Bad Romeo Christmas

  When Cassie's casserole gets to me, I load up my plate. Maybe if I take most of it, there won't be any left for the others.

  "Hey," Elissa says. "Stop bogarting the beans. You know they're one of my faves."

  I reluctantly hand over the bowl. Elissa takes a generous serving before giving it to Josh.

  "Looks great," he says. "We all know my version of cooking involves reheating takeout, so I always look forward to a Holt banquet. You guys make my stomach happy."

  I cringe when he spoons three large portions of beans onto his plate. I'm guessing a stomach pump isn't on Josh's Christmas list, but after tonight, that might change.

  "So, what's new, kids?" Dad says as the beans make their way down to him. "Tell us all about what's going on."

  Elissa clears her throat. "Well, I have some news. Although I don't think Ethan and Cassie will like it."

  Everyone stops what they're doing to look at her. She sits up a little straighter and shares a look with Josh. "A few weeks ago, Marco asked if I'd be interested in coming on board his new project, a modern retelling of The Taming of the Shrew. I said yes."

  Cassie looks disappointed. "Wait, so you're leaving us? Our show?"

  Elissa nods. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I've loved working with you guys, but now the show’s settled, I need more of a challenge. I've recommended Talia Shapiro to take over as stage manager."

  A flash of anxiety hits me. It's been four years since I've performed in a show not run by my sister, and I guess I’ve gotten used to having her there. Of course, I’m not enough of an asshole to deny that she should spread her wings and move on, so even though I'll miss seeing her every day, I'm glad her career is flourishing.

  "Congrats, little sister," I say. "That's fantastic news."

  She looks at me expectantly. "That's it? No arguing? No trying to change my mind?"

  I smile. "Nope. I think you've made the right decision. Sounds like a great opportunity."

  Elissa exhales in relief. "Oh, thank God. I thought for sure I'd have a fight on my hands. And you're right. It's an amazing offer. Plus, I finally get to work with Josh again. He's on board as my assistant stage manager."

  Josh puts his hands in the air. "The dream team is back together. Hollah, bitches." He immediately looks contrite. "Sorry, Maggie. You're not a bitch. You're delightful." He catches my dad out the corner of his eye. "You, too, Charles. Elder Holts are exempt from hollering."

  Mom smiles at him and places her hand over Elissa's. "Well, I'm thrilled you and Josh are working together again. The show sounds great. When do you start?"

  "In February. Plenty of time to train someone to replace me."

  Cassie sighs. "Well, I hate the idea of losing you, but if you insist on being all selfish and popular, I guess I'll admit it's a great opportunity. Who are they getting for Kate and Pertruchio?"

  Elissa goes pale and takes a quick sip of wine. "Uh, actually, that's a big secret, but I guess it's okay to tell you guys. We found out yesterday they've secured two of the biggest movie stars in the world for the lead roles. Angel Bell and ... uh ... Liam Quinn."

  "Quinn?" I say. "Really? Wow."

  Cassie's mouth drops open. "Wait, Liam set-my-panties-aflame-with-his-hotness Quinn is your star? Are you kidding me?"

  "Hey," I say and grab her thigh beneath the table. "Husband-to-be, sitting right here."

  She waves me off. "Oh, please. Your hotness leaves Liam Quinn for dead, but he's still a veeery attractive man."

  Elissa shrugs and drinks more wine. "If you say so."

  She's not fooling anyone, least of all me. I remember how she and Quinn had some sort of doe-eyed mutual appreciation society going on when we were all doing Romeo and Juliet for the Tribeca Shakespeare Festival six years ago. Back then, I was Mercutio and Quinn was Romeo. That was the year before a certain brown-haired actress showed up at the auditions for The Grove and upended my entire world. So, yeah, even though Quinn moved out to L.A. and ended up becoming a megastar who now commands millions of dollars per movie, considering how everything turned out with Cassie, I figure I got the better deal.

  "Wow," Cassie says. "I can't believe they got Hollywood's golden couple to do Broadway. Surely their schedule is jam-packed with looking fabulous and showing off their perfect love. I wonder if one of the producers had to sell a kidney to afford their fees."

