IMAGINES: Celebrity Encounters Starring You (71 page)

Following your shower, you got dressed and headed to the kitchen. As you predicted, the next heart was sitting beside a large candy dish filled with Hershey’s Kisses. How yummy! You weren’t in too much of a rush to redeem the clue. You were loving the mystery your husband was spinning.

When your stomach started growling, you realized you should probably stop with the chocolate and eat something real instead. You prepared some cereal and then reached for the lilac heart.

Your third clue: You have the key to my heart. You will find your keys at the keys.

Bouncing your eyes behind you, you stretched your neck to look into the family room.

You read the clue over:
You will find your keys at the keys
. “The piano.”

You stacked all your hearts and picked up your cereal bowl, smiling at his cleverness. “He’s good at this.”

Feeling the soft tickles on your ankles, you looked down to see your kitten, Snow. “Daddy is sending me on a scavenger hunt,” you told her. She looked up to you, meowing. You reached down to pet her. “I see he fed you before he ditched me.” She purred against your touch. “Come on. Let’s get the next clue.”

At the discovery of a blue heart lying on the white Suzuki grand piano, you pumped your fist in the air. Snow leaped on the cushioned bench as you read,
Did you think you were going to stay in the house all day? Not today, baby. It’s time for you to put in some work. Your fourth clue: You get my engine going. The dimples in your cheeks drive me crazy. ;)

That’s pretty easy. To the garage you ventured. Opening the door, you were immediately greeted with various cars. Oh, boy. You hoped he didn’t stow the clue in one of their glove compartments. You didn’t want to be diving in and out of cars for the next thirty minutes.

Doesn’t he know that when you’re excited you start tearing stuff up? Yes, you will rip these cars to pieces in search of your heart. You strolled around the cars, hoping it was in the open, on a front seat or something. After a minute of searching, you picked up the pace, growing more anxious to find it. Where was it?

“Aw!” Your hand slapped over your chest.

Finally, you saw a heart on one of the cars’ hood. It was a matte black G-Wagen emblazoned with a huge pink bow. Cruising over to it, you could say there was pep in your step.

“Did he seriously?” you nearly squealed as you carefully removed the bow. An orange heart fell to the ground. Retrieving it, you flipped it over to read.

I saw how your eyes lit up when you saw this ride a couple of weeks ago. Now, let’s travel back in time and relive some of the most memorable milestones of our relationship. I hope your memory is as good as mine. Give me a call for your fifth clue. I want to hear your voice. ;)

“He is something else.” To get your clue you patted your pockets for your phone, dialed his number, and tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder. Playing with your keys as the phone rang, you realized there was an extra one.

“Hell yeah,” you said, and stuck it in the lock of the new car and opened the door.

“You miss me?” Justin toyed over the phone.

You climbed in the car. “You’re a little trickster, huh?” Finding the garage opener on the visor, you clicked it and watched the door open behind you.

“You’re a smart one, huh?”

You smiled. “I’ve been told. This is fun, babe.”

“Do you like your new car?”

“I love it, but I miss you. Please don’t tell me I have a million more hearts to find in order to get to you.”

“You have a million and one left. It may take you forever and a day.”

“Justin
Bieber
!” you whined.

“You said you were having fun.”

You gave one small kick of a tantrum at his playful ways. “I am. Give me my fifth clue so I can see you.”

You started the car. Oh, that was a nice sound.

“Can you see me?” he asked, making you sigh.

Why is he playing so many games? You know he’s nowhere near you. Did he want you to look around like an idiot? You peered over your shoulder, looking out the rear window like . . . an idiot. “I don’t know where you are, but I know you’re nowhere near home.”

“Your next clue can be found where we first laid eyes on each other.”

“Justin—” You were met with the click of his phone hanging up. This guy was going to drive you insane. Did he just hang up on you? You couldn’t help but laugh at his rudeness.

AS YOU DROVE,
you floated into a daydream.

