Diego seems more amused than offended. “Paranoid much?”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “She’s just being overprotective.”

“You bet I am,” Blair snaps. “And you should also be aware that I have a trained attack dog who’d chew you to pieces if you so much as harm a hair on her head.”

To describe Chevron as a trained attack dog would be like saying Diego is a Danny DeVito lookalike—oil and water.

“And now…” Blair reaches into her bag, which is sitting on the stool next to Diego, and takes out a business card and a pen. She scribbles something on the blank side and hands it to him.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“My business card,” Blair says, nonplussed. “There’s an address written on the back. We’re casting a New Year’s fashion photo-shoot. The screening starts at 10.30 a.m. on Tuesday. Don’t be late.”

Diego smiles. “Do you always invite presumed serial killers to job interviews, or do you only need an extra mug shot?”

Blair’s answer dies on her lips as the buzzer goes off, and the only thing I can think is, “Saved by the bell!”

My roomie gathers the suitcase she’s prepared for her ten-day stay at Richard’s, and I walk her to the door. We pause just outside the hall to say goodbye.

“Thank you,” I tell her. “I know you don’t like this.”

“Just be careful,” she whispers. “And lock yourself into your room tonight.”

I roll my eyes.

“Promise,” she insists.

“I promise.”

“All right.” Blair hugs me. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll keep my phone on.”

“I will, but I’m sure it won’t be necessary.”

We hug again, and then I watch her go until she disappears inside the elevator.

So! Time to enjoy my first cozy evening with my fake boyfriend.

Filled with trepidation, I push the door open and walk back into my apartment.

Six

The Twelve Days of Christmas

Inside, Diego is standing in the living room, looking around as if he’s afraid to touch anything.

“So that went well,” I say sarcastically, shutting the door behind me.

“Are all your friends that feisty?” he asks.

“Forgive Blair, it’s my fault. I totally blindsided her with”—I wiggle a finger between us—“this. Told her you were moving in only an hour ago.”

“Smooth.”

“Well,” I snap. “Buying a boyfriend wasn’t on my Christmas shopping list until a few days ago.” That came out too harsh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just that this whole situation is stressful for me, too. Can we pretend my best friend just told you mi casa es tu casa and move on?”

“Sure.”

“Great. This is a spare set of keys.” I grab it from the cabinet in the hall and hand it to him. “So you can come and go as you like. The blue is for the main door downstairs, and the big one opens this door here. The others, you won’t need.”

“Got it.” Diego stashes the keys away in his jeans pocket.