“Oh, come on, Dory dear. Only a slice.” He turns the open box toward her tantalizingly. “Get one yourself and relax; it’s Christmas.”

Mom stares at the pizza for a while, indecision clearly written on her features. She’s just reaching for the slice when the door opens again and Julia enters, saying, “Nik, do you know where everyone went?”

We all freeze, caught in the act.

Julia takes in the scene, and her jaw drops just before her eyes go all watery. “If you didn’t like dinner, you could’ve said so,” she wails dramatically. Then her gaze narrows on Mom, who’s standing immobile, arm still stretched forward, reaching for the box. “I could’ve expected it from them.” Julia points at me and my dad. “But I hoped for better from you.” Then she turns toward Paul, points an accusing finger at him, and hisses, “And you.”

With that, she turns on her heel and flees the room. Mom retracts her arm and runs after her. “Julia, baby… Wait.”

Paul, on the other hand, shrugs and serenely finishes his slice. “She’ll get over it,” he reassures us, before going after his fiancée.

Dad, equally nonplussed, says, “Well, since we’ve been busted, I can go finish this downstairs.” And he, too, leaves, bringing the pizza box with him.

“So,” Blair says, when it’s only the three of us left in the room—five, counting pets. “I guess it’s been a regular day in the Moore family and no one suspects anything.”

“Pretty much,” I confirm. “What about you? How were your parents?”

We complain about our respective families for another hour or so, before Blair lets out a very loud yawn. “Sorry, guys. I’m beat. Time to go home.”

“I’ll walk you downstairs,” I say.

She and Diego say goodnight while I check the hallway to make sure my sister isn’t around. I know she’ll make me pay for the pizza stunt, and I’m not looking forward to the moment she’ll decide to take her revenge. Luckily, she seems to have already retired to bed, and Blair and I don’t meet anyone on our way to the front door.

“How much do I owe you for the pizzas?” I ask, unhooking my bag from the entrance rack.

“Oh, please. Pizza’s on me tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Good night, honey. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

We exchange a quick hug, and I’m about to draw away when she pulls me back in to whisper in my ear, “Oh, and enjoy your first night in bed with Diego.” There’s plenty of mischief in her voice.

“Blair,” I hiss, outraged. “It’s not like that.”

“I’m just saying that if your hands happened to wander a little under the sheets in the middle of the night, no one could really blame you.”

“Only sue me for sexual harassment.”