“Sure. I mean, I guess so. It’s certainly the most entertaining proposition I’ve ever had. And I’ve had a few.” She tossed a business card her way. “My cell number is on there.”

Abby didn’t know what to say. Should she say thank you? Should she say she’d changed her mind? Had she changed her mind? Or was she really going to go through with this? She glanced at the card, then shoved it into her pocket.

“So…I’m not really sure how this works,” Nic continued. “Do we do a crash course on getting to know each other? Or do we pop in as new girlfriends, so we really aren’t that familiar with each other?” Nic eyed her suspiciously. “Do you have a plan?” She raised an eyebrow. “You do, right? A plan? You have one?”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect you to say yes. So my plan was to go alone and try to avoid Holly and Aaron as much as possible and hope she left me alone.” She mindlessly pulled a chip out of the bag. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She turned the bag toward Nic, offering her some. She took a handful on her first grab.

“Sure, why not? I’ve never had a white Christmas before.”

“You haven’t? We’ve been going to Red River for as long as I can remember. It was my grandparents’ place. It’s a huge mountain lodge and very beautiful. But they wanted to go somewhere warmer, and my parents were…well, they needed a change—they were both in real estate here in Dallas—so they bought the house from them, and the Christmas tradition continued. My grandparents live in Tempe now, and they’ll come up for a few days too.”

“Wow. So the whole family, huh?”

She smiled at her. “Having second thoughts?”

“No, no. I’m good. Always up for a challenge.”

Abby gave an exaggerated smile. “I find alcohol helps. That’s my stress relief while I’m there.”

“Is it that stressful?”

“Yes. Well, ever since the whole Holly thing.” She paused. “Although me and Aaron, we’ve never been warm and fuzzy. There’s always this tension between us. I’m not really a big drinker normally and I don’t know that Aaron is, but for these few days, yeah, we indulge. My mother is all wine, all the time. My father hates wine, so there is always scotch or bourbon. My brother likes beer, but he’ll join my father for a cocktail too. And…” —she paused a beat— “And Holly likes wine too, but margaritas are her favorite. They make her frisky,” she said with a shudder. “Her word, not mine.”

Nic laughed. “I like tequila too. Not a big fan of wine. I may join your father for a cocktail.”

Abby stared at her. “Do you think we can pull this off?”