It had been a chilly winter night in Southern California. You’d returned home from college just a couple of days before for the holiday season. Vacation had taken a huge weight off your shoulders, no more staying up all night to study, drooling over your desk in the morning, and stressing the long, life-determining finals. Your mom and dad welcomed you home with open arms at the airport. You’d only been away from home for a few short months and had chatted with them over FaceTime, but this was the longest you’d gone without holding them. Nothing beats the loving acceptance of your family.

Sure enough, your parents had immediately begun asking about your flight, school, and your friends. Standard, but you were blindsided with the next question:

“How’s your boyfriend?” your father asked.

Sitting in the backseat in his car, your eyes widened at the question. What was he talking about? Who was spreading lies about you?

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Dad.” You stuffed your iPod into your teal backpack.

“You told me she had a boyfriend,” he said to your mom.

“I told you that I didn’t know if she had a boyfriend and you said, ‘I’m sure she does,’ ” she said defensively.

You sat back in your seat shaking your head. Why were they talking about your nonexistent love life? Don’t they have anything better to do?

It was your first year of college. You were trying to adapt to being away from home. You were trying to get used to the heavy study hours, not to mention your job. It had been tough for you to squeeze in time with your friends. You couldn’t have balanced a relationship at that point, even though cute guys roamed all over campus. It was easy to get distracted, but you couldn’t afford it. Your friends were different, but you’re not going to say names.

Dear Parents: Overthinking and jumping to conclusions will get you in trouble. —Sincerely, Your Children.

The next day you just wanted to relax, but your mom had other plans for you.

“Mom, are you sure you want me to go to this Christmas party?” you asked as you zipped up your sequined champagne cami dress.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” your mom said from the other side of the bathroom door, even though she couldn’t see you. You were trying to hurry and finish up so you could see what she was rocking for the evening. “And, yes, I want you to go with me, because your father had to work tonight. I didn’t want to go to Pattie’s party all by myself. My friend Pattie. You’re always away. It’s good to have you home for Christmas break. I miss having you around, but I’m very proud of you.”

Her saying that made all your hard work feel worth it. “College is kicking my tail. It’s so good to be home.” You secured your chandelier diamond earrings. Let’s hope you’re not looking too glam. You don’t do this every day.

Pulling small, curly strands out of your curled ponytail, you framed your face and then opened the door, asking your mother, “This isn’t too much, right?”

“It’s the holidays. It’s okay to be extra.” She was wearing a nice flowing red gown. It wasn’t too over the top but was a comfortable silky material that you could play up with jewelry to
make look glamorous. Peeking out at the bottom were diamond-studded heels.

Look at this gorgeous woman, my mom,
you thought. “You look gorgeous, Mom.” You adored her.

“Where did you think you got your looks from?” She struck a model pose for you. Of all the times not to have your phone.

“I know.” You smiled, trying to complete your finishing touches. Finally you reached for your clutch. “Are you ready?”

She fixed the gold watch clinging to her wrist. “Ready when you are.” She stepped out. You followed her, flicking the bathroom light off. Inspecting your bare feet, you just knew she was going to dress them in something troubling.

“I’m going to wear flats—”

“No, heels,” she firmly suggested.

Um, what?
“Mom!”

“You may see someone there. I may have someone I want you to meet.” She winked as you stood back, confused. What did your mom have up her tailored sleeves?

“There’re plenty of heels in my closet. Choose whatever you like,” she directed.

With a huff, you frowned at her.

“Go!” She clapped her hands. “I don’t want to show up too late.”

NO, CALIFORNIA CANNOT
boast Christmases with blankets of snow, but don’t underestimate our ability to celebrate the Christmas spirit, particularly with its love of Christmas music. Who needs snow, anyway? you figure.

When you and your mom arrived at the party, you were blown away by the house’s decorations. You were certain that no children lived in the home, given there weren’t any inflatable
Santas, reindeer, or Christmas trees. The embellishments outside the home were more elegant: gold lights spiraled up the columns, two huge green wreaths decked the double wooden doors, and hanging in the middle of them were golden bows.

