Page 12 of Snowed Inn

The whole apartment feels like Christmas.

It’s different than at Nonna’s house, but it’s still Christmas.

It smells amazing here too. The aromas of roast beef and gravy float out of the kitchen. El arranged for the inn’s chef to make something special for all of us.

The dogs—Pumpkin the pug and Argos, Aiden’s yellow lab—are curled up in front of the fire. Pumpkin is snoring.

I finish greeting Charlotte and Aiden when a familiar voice cuts in behind me.

“Running late because it took you that long to pick an outfit?”

I don’t need to turn around. I know that voice.

Jesse.

Because of course he’s already here.

Ellie told me he’d be joining us for dinner. She’s not the type to let anyone spend Christmas alone.

To be fair, neither am I, but that doesn’t mean I’m in the mood for Ball Cap and his opinions on my fashion choices.

I turn slowly and give him a full once-over. Same flannel. Same jeans. Same boots. Still irritatingly handsome, which is just rude.

“Some of us put effort into how we look,” I say, arching a brow.

“Ouch,” he says, but he’s grinning like he thinks he won that round. Delusional.

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Maria, you look gorgeous. Jesse, be nice.”

Charlotte takes one look at me and my silver dress and gasps. “Wait—is that Valentino?” She presses a hand to her chest.

I perk up. I did not know Charlotte was a designer girl.

“It is,” I confirm with a pleased smile.

Jesse scoffs. “Oh, so that dress probably costs more than some people make in a month.”

Not me (I got it secondhand at a luxury consignment store), but I’m not about to admit that. Something else I’ll never admit to Mr. Butler? I have an OnlyFans account dedicated to my feet in expensive shoes. It brings in a ridiculous amount of money each month that helps me pay for dresses like this and my insanely expensive apartment in Chelsea. If my mom found out, she would expire on the spot. Or at least say several hundred rosaries. El knows about it, but she’s sworn to secrecy, and Ball Cap . . . he will not be privy to that information.

“I like nice things,” I say with a pained smile.

He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “There are better ways to spend money.”

“Oh yeah? Like investing in a lifetime supply of clearance lumberjack cosplay?”

Charlotte snorts. El shakes her head.

“Kids,” Aiden says, clapping his hands. “Let’s not argue on Christmas Eve.”

He’s right. It’s Christmas Eve, and despite Jesse’s provocation, I need to remain civil. And be a good guest. I glance around. It looks like Charlotte has finished setting the table. “Is there anything I can help with?” I ask.

“Nope. It’s pretty much all done,” El says with a smile.

“I’ll clean the dishes afterward then,” I inform her.

Jesse snorts and shakes his head. “I can’t wait to see that.”

“Jesse,” El warns in a low voice.