“Good. I’m pleased for you.” Alix was thrown. She’d prepared herself to listen carefully and thoughtfully to whatever Christy’s problem was. She didn’t want to talk about Zac. She couldn’t wait for the weekend to end so that he could leave. “Stop worrying. It’s all good. We’ll be civilized. I can sit across a table and eat dinner with a guy without him being my favorite person.”

Christy slumped against the wall. “The really frustrating thing is that I always thought the two of you would be great together. Remember the first time you saw him? You said he was the hottest guy you’d ever met.”

“I don’t remember saying that.”

“Well, you did.”

Alix ran her finger around the neck of her sweater. “If I did, then it goes to show you shouldn’t judge on appearances.”

“You and he—” Christy frowned. “There was something, some connection, electricity—”

“Meeting him was a shock, if that’s what you’re saying.”

Christy glanced at her. “So you don’t find him sexy?”

If she said no, would her friend believe her? Probably not. There were some men that all women could recognize as sexy, and Zac was one of those. “He’s not my type.” Could she open a window? “And you still haven’t told me why he is here.”

“I really think you’d like him if you—”

“Can we stop talking about Zac?” She thrust her hand into the cooling water of Holly’s bath and pulled out another toy. “Stop worrying. It’s one dinner. I can get through one dinner without killing him.”

“It isn’t just dinner. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you.” Christy closed the bathroom door and leaned her shoulders against it.

Alix knew what was coming next. She recognized the signs. This was the way Christy behaved when she was gearing up to say something she found difficult. First she always closed the door so that she couldn’t be interrupted. Next would be a couple of deep breaths—yes, there they were—

“Go on, say it.” She perched on the edge of the bath, and the plastic submarine she’d retrieved dripped onto her legs. She wanted to find out what was wrong with her friend.

“I need to talk to you about the trip.”

“What about the trip?” It was always torturous getting Christy to say something she didn’t want to say. Alix reined in her impatience as her friend rescued a damp towel from the floor and hung it on the heated rail, lining it up so that it was perfectly straight.

“When I told Seb you were going on your own with Holly, he was worried.”

“Worried?”

“He thought it wasn’t fair to expect you to handle a child on your own.”

Bullshit, Alix thought. “You mean he doesn’t trust me.”

Christy sat down next to her on the edge of the bath. “It isn’t that. It’s more that he thinks it’ll be too much for you. That it isn’t fair. It’s your holiday, after all. Your Christmas. You didn’t sign up to be a babysitter.”