Mistletoe Kisses

One “What the hell is this?” Shannon had to step back to see the tabloid Chris thrust in her face. When he shoved it at her again, she snatched it and pushed past him through the front door into his house. She strode into the kitchen and dropped the paper on the counter. He followed and leaned back against the island with his arms folded tightly across his chest and a dark scowl pinching the features of his usually handsome face. She had hoped he would see the article for what it was. Outright lies. As she noted the fury snapping in his rich green eyes, it was obvious her hope was misplaced. She lowered her gaze to the cover of the tabloid. There it was, her first brush with the darker side of fame. Three years she’d been acting and singing on stage without a single hint of scandal, and now, less than a week after being offered a role in a movie, the media had targeted her. The title proclaimed, Quid pro quo? Theatre insider claims actress/singer Shannon O’Neil offered part in film after affair with producer Kevin McNamara. Shannon shrugged out of her jacket, hung it on the peg by the pantry, and walked over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water with methodical movements. “Are you going to answer me?” Chris asked. “Not when you’re acting like this.” “How should I act, Shannon?” “You actually believe that?” She jabbed the bottle toward the tabloid. “It’s pretty damning, don’t you think? I used to think you were this sweet, innocent girl, but now I know you’re just a lying, cheating whore.” She jerked back and stared at him. She was a what? Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her features. Getting defensive would only make this worse. “Can we talk about this when you’ve had time to calm down and think and realize it’s a fabrication?” “I’ve been thinking about it all day, Shannon, and a lot of things are starting to make sense. Like how an entirely unknown high school music and drama teacher was miraculously offered a starring role in a musical.” “The director was a friend of my drama professor. You know that, Chris.” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “No, not one starring role. Role after starring role. There are a lot of things I’ve been willing to overlook, but I can’t forgive this.” “Forgive what, Chris? It’s not true! They took a picture at the exact right time to make it look like something it wasn’t, and then they wrote a lie about it. And what things are you willing to over look? There is nothing.” “How about your obsession with that Montana college football team? I always wondered if there was something more to it than what you told me. You’ve got a thing for the quarterback, don’t you? The blond kid—your brother’s friend. And let’s not forget that kiss with your friend Ty when we visited your brother for Christmas that year. Oh, no, we can’t leave that out. That’s the most damning one because I saw it with my own eyes. Makes me wonder what you do on your solo trips out to Montana, you little slut.” “Oh, for crying out loud, Chris! Luke is a friend of my family’s and that kiss with Ty under the mistletoe was two years ago.” Tumultuous anger and helplessness trembled through her, threatening to break free. Why didn’t he believe her? “It meant nothing. I apologized for it, and Ty apologized for it.” “Nothing? I know what I saw, Shannon. And your face and your eyes right now confirm it.” Her hand twitched, wanting to slap that smug sneer off his face. Tears burned her eyes, but flaring anger held them back. “It was an accident. He didn’t mean to—” “Bullshit, Shannon.” “Three things,” she said. Her voice cracked. “Three misconceptions. That’s all you can come up with and you call me a s**t?” “That’s more than I need to come up with. More than I should be able to come up with. You slept with another man. A married man at that.” He let go of her gaze for a moment to stare into the distance. The muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. Finally, he returned his eyes to her and said very softly, “Get out of my house.” “Chris, please don’t do this.” “I said… get out of my house. I’m done with you.” “Can we please talk about this?” “There’s nothing more to talk about.” “Yes, there is. You’re being a jealous a*s and there’s no reason at all for you to be jealous.” “I am well over being jealous. Please leave.” The quiet, firm resolve with which he spoke those final words cut more deeply than any amount of railing fury could have. “I hope you feel like crap when you realize how wrong you are.” With her tears spilling over, Shannon yanked her coat off the rack and ran to the front door without looking back. She slammed the door behind her as she stepped back out into the black November night. Rain pelted her as she dashed to her car, but she didn’t care. It was as if the sky was crying with her. She and Chris had planned to have a quiet, romantic dinner after her meeting with her agent. Instead, the tabloid had been waiting for her when she’d walked into Macie’s sleek office overlooking the Seattle waterfront. How she had missed it after spending all day in the mall with her mom doing a little early Christmas shopping, she had no idea, but she had, and seeing herself on the cover had taken the wind out of her. She recalled falling into the cushy chair across the desk from Macie, unable to take her eyes off the image or the headline. Macie didn’t believe it and said she was already in damage control mode, but Shannon had barely heard her agent’s voice. Her first thought had been of Chris and of what he would think. With the naïveté she still somehow managed to cling to, she had believed he loved her enough to trust her and to know it was all a hideous fallacy, but there had been a voice in the back of her mind that remembered how he’d reacted to the way Ty Evans had kissed her in