“All right, we can settle that once you get home.” I think she’s finally going to cut me loose when she adds, “So, you’ve heard about Julia and Paul. Isn’t it wonderful news?”

Peachy, I’d say, to keep in tone with the wedding color scheme.

“Yeah, I had lunch with them yesterday.”

“Oh, great. So, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind swapping rooms with your sister?”

“And why should I do that?”

“Because your bed is bigger, and since Paul is spending the holidays with us—”

“WHAT?!”

“Isn’t it marvelous? He’s almost part of the family now, and it makes sense he’d want to be with us at Christmas.”

“And what about his family? Don’t they want to spend Christmas Day with their son?”

“I think his mom prefers Thanksgiving. Anyway, can I tell Julia she can have your room?”

“No.”

“Nikki, don’t be unreasonable. You’re coming home by yourself, and they’re two—they can’t sleep in Julia’s bunk bed.”

The thought of Julia and Paul sleeping—and doing who knows what else—in my old bed blinds me with rage. I lost my virginity on that bed with my first boyfriend—senior year, one spring afternoon when both my parents were out. Julia can’t have that, too. That bed has a lot of good memories, and I won’t let Julia spoil those as well. She’s already collected enough pieces of me.

“I’m not by myself,” I say on impulse.

“What do you mean?” my mom asks, surprised.

“My boyfriend is coming with me.”

And I’m digging myself a deeper grave with every sentence.

“You have a boyfriend? Since when?”

“Yeah, it hasn’t been long, but I wanted you all to meet him.”

Lie, after lie, after lie.

“Oh, Nikki, you’re making me so happy! What’s his name? How did you meet?”

“I don’t have time to tell you the whole story now, Mom, but don’t worry, you’ll meet him soon enough.”

“Sure. I’ll let you go back to work… So many things to organize here. I love you, honey.”

“Love you, too, Mom. Bye.”

I hang up and drop my head on the desk over my crossed arms.

What have I done?

I should call her back and tell her it’s all been a mistake. That Julia can have my man, my dream life, and even my bed. What does it matter, anyway?

Only it does matter. I can’t spend a week at home, single and pathetic, sleeping in Julia’s tiny princess bed while she shares my bed with Paul. Not possible.

I straighten up.

So, where do I find a boyfriend?

I throw a guilty stare at my computer.

No, I couldn’t.

What if someone at the office found out?

Impossible.

No one would ever believe I’ve hired a fake boyfriend off the agency’s database.

With a few quick clicks of the mouse, I close the Excel sheet I was studying and access the actors/models database.

A pop-up window prompts me to input filters to narrow down the search. I select “male” and then, before I know what I’m doing, I start creating an avatar of Julia’s ideal man.