Perfect Scandal

Chapter 6

Alistair leaned back on his couch, the soft, warm glow of the Christmas tree lights casting a cozy ambiance in his apartment. The baby, bundled snugly in a fluffy blanket, had finally drifted off to sleep in her makeshift crib—a large, cushioned laundry basket lined with soft towels and pillows. The quiet hum of the heater filled the room, and for a moment, the chaos of the past day seemed to dissolve.

Riley sat in a chair near the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of cocoa. Her sweatshirt was a size too big, her hair slightly disheveled, and there was a faint dusting of flour on her sleeve from earlier when she’d impulsively baked a batch of cookies. It wasn’t her usual scene—spending Christmas Eve with her celebrity neighbor and an abandoned baby—but here she was.

Alistair broke the silence. “So, what’s your plan for tonight?”

Riley blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“For Christmas Eve,” he said, gesturing toward her with a bottle of water in hand. “You know, the festive dinner, family time, all that stuff.”

She shrugged, taking another sip of cocoa. “I’m not planning anything. I’ll probably just stay in my apartment, read, and go to bed early.”

“Read and go to bed early?” Alistair repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. “On Christmas Eve? Riley, come on.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Everything!” he exclaimed, sitting up straighter. “Christmas Eve isn’t about staying alone in your apartment doing nothing. It’s about being with people, eating good food, sharing stories, and celebrating.”

Riley gave him a flat look. “Well, I don’t have people, Alistair. My family’s miles away, and I’m not in the mood to celebrate.”

Alistair leaned back, studying her for a moment. “That’s... depressing.”

“It’s realistic,” she countered.

He shook his head, setting his water bottle on the coffee table. “Not tonight. You’re not spending Christmas Eve alone, especially not when there’s a perfectly good excuse to celebrate right here.”

She tilted her head, confused. “What excuse?”

Alistair gestured dramatically toward the sleeping baby. “Her! This little one deserves a proper Christmas Eve. It’d be downright criminal to let her spend her first Christmas in silence and gloom.”

Riley stared at him, incredulous. “Are you seriously guilt-tripping me into celebrating Christmas for the baby? She’s a newborn, Alistair. She doesn’t even know what Christmas is.”

“That’s not the point,” he said earnestly. “It’s the spirit of it. The warmth, the joy, the togetherness. Even if she can’t remember it, we’ll know. And isn’t that what matters?”

Riley opened her mouth to retort but found herself hesitating. He wasn’t wrong—not entirely, anyway. The thought of the baby missing out on the magic of Christmas, however subtle, tugged at something inside her.

“I don’t know...” she began hesitantly.

“Come on,” he pressed, his tone persuasive. “We don’t have to do anything fancy. We’ll scrounge up some food, maybe watch a Christmas movie, and call it a night. No pressure, no expectations. Just... stay. For her.”

Riley frowned, mulling it over. She wasn’t particularly fond of Christmas anymore; it had lost its sparkle over the years. But Alistair’s expression—a mix of hope and genuine sincerity—made it hard to say no.

“And you’re sure this is for her?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Not just because you don’t want to spend the evening alone?”

Alistair placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Riley, I’m deeply hurt that you’d think I have ulterior motives.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “But can you blame me? It’s Christmas Eve, and you’re good company—when you’re not scolding me, that is.”

Riley rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched upward despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” he said, his grin widening. “So, what do you say? Stay for the evening. We’ll make it a Christmas Eve to remember.”

Riley hesitated, glancing at the sleeping baby. Her heart softened as she watched the infant’s tiny chest rise and fall with each breath. It wasn’t as though she had anything better to do, and despite her initial annoyance with Alistair, he wasn’t the worst company.

“I... I don’t know,” she said finally, her voice unsure. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured my Christmas Eve.”

Alistair leaned forward, his gaze earnest. “Sometimes the best moments are the unexpected ones. Think about it—years from now, you’ll have this great story to tell about how you spent Christmas Eve with a Hollywood star and a mystery baby.”

Riley raised an eyebrow. “Great story or bizarre anecdote?”

“Either way, it’s memorable,” he said, flashing her a boyish grin.

She sighed, setting her mug down on the table. “I’ll think about it.”

Alistair leaned back, a satisfied smile on his face. “That’s all I ask.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft hum of the heater and the occasional rustle as the baby shifted in her sleep. Alistair glanced at Riley, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes. She hadn’t said yes—not yet—but he had a feeling she wouldn’t leave.

Not tonight.

And so, he waited.

Riley leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, staring at the twinkling lights on Alistair’s Christmas tree. She wasn’t quite sure what held her back from giving him an outright refusal. Maybe it was the subtle charm of the soft-lit room, the warmth emanating from the heater, or the quiet presence of the sleeping baby between them.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was Alistair himself.

She quickly dismissed the thought. No, that couldn’t be it. This was simply about the baby. A helpless, abandoned infant couldn’t be left alone with someone like Alistair Gomez, who probably thought parenting was as easy as learning lines for a role. The man was clueless.

Still, Riley hesitated.

“I’m not making any promises,” she said at last, her voice guarded. “But I’ll stay long enough to make sure you don’t feed the baby something ridiculous like pizza or soda.”

Alistair’s grin widened. “Riley Daemons, I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I said no promises,” she reminded him, though the corner of her mouth betrayed a small smile.