“Desperate times, desperate measures.”

“But he could be a psycho, a rapist, a serial killer.”

“I’m sure he’s none of those things.”

“Yeah? How sure?”

“You can tell for yourself. He’ll be here in…” I check my watch. “Half an hour.”

“WHAT?” Blair shoots up from her stool and starts pacing around, shaking her head. “He’s coming over tonight? But where will he sleep?”

“The couch? I thought you were spending the night at Richard’s.”

“And what if I were? You would’ve let him sleep in my bed without even asking?”

“Oh, come on. We’ve always used each other’s rooms to host friends and family when the other was away, without asking.”

“Yeah, right. Friends and family, not complete strangers who—”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” I raise my voice as tears of frustration fill my eyes. “Be the good girl, go home, and let Julia have everything she wants? Hasn’t she taken enough from me? I won’t let her win this time.”

“Okay, let’s calm down here.” Blair’s face softens. “The engagement and Paul joining your family for the holidays have been huge shocks. But is hiring this dude really the only answer?”

“If you have a better idea that will let me keep my sanity and my room back home, shoot…”

Blair goes to sit on the couch, and after a moment I join her. I can almost hear the wheels in her brain turning, trying to find an alternative solution. But after five minutes of scrunching her face and staring into space, she turns toward me, defeated.

“I’ve got nothing,” she huffs.

“See? I’m not crazy.”

“Apparently not. What do you need from me?”

“For you to get on board with the plan and pretend you’ve known Diego for a few months—”

“Diego?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Surname?”

“O’Donnell.”

She types both into her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving his generalities in case you disappear and the police need them.”

“Hey, you’re the only person I know who ever got in trouble with the cops.”

“I was a victim of the justice system, and we’re not talking about me.”

“I thought you were asking how you could be supportive.”

Blair sighs. “I was. Anything else you need?”

I make big, Puss-in-Boots eyes at her. “Could you free some closet space in your room?”

***

When the doorbell rings, Blair is already packed and ready to go back to Brooklyn. She’s called Richard, who’ll come to pick her up in a bit—she’s asked for enough time to make sure Diego is no Charlie Manson, I suspect.

“He’s coming up,” I announce after buzzing Diego in.

“Good.” Blair has settled with her butt against the back of the couch and is staring at the door with the same rapt expression of a hawk scanning the woods for squirrels.

I wait by the threshold, keeping the door half open and feeling ridiculously nervous.

When I spot Diego walking down the hall, I have a moment’s hesitation. With his leather jacket, dark looks, and biker helmet, he really is a “bad boy” personification. I just hope Blair can get past first impressions.