  Elissa shrugs. "Probably. But they're predicting their combined star power will break all box office records, so I guess they'll earn it all back."

  "As long as Angel doesn't fall in love with me at first sight and break up with Quinn, of course," Josh says before tearing into a bread roll.

  Elissa smiles at him and shakes her head. "Yeah, that's a real danger. Maybe I should make you wear a bag over your pretty face to prevent that from happening."

  Josh puts his arm on the back of her chair and leans forward. "You honestly think a little paper will protect her from the power of all of this?" He gestures to himself. "You're dreaming, lady. I mean, I'll try not to break up one of the most popular couples in the history of Hollywood, but I can't promise anything. The heart wants what it wants, and I predict Angel Bell's heart wants a hot-geek assistant stage manager who can recite the Gettysburg address in Klingon if he's had enough booze."

  Elissa suppresses a laugh. "Of course she does. It's every girl's dream."

  Josh glares at her. "The sarcasm is hurtful, Lissa. Hurtful and unnecessary. Bah humbug to you, too."

  Now, everyone laughs, and I'm touched to see how Cassie gazes at my sister with clear adoration. Even when Cassie hated my guts she loved my sister, and Elissa couldn't be happier that one of her best friends is going to become her sister-in-law.

  "Well, little sister," I say and raise my glass. "Congrats on the new job. I hope you have a great time; even though looking at Quinn's ugly mug every day will probably make you sick to your stomach."

  She blushes and gives me a small smile. Considering my sister hardly ever blushes, I'd say that rehearsal process with her and Liam is going to be as entertaining as hell.

  "To Elissa and Josh, and their new endeavor," my dad says as we all toast. "And merry Christmas to all Holts." He gestures to Josh and Cassie. "Especially those who are honorary, or Holts-to-be."

  Beneath the table, Cassie takes my hand, and I squeeze it. I get a strange sense of possession every time I think about her being my wife. It's not some sort of douchey sense of entitlement. More like a manifestation of what we've always known to be true: we belong to each other. I don't need to stand up in front of my friends and family to confirm that, but I want to. Considering I was the guy who used to believe that true love was a ridiculous concept, it's important for me to show just how much Cassie has changed my life.

  We all chat quietly as we eat, but in an effort to protect Cassie from the inevitable backlash over her cooking, I make sure to keep an eye on what everyone is putting in his or her mouth. Unfortunately, Mom gets to the beans first. If anyone is going to be brutally honest, it's her.

  I hold my breath when she takes a mouthful. She chews for a few seconds before her eyes go wide. Then she swallows and moans in what I can only assume is pain.

  God, I'm a terrible son. I should have saved her from this torture.

  "Ethan, that green bean casserole is—" There's a slight groan in her voice.

  Dammit, she's going to say it's disgusting. Cassie will be heartbroken.

  "Mom, wait –"

  "-- absolutely delicious." She beams at me. "Much better than you usually make."

  For a moment, I swear I've misheard. "Uh ... what?"

  Mom eats some more, and then everyone is scooping the beans into their mouths, and I'm sure this is what it feels like to be in a horror movie, because I have no doubt that in about thirty seconds, they're all going to go full Linda Blair in The Exorcist.

  "Wow," Elissa says as her eyes roll back into her head. "So good!"

  "Absolutely," my dad agrees. "Restaurant quality."

  Even Josh moa
ns in pleasure. "Dude. Forget Angel Bell. I'm marrying this casserole. That's legal in New York, right?"

  What the hell? I tried that casserole before we left Cassie's place. It tasted like the unholy love child of thousand-year-old-eggs and congealed grease. Actually, that's not fair. Certain types of congealed grease are tasty. That casserole was like a pile of boiled Odor Eaters, topped with slivered almonds. At least, I hope to God they were almonds.

  I look around at the four faces currently smiling in rapture over Cassie's dish. Could I have been wrong about her cooking this whole time? Maybe Cassie is actually a genius chef, but my peasant taste buds are just too basic to recognize it.

  I scoop some casserole into my mouth to test the theory.

