From December Desire

CHAPTER ONE

MADDIE

“I can’t believe we’re actually here.” After a two-hour flight from Nashville, it’s surreal to finally attend MerryCon—a gathering of holiday film super fans intent on meeting their favorite small-screen celebrities.

And at the top of my list? Calder Mayfield—everyone’s Hallmark crush and all-around good guy judging by the interviews I’ve seen him give.

“Same.” Lola agrees, her pink pixie cut practically glowing with nervous energy. “We’re lucky you snagged the few remaining tickets for the weekend. Can you imagine being stuck at home and seeing everyone else share their pictures? I would’ve died of envy.” A dramatic hand covers her heart as we navigate to the end of Calder’s line once a volunteer admits us into the main arena.

Laughing at my best friend’s theatrics, I crane my neck over a tinsel barrier to gauge how long it’ll be before we reach his booth for photos. The information online recommended fans arrive an hour earlier than MerryCon officially started to ensure an opportunity to meet the famous actor, and after reading disgruntled comments about some fans missing their chance due to time running out, Lola and I made sure to get here as soon as possible.

“How long do you think we’ll have to wait?” I ask a little while later, switching my weight to my other leg. Already my feet are hurting in the cute boots I decided to wear.

“Probably hours with how slow this is moving. Why? Eager to meet Prince Charming?” Lola teases me with her nickname for Calder since he’s played an inordinate number of royal characters in his movies—not to mention the way I’ve idealized him as my dream man.

“Obviously… But at the moment I’m more concerned with my feet’s pain level. I never should’ve worn these boots; it was stupid to think dressing up would catch his attention, especially in the sea of women here.” Familiar insecurity wraps around my heart and squeezes. It’s no secret how shy I am around men, preferring to fade into the background to protect myself from their judgment. As a thirty-year-old virgin whose double-digit jeans size starts with a two, my mind can’t help creating humiliating scenes of rejection from any man I’m interested in.

Calder Mayfield included.

Although it helps knowing nothing could form between us since he’s a celebrity and I’m not. He’ll be polite when I meet him, we’ll take a smiling photo, and I can continue thinking of him as the perfect guy for me until a real one materializes. The only thing I truly fear when it’s my turn to greet him is stammering over my words and looking like a tomato from blushing so fiercely.

“Beauty is pain…” Lola says sagely before patting my arm in encouragement. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Keep imagining the moment when Calder sees you and falls in love. Then it’ll all be worth it. Besides, you know I wouldn’t let you leave the hotel looking anything but hot, so stop sweating these other women. They’ve got nothing on you, girl.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, shooting a grateful glance her way, though I’m still not convinced. We’re both romantics at heart which is why we love these holiday romances from Hallmark, Lifetime, and the Hearts of America Channel or HAC. However, Lola tends to be more optimistic, choosing to believe that the magic of Christmas is on our side. “But enough about me. What about you and Macy Adams? Don’t tell me you’re not feeling nervous about meeting the woman of your dreams.”

“No comment.” Lola crosses her arms defiantly, chin jutting out in challenge, daring me to push the topic. “This is Calder’s line and your moment to shine—not mine.”

Hmm… maybe not as optimistic as I thought.

“Fine, but your time’s coming…” I warn. We had two motives for coming to MerryCon this year: meeting our individual crushes, Calder Mayfield and Macy Adams, and exploring New York City which is an hour’s train ride from here. Calder will be checked off the list soon, then it’ll be Macy’s turn.

As we near the front of the queue, I shrug out of my coat and drape it over my arm, pulling at the sweater dress underneath to relieve some of the heat that’s gathered.

Calm down. Now’s not the time to become a sweaty mess.

The black tights meant as another layer of protection from the weather chafes along my thighs, and my discomfort grows.

Calder’s voice drifts above the crowd, the deep baritone overcoming the chatter and calling every single one of my nerves to attention while glimpses of his smiling face peek through the brief windows of space opened by shifting fans. Classically handsome with golden blonde hair and ice-blue eyes, he exudes an All-American persona that fits perfectly with the characters he plays on Hallmark and Lifetime.

“What’s your name?” A woman in a volunteer shirt steps forward and writes our names on a yellow sticky note before handing it to me and moving on to the next group. Guess this pushes guests through the meet and greet more efficiently if we don’t have to bother with niceties like saying who we are.

