“Good. Because you know I’m not fond of nicknames. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone. William, can you believe that Abigail is dating someone?” her mother called loudly to her father.

“Mom, it’s not a big deal really. It’s only been a few months. I wasn’t even sure I was going to invite her but, well, she’s never had a white Christmas before.” That much was true, at least.

“It’s just such great news, Abigail. I was afraid Holly had scarred you for life. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Okay, then,” she drew out. “I guess I need to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Do drive carefully, honey. I’ll plan a special dinner for the four of us. What’s her favorite meal?”

Oh, good lord. Abby squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t go to any trouble, Mom. Really.”

“Nonsense. What does she like?”

“Um, she likes…hamburgers.”

“Hamburgers? I said a special dinner.”

“She likes chicken, Mom.” Everyone liked chicken, didn’t they? “Do some kind of a chicken dish. Like chicken parmesan or something.”

“Well, I do have a good recipe for that. What kind of vegetables does she like? I normally serve that with steamed broccoli, but not everyone enjoys broccoli. I could—”

“Mom, how about you surprise us? Make whatever you want. I’m going to bed now. Goodnight.”

She disconnected before her mother could protest. She gave an exasperated sigh and put the phone on the nightstand. She punched her pillow a couple of times, then rolled to her side. This was a stupid plan, she thought as she closed her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

No. What would be stupid would be to go alone. Because, yes, she was weak. A stupid plan beat trying to ward off Holly’s advances for ten days. Because, yeah, she’d probably break again, and be humiliated once more. So, a stupid plan with a fake girlfriend it was.

Chapter Thirteen

“What’s your name?”

Nic arched an eyebrow as Abby pulled out of the parking lot of her apartment complex. It was fifteen minutes after four and there were only a handful of cars on the road at this early hour.

“So…it’s Nic. And I think you’re Abby.” She smiled. “Unless something has changed since we last spoke.”

“It’s my mother.”

Nic looked around. “Where?”

Abby laughed. “It’s early. I know I’m not making sense. I had a hard time going to sleep. I think I was still tossing about at eleven. When the alarm went off, I nearly threw my phone across the room.”