  As soon as I start chewing, the flavor hits me. Sautéed mushrooms, beautifully breadcrumbed onions, beans cooked to perfection and bursting with some sort of tangy deliciousness I can't place.

  "Jesus," I mumble. "What the hell?" I turn to Cassie, who's smiling smugly. "You made this?"

  She shrugs. "Like cooking is hard or something?"

  "But, I tasted it before we left. It was the worst thing I've ever had in my mouth, and that's coming from the man who had to endure Zoe Stevens' tongue on more than one occasion."

  She laughs. "Well, what you ate earlier was an especially bad version I made so I could see the look on your face. You don't think I knew how much you hated my cooking? Please. Your distaste was about as subtle as a gorilla with a hangover. So, for the past few weeks, whenever you thought I was going to yoga with Tristan, I was actually coming here and having cooking lessons with your mom. She taught me how to make the perfect green bean casserole over a week ago. I came around yesterday, and we made this one for tonight. Pretty yummy, right?"

  I feel myself tensing as that information sinks in. "So, the one I tasted this afternoon was –"

  "A decoy. As were all the others you've had to endure over the past week. I'd feel bad, but sweetie, your face as you tried to hide how bad they were? I mean, those were some Oscar-winning performances, right there."

  Snickers echo around the table as heat runs up my neck. I can't figure out if I'm furious or more turned on than I've ever been in my life.

  "You made me eat terrible food as a joke?" I put down my knife and fork and stare at her.

  Whatever she sees on my face makes her smile fade. "Uh ... well, it seemed funny at the time. Now, not so much."

  "Swapping sugar for salt?"

  "Honest mistake." She leans away from me and lowers her voice. "The first time."

  "And all the other times?"

  She cringes. "Comedy gold?"

  I turn to my mother, who's watching with amusement. "And you," I say. "You were in on this? You swapped out her horror casserole just to mess with me?"

  Mom gives me a warm smile. "Oh, sweetie, it was just a bit of harmless fun."

  "Harmless?" I say, my voice rising. "Did you eat any of her food?"

  She screws up her face. "Oh, God, no. The smell alone made my stomach scream and run for cover."

  My dad stands to refill our wine glasses. "Should I have any idea what's going on right now?"

  "Just torturing, Ethan, honey," Mom says. "You know, for giggles."

  I run my fingers through my hair and exhale. Evil goddamn women. If they continue to gang up on me when we're married, I'm in for a world of hurt.

  "Wait a minute," Elissa says, staring warily at her plate. "Cassie cooked the beans?" She looks at me in panic. "Why the hell didn't you warn me? Do you want me to die? Because I've eaten her cooking before. It could happen."

  Cassie's mouth drops open. "Hey! Not cool. Not untrue but not cool."

  "Babe," Elissa says, "you know I love you, but in college you served me chicken that was black on the outside and raw on the inside. I'm lucky I didn't end up in the emergency room. I'm just saying that your food should come with a warning label. Like, Consume at your own risk, or Stomach hazard ahead. Informed choices and all that."

  "Well, technically," Cassie says, "it doesn't need a label, because your mom cooked most of it. She made all the individual parts, and then I mixed them together. Maggie says that mixing is one of my strongest culinary talents. That and opening packages."

  "You're amazing at that," Mom adds in her usual helpful way.

  Cassie smiles. "Look, I know I'll never be a great chef, but at least I'm trying, right? And even if I didn't technically cook the beans, I still get credit for the joke."

  Josh piles more beans onto his plate. "Well, I don't care if the Flying Spaghetti Monster cooked these. They're my life now, so if you could all keep it down, we'd like some alone time."

  ···

  After a few more minutes of dinner conversation, The Great Green Bean Casserole Sting has been forgotten, and we're all back to enjoying the feast.

  As Mom and Dad talk with Elissa and Josh about their new show, Cassie puts her hand on my thigh and leans over.

  "Sooooo." She gives me a nervous smile. "On a scale of one to the Red Room of Pain, how much do you want to punish me right now?"

  I take a sip of wine. "Oh, you broke the scale, lady. It's a tangled mess on the floor."