When it’s our turn to meet Calder, a wave of nausea kicks me in the gut. I’m overheating—probably flushed from head to toe—while my outfit’s rubbing me in all the wrong places, amping my anxiety up to the max.

What is wrong with me?

He’s just a man. A famous one, but still human. Yet, I’m acting like he’s a mythical creature who won’t forget my name the moment I leave.

“I’ll take your phones, and you can put the rest of your things on that chair before standing by Mr. Mayfield for your photo.” Another volunteer gestures to a spare chair where Lola and I drop our coats and purses.

This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for.

“Hi, Maddie, Lola. It’s nice to meet you!” Calder shakes each of our hands, and an electrical shock shoots up my arm. We both jerk back with awkward laughs, his light eyes crinkling at the corners, while Lola spies from the side, a triumphant look on her face.

Embarrassed, I abruptly apologize before launching into what I’d practiced saying to him. “Thank you for doing this! Your movies are our favorite, especially Love in Hollybrook.”

“Yeah, Maddie loves that one. We’ve watched it too many times to count,” Lola interjects, rolling her eyes exasperatedly.

Like we don’t watch Macy’s Mistletoe Madness just as often…

Calder’s interest centers on me—the force of his full attention rendering me speechless. “Love in Hollybrook? That was one of my first holiday projects for HAC. I didn’t realize they still played it since it’s been so long. I’m impressed you’ve seen it.”

Another blush rises to the surface at his praise, and I surreptitiously brush the back of my hand across my forehead, pretending to swipe at a stray hair. Alarm rushes through me at the slight dampness of sweat. Nauseous, feverish… Have I worked myself into the beginnings of an anxiety attack?

Struggling to slow the chaos erupting in my body, I take a deep, measured breath and force myself to remember that I’m safe—not in danger. Calder’s a man I’ll never see again, so worrying about what to say or how I look isn’t helpful.

Just act normal, take the picture, then you’re done. Safe and sound.

“It’s a clate—I mean great… Sorry, I thought ‘classic’ then ‘great’ and combined them.” A nervous giggle bubbles over before I manage to stammer out a few more words, scrubbing clammy hands over the skirt of my dress. “It’s a cute film. More people should see it.”

Lola’s expression switches from encouragement to concern as she witnesses my crumbling composure. Shooting a pleading glance her way, she steps forward to divert the conversation, but the volunteer motions for us to gather in a line with Calder in the middle. “Sorry to interrupt, but your time is up. We need to snap the photo and usher the next guests in.”

Nodding, I stand to Calder’s right while he wraps an arm around my back, the warm weight hovering over me, so his heat is the only thing touching my body. Like a true gentleman. Crisp pine tickles my nose, and I can’t resist tilting my head closer to breathe it in more deeply—the fresh fragrance comforting, offering clarity to my muddled, anxious mind.

“There you go! You’re all set!” Our phones are returned to us as we retrieve our things, and someone steers us away. With a faint wave of farewell, Lola and I leave Calder behind as he greets another round of fans, though I swear I feel his lingering stare as we exit.

It’s just your imagination.

“Well, that was fun…”

“If you consider standing on the brink of an anxiety attack fun,” I mutter. “I shouldn’t have worked myself into a fit when I knew our meeting wouldn’t be a big deal. It was hardly five minutes!”

Weaving through other celebrities’ lines and various Christmas trees set up around the area, I snag an empty seat at a table in the concessions court, plopping into the metal chair with relief.

“How are you feeling now?” Lola’s brows knit together over her hazel eyes, worry stamped in the grim line of her mouth.

Holiday music plays overhead while a brisk outdoor breeze flows in from a vendor carrying a load of ornaments. Both aid the calming of my nerves as my body begins to settle into a normal rhythm. “Better. Let’s just sit here for a while longer until it fades a bit more.”

“Whatever you need. I’ll just post our pic with Calder so everyone can be jealous.”

Shaking my head at her silliness, I continue counting my breaths. Inhale. One. Exhale. Two. At least I’ve come a long way since starting therapy. Already my body’s reactions are slowing, returning to base level, when before an attack might affect me for an entire day, if not longer.

Taking pride in my progress, I relax in my seat and congratulate myself on surviving the introduction to Calder, too.

Now that we’ve met, my crush is stronger than ever—even if I did briefly botch our conversation. He was every bit as handsome and friendly as I imagined, and with the anxiety symptoms finally fading, I’m free to bask in the memory of actually meeting Calder Mayfield—the Prince Charming of my dreams.

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