Northstar. The memory of that kiss was, two years later, still as sharp as if it had happened this morning. “Come on, Shy Eyes, it’s my birthday. And look,” Ty had said. “We’re standing under the mistletoe. You have to kiss me.” Sure enough, hanging from the branded beam in the restaurant of her brother and sister-in-law’s inn was a sprig of mistletoe. She had intended to give him only a simple kiss on the cheek, between friends, but he’d turned his face at the last second, and rather than stubble-roughened cheek, she’d met with soft, seeking lips. She had meant to pull away and teasingly chastise him, but instead she’d lingered, intrigued and surprised by the flare of heat and the way her heart had jumped erratically in her chest. When they’d pulled apart moments later, she’d caught a brief glimpse of vulnerability and desire in his blue eyes that ignited a thousand questions she didn’t dare answer. To search for the answers might have changed their friendship, added a jarring awkwardness to what had—until that moment—been among the easiest, most uncomplicated relationships in her life. Chris had returned from the restroom just in time to see the kiss. He’d been angry at first, but fury had soon slipped into sulking jealousy. Ty had apologized the next day, saying that he’d had a little too much to drink that night—a lie. Ty didn’t drink, but Shannon didn’t figure it would be wise to mention that. Chris had acted like he was appeased, and she had thought he had forgiven the incident. Clearly not. Tonight was not the first time he’d brought it up, either. He’d mentioned it a couple times to guilt her into forgoing an evening out with Kevin and Macie and few other friends and calling off the solo trip to see Pat and Aelissm she had planned to make this spring. Shannon momentarily thought of her brother’s deceased ex-fiancée. The fact that she was even remotely reminded of that manipulative, abusive b***h was enough to stop her tears. If Chris didn’t believe her and if he wouldn’t give her the chance to prove her innocence, she had no room in her life for him. It was sure to be more easily vowed than upheld, but even that temporary resolution was better than nothing. When she pulled into the ferry terminal and parked to wait for the next boat to Bainbridge Island, she picked up the copy of the tabloid she’d left sitting on the passenger seat. The article was accompanied by a picture of her with Kevin McNamara, a good friend of the man who had directed five of the seven plays in which she’d starred. She’d hit it off immediately with the wealthy theatre and film producer and counted him among her close friends, but the idea that they’d had an affair was preposterous. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell Chris or anyone else why because it wasn’t her secret to tell, and he probably wouldn’t believe her even if it were; he’d never liked Kevin, whose touchy-feely tendencies added brevity to the story. She sighed. The photograph was almost a month old and showed her and Kevin embracing outside the theatre after the overwhelmingly successful opening night of their most recent production. He had kissed her on the cheek, but the photographer had snapped the shot half a moment before, and with the angle and poor lighting, it looked like Kevin was going in for a full-on-the-mouth kiss. The caption below it read, Silver-voiced Shannon O’Neil and philanthropist theatre and film mogul Kevin McNamara stealing a quick kiss after the sold-out opening performance of “Stars Over Seattle.” “They can all rot,” she muttered, dropping the tabloid onto the passenger seat with the cover down so she couldn’t see it. She choked on a renewed threat of tears. She pushed the article and every other thought out of her mind for the time being. The gentle rolling of the ferry as it crossed the stormy Puget Sound was soothing, and she let herself be lulled into a half-sleeping stupor. Disinclined to be around any people at all, she took the less traveled, winding rural roads home to Kingston, and the darkness was as calming as the ferry ride had been. The peace she found lasted until she parked in front of her house. She climbed the stairs, and after she stepped inside, she leaned against the closed door for a moment. “You’re home early,” her roommate remarked from her customary reading bench beside the big bay window overlooking the harbor. “Yeah,” Shannon replied and tossed the tabloid at her friend. “I already saw this. I’m assuming Chris took it like an asshole.” “That’s one way to put it.” “Then he doesn’t deserve you.” “Thanks.” Shannon wandered into the kitchen. She should eat something, even if she only heated up leftovers. Not that she was hungry. Celeste joined her and regarded her with worried brown eyes that reminded Shannon of a doe. “You all right?” “I don’t know what I am. My boyfriend of three years just broke up with me over a lie. I know I should either be angry or heartbroken or something, but right now, I just feel… empty.” “Oh, honey.” Celeste hugged her. “Well, this might cheer you up. Your brother called about twenty minutes ago.” The corner of Shannon’s lips lifted in a hint of a smile. She could use a trip to Northstar right now, even if she only visited in her mind. So, while Celeste set about cooking dinner for them both, Shannon took the cordless into the living room and dialed her brother’s number. “I didn’t expect you to call me back so quickly,” came Pat’s cherished voice. “How are you?” There was a note of concern in his voice that told her he wasn’t making a general inquiry, which meant he knew about the article. Their parents must have called him and told him already. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” “Aelissm wanted me to tell you to kick the writers of the article in the balls if you get the chance. I tend to agree with her.”