liked to stare at. That people definitely noticed. That people liked to photograph. It was almost an injustice to the world that she liked to be on the other side of the lens. Morgun did indeed remember every one of those details, like they were burned into her brain like everlasting photos.

“I know!” Chelsea said suddenly, making Morgun jump. “Do you think she’d remember you?”

“No,” Morgun rasped. “No, of course she wouldn’t. She probably doesn’t remember any of the people she’s stepped all over to get where she is.”

Chelsea ignored the bite in Morgun’s tone. “You should totally message her.”

“What? Why?” Morgun shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She was sure the temperature hadn’t changed in the past few seconds, but suddenly she was sweating. Could Chelsea possibly know what she’d been thinking? Probably. They had been friends for years.

“Well, it’s obvious. She took your dream job. You should go as her date to the wedding and sabotage everything.”

“I couldn’t do that! Why would you even think that!”

“Because payback’s a bitch.”

“No! Chelsea! God! How could you even think of that? And how does one sabotage someone at a wedding exactly?”

“Well, she’s probably a high-ranking guest or even in the wedding if she’s not doing the photos.”

“She shoots for magazines,” Morgun stated dryly. “Only I ever get roped into doing weddings.”

She hated photographing weddings. Everyone was always stressed out and that made her job much harder. Somehow, she always got stuck doing the bridezilla, mother of the bridezilla, groomzilla, maid of honorzilla, or randomzilla wedding. It made Morgun vow each and every time that she’d never do another wedding again. Somehow, she always got roped into doing yet another and another. Her problem was that she couldn’t say no. Or she needed a big bump in revenue.

“You should still go. She probably doesn’t even remember who you are! You could go undercover and see what her life is like now. Maybe she needs another assistant. Then you could work for her and learn all her trade secrets and then steal her contacts.”

“Hmm. That’s not a bad idea.” Morgun shook her head. “I mean, yes it is. It’s a very bad idea. I couldn’t do that! I’m not mean enough for that! She’d see through me right away. And I have my own business. I couldn’t just drop that and start working for someone else.”

“Well, your choice. But I say you go as her date and stick it to her. The idea will probably come to you. Embarrass her somehow. It’s not that hard to think of mean things to do if you put your mind to it.”

Good lord, am I really sitting here having this conversation right now?

Just considering the idea made Morgun feel creepy and evil. She didn’t like the feeling. She didn’t like it when she turned to stare at the grainy profile photo again and a shiver traced down her back. Laney Sterling was too beautiful for her own good.

“Please?” Chelsea begged. “At least message her. I want to see what she does. If she remembers you. If not, then she deserves to have some kind of punishment. She stole your job. She ruined your life.”

“Thanks. I thought you said I’m doing just fine.”

“But you could have been famous! You could have, like, made it made it. You are doing fine. But she’s riding on the top of the world. Come on. Just a little bit evil. You could steal a few of her clients or get a name from someone who would help you break into the industry. Get your foot in the door. Not abandon your business, but try to get her to give up some information. This is what you want to be doing. You are doing fine, but you’re way too talented. Seriously. I think that if you have a chance, you should take it. Or sabotage her speech if she has to make one. Perform a wardrobe malfunction on her. Smush cake in her face. It’s probably a ritzy ass wedding with expensive food and lots of free drinks. Steal a wedding gift and blame it on her. I don’t know. It will come to you.”

“I don’t know, Chelsea. I don’t believe that everything’s connected to the nth degree like you do. I don’t believe everything happens for a reason. I didn’t stumble across her profile just to make my life better by ruining hers.”

“Well, I think there’s a lot to be said for fate,” Chelsea declared stubbornly. “I think we must have co

me across her profile for a reason. And I also think it’s your personal mission to figure out why.”

“It’s obvious why. It’s so I can point out what a bitch life is, how lucky she is, how I got screwed over, vent a little, pity myself a little, and then keep scrolling.”

“No!”

Before she could stop Chelsea, her friend leaned over and stole the laptop. Morgun squirmed out of her chair and went running down the hall after her. A second later, the bathroom door slammed.

“Chelsea!” Morgun yelled, banging on the door.

“I’m sending her a message. You can’t stop me. I’m putting things in motion. Things do happen for a reason! I’m proving to you that fate is a thing!”

“Please don’t!”

She was silent for a minute, then Chelsea’s voice, high and giddy, drifted out. “It’s too late. I already did.”