  Her fingers tighten on my thigh before traveling closer to my crotch. "But it wasn't all bad, was it? I mean, I made up for all of the horrible food by rewarding you with ..." Her hand moves higher. "You know ... dessert. Right?"

  I'm flooded with memories of her spread open in front of me, her sweetness on my tongue. I clear my throat as ninety percent of the blood in my body rushes to my cock. "So, are you saying that if you hadn't tricked me into eating Satan's leftovers, you wouldn't have given me ... dessert?" I raise my eyebrow. "Seems to me that would have been foolish, considering you got just as much out of those dining sessions as I did. If not more."

  She stares at my mouth and licks her lips. "Well, yes, you are very good at dining. Like, crazy good. If you ever failed as an actor, you could become a professional diner. Which leads me to ask, are you planning on having dessert later?"

  Before I can answer, my mother chimes in. "Really, Cassie, you have to ask? Have you met my son? He eats dessert every chance he gets. If he could get away with it, he'd have it three meals a day for the rest of his life. The boy is insatiable."

  Cassie blushes and smiles to herself. "I've noticed." When Mom goes back to her Elissa discussion, Cassie whispers, "And that's why your son is the hottest man on the planet."

  Her fingers are now dangerously close to the painful hardness in my crotch, and it's all I can do to stop myself from grabbing her hand and pressing it against me. I clench my jaw while trying to think of something else. Anything but how incredible it would feel right now to tear off her panties and slide myself inside her tight, warm –"

  "Earth to Ethan."

  "Huh?" I look over to see Elissa staring at me.

  "I asked if you and Cassie have had a chance to look at that list of reception venues I sent. If we want to lock down a good place, we'll have to book ASAP. Most of them are snapped up twelve months in advance."

  I wipe my mouth with my napkin, in case of accidental drool, and shift in my chair. "Ah, yeah. We've seen a few. We like The Roof Garden the best so far. Spectacular views, and the menu seems great."

  "Cool. Well, let me know as soon as you've decided, and I'll adjust my to-do list."

  I almost laugh. I've seen her to-do list. It's a three-ring binder as thick as a telephone book, with more color-coded tabs than I care to count. Knowing Elissa, this will be the most efficiently managed wedding in the history of ever.

  We chat more about the wedding as we finish our dinner, and even though Mom keeps it together, I notice her go quiet and blink a lot. I'm not surprised. This is a woman who bawls her eyes out watching the finale of The Bachelor, for God's sake. I can only imagine how intense her reaction will be when she witnesses her first-born marrying his one true love. Maybe I should warn St. Patrick's to have some life preservers on hand in case her tears flood the ch
urch.

  "Everyone had enough to eat?" she asks as she swipes her cheeks with her napkin. "There's plenty of turkey left if you want seconds."

  Josh leans back in his chair and rubs his stomach. "Maggie, if I eat one more mouthful, you'll be finding pieces of me all over the dining room. But thanks for an awesome meal. Your daughter hasn't cooked for me in weeks."

  "I cooked for you last night," Elissa says. "You licked your plate and made a crack about not having to wash up, remember? Then I punched you in the arm for being gross and made you wash up."

  "Oh, yeah," Josh says. "How could I forget such a sexually charged exchange?" He whispers to Dad, "It's kind of embarrassing how much she wants me, right? It must make you uncomfortable to have her flirt so brazenly right under your nose."

  Dad claps him on the shoulder. "I'm mortified. Now, who wants some more wine before we tackle dessert?" Everyone puts up their hands. Thank God we all took cabs.

  My phone buzzes with a text. I ignore it. Then it buzzes a second time, and a third.

  With a sigh, I grab my phone and subtly check it beneath the table.

 

  There was another message, followed by a picture.

  Jesus.

 

  I take my time to tap out a long and extensive reply, and when I look up, I notice Cassie's frowning at me.

  "Marco again?"

  "Uh ... yeah. He gets so needy at this time of year."

  She nods and goes back to the conversation, but I can see she's tense. She suspects something.

  I make a mental note to level with her as soon as we get home. It's only a matter of time before she sees right through me anyway. I guess I'll have to 'fess up and face the music, even if it's something she doesn't want to hear.

  FOUR

  Cassie