You admired the neighborhood as you closed your car door and waited for your mom to come around. As she lifted her gown over the curb, you went over to her and took her arm, assuring her safety. Strutting up the pathway, you followed an older, slower couple ahead of you. Once you were inside the home, a giant pine Christmas tree was the first accessory to abduct your attention. The many lights and various-size ornaments had a cozy vibe. One ornament in particular stood out to you: an impish elf in a green outfit. It looked family-made. It was no wonder that the elf was near the top. You knew the piece meant the most to the family. You smiled at the gem.

A properly dressed man came to your assistance. “May I take your jackets?”

“Yes, thank you.” You shrugged out of yours and handed it to him with a thankful smile. It would make no sense to cover your eye-catching dress. On cue, eyes began to bounce your way. Clearing your throat for comfort, you turned to your mom, avoiding the stares.

To one side, a fireplace blazed behind a gorgeous black screen. The overall lighting in the room wasn’t bright, which you loved, and felt comfortable and relaxing. The smell of gingerbread and cinnamon could have swept you off your feet. You couldn’t wait to meet the owner of the home. Her household made you want to throw a holiday party of your own someday.

When the hostess came over, your mother introduced you. You complimented her on her house and thanked her for inviting you. Pattie was so sweet. Her conversation was down-to-earth and humble. She had one of her waitresses get you both sparkling drinks.

As your mother and she were talking, you glanced around the party, exchanging pleasant smiles with others as your eyes met theirs. Then your eyes landed on this cute, light-brown-haired guy. From where you were, you would say his eyes were brown or brownish hazel. Either way they were pretty and sparkled. And something about him looked . . . familiar.

Thrillingly, he watched you the way you were watching him and cracked a little smile. You got shy, but smiled back at him.

“I’d love for you to meet my son, Justin,” Pattie said, leaning close to you. “He’s your age.”

You broke your stare from the guy and gave your attention to her. “Sure, I’d love to.”

“Okay, let me find him.” Her eyes started scanning the room. You did the same as if you knew what her son looked like, and as you did so, you noticed that the cute brown-haired guy was talking with someone.

“Justin!” your host called, and he suddenly looked up.

You looked at Pattie, and then at him.
Oh, God.

She waved him over. “Come here.”

As he began walking over, you realized,
Holy shit. Is that Justin Bieber?

You whipped your head over to your mom, who was cheesing too hard.

When Justin—Justin
Bieber
!—came over, you tried your hardest to play it cool. But he was more handsome in person than you could have imagined. His mom introduced him to you; your mom introduced you to him. When he flashed his pearly whites, you melted into your heels. Your mom was still speaking, but you nearly lost your mind when he bit his bottom lip.

He held out his hand to you. “I’m Justin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You extended yours for his. His touch was delicate, but a
swirling charge went up your arm. Go ahead, call yourself corny, but you
felt
something.

“I’m . . .”

Oh, jeez. You forgot your name when he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

All you could think was,
Thank you, Mom, for inviting me
.

WHENEVER YOU COME
to your mother-in-law’s home, you revert back to that wondrous night. The night that changed your life forever. Parking your car in the driveway, you got out and jogged up the front steps. After ringing the doorbell, you waited for the double wooden doors to part.

When they did, Pattie was standing there with your next heart, dancing back and forth.

You laughed and opened your arms for her. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Happy anniversary. Can you believe it’s been two years?” Her eyes widened in shock.

“It’s so hard to believe.” You adored the gold heart with white writing. Did Justin do this on purpose? This heart symbolized Christmas for you. His subtle touches were beautiful.

She handed you the heart. “I do have a gift for you and Justin, but I know you want to get back to this hunt.”

“Thanks, Mom. Love you. I’ll see you soon.” You gave her another hug and kiss on the cheek before sprinting to your car. “What’s next?”

You sat in your motionless car to read:
One of the best nights of my life. What if your dad didn’t have to work that night? What if your mom never invited you to come to my mom’s party? Would we be where we are today?