“No, we hired Diego for the campaign.” A vision of Diego clad only in a white towel flashes before my eyes, and I understand why Blair felt compelled to call me. Diego bare-chested is not an everyday sight. “The moment Angelika Black set eyes on him, it was game over for everybody else.”

“Oh, great.” I’m genuinely happy he got the job, and that, if nothing else, posing as my boyfriend will help his career. I guess one can’t put “played fake boyfriend for a desperate single lady over the holidays” on one’s résumé.

“So…” Blair says suggestively.

“So?”

“You’ve seen what I’ve seen?”

I can picture her waggling her eyebrows.

“Yes, it’s in his portfolio,” I lie. For some reason, I don’t want her to know I had a real-life show. Two, counting the Santa World backstage.

“And?” she insists.

“And nothing.”

“Are you telling me you’re not even tempted?”

“To do what?”

“Oh, come on… You sleep in the candy shop every night, and you want me to believe you’ve never thought of tasting the candies?”

I massage my temples as the first signs of a cat-talent-plus-stupid-questions-from-my-best-friend induced headache start pressing on my skull. “Blair, we’re in a professional agreement. I’m not going to hit on the guy.” As if I had a chance, anyway. No matter what Diego says, guys like him don’t end up with regular women like me.

“Why not? He’s so hot, and he seems like a nice guy; couldn’t you at least have some fun with this crazy pantomime of yours?”

“Why are you suddenly trying to push me into his arms? Only last week you were convinced he was a serial killer.”

“Well…”

I can hear the guilt in her tone.

“Blair, what did you do?”

“Oh, nothing, really. But in order for us to hire him, he had to give us his social security number, and I told you how Richard wanted to meet the guy before we drove home with him… So, he sort of had a PI friend of his run a background check on Diego.”

“You guys didn’t,” I hiss into the mic.

“We did, and you should thank us. Diego is squeaky clean. No criminal record, and his identity checked out. His credit score could be better, but that can be expected of a struggling artist.”

“Oh my gosh.” I close my eyes and intensify the massage. “He won’t find out, will he?”

“I don’t think so. And even if he does, we can always say it’s a standard employee background check we carry out for all new hires.”

“How wonderful,” I say, hoping she’ll catch the sarcasm.

“Stop being such a Scrooge. I just wanted to let you know that I approve.”

“There’s nothing to approve.”

“If you say so. Anyway, that’s not the only reason I called… Richard has booked his flight to London. Do you mind if we leave for home on Sunday instead of Saturday?”

“And skip a day in the torture pit? No, I don’t mind.”