Perfect Scandal

Chapter 8

The makeshift Christmas gifts sat neatly under Alistair’s tiny tree, their quirky wrapping and mismatched ribbons giving the scene a certain charm. Riley took a seat on the floor, her back against the couch where the baby lay giggling softly, fascinated by the lights twinkling above.

Alistair leaned forward from his spot on the opposite side of the tree, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “All right, Riley. Time to unveil the mystery gifts.”

Riley rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. “Don’t get too excited. I didn’t exactly have a lot of options.”

“That’s what makes it fun,” Alistair replied, picking up one of the gifts wrapped in Riley’s simple fabric. He studied it dramatically, holding it aloft as if it were a rare treasure.

“Can you not make everything a performance?” Riley muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward.

“I’m an actor,” he said with a wink. “It’s in my blood.”

With exaggerated care, Alistair tore open the wrapping, revealing a small metal tin. He turned it over in his hands, his brows knitting together in confusion.

“Gum?” he asked, lifting the lid to inspect the neat rows of mint gum inside.

Riley crossed her arms, her expression guarded. “You always chew gum on your way out. I figured it might be useful to have a tin you can refill instead of those flimsy packets you’re always tossing around.”

For a moment, Alistair said nothing, his gaze flicking between the tin and Riley. Then a slow grin spread across his face. “That’s... oddly thoughtful. Thanks, Riley.”

“It’s just gum,” she said quickly, brushing off his gratitude.

“No, it’s classy gum,” he teased, slipping the tin into his pocket. “Now I can look sophisticated while freshening my breath.”

“Let’s move on,” Riley said, her cheeks slightly pink.

Riley turned her attention to the baby’s gift, pulling the small package closer. The baby gurgled happily, her tiny hands reaching for the colorful fabric.

“Let’s see what Auntie Riley brought you,” Alistair said in a singsong voice, helping unwrap the gift.

Inside was a small stuffed toy, a soft and slightly lopsided bunny with big, floppy ears.

Alistair laughed, holding the toy up to inspect it. “This is adorable. Where’d you find it?”

Riley hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. “I... won it from a claw machine a while ago. It’s been sitting on a shelf ever since, so I thought she might like it better than I did.”

The baby’s eyes widened at the sight of the toy, her tiny fingers reaching for it eagerly. Alistair handed it to her, and the baby clutched it to her chest with a delighted squeal.

“Looks like it’s a hit,” Alistair said, grinning. “You’ve officially outdone me in the gift department.”

“Well, that’s not saying much,” Riley retorted, gesturing to the pile of canned goods and other household items he’d wrapped earlier.

“Hey, those gifts are practical,” Alistair said, feigning offense. “She’s going to need that bread and those beans eventually.”

Riley snorted, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

---

As the night wore on, the baby eventually drifted off to sleep, her new stuffed bunny tucked securely in her arms. Riley and Alistair sat quietly on the couch, the hum of the city outside their window providing a gentle backdrop to the peaceful scene.

Riley glanced at Alistair, who was staring at the baby with a soft, almost wistful expression. “What’s on your mind?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

Alistair shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Just... this. It’s nice. Different from what I’m used to, but nice.”

“Different how?”

“Well, normally Christmas for me is either some big celebrity bash or a fancy dinner with people who care more about appearances than actually being together,” he admitted. “This feels... real. No pretenses, no cameras. Just us.”

Riley tilted her head, studying him. For all his charm and bravado, there was a vulnerability in his tone that caught her off guard.

“You’re not so bad when you’re not being insufferable,” she said lightly, earning a chuckle from him.

“And you’re not so bad when you’re not threatening to call the building manager on me,” he shot back, his grin returning.

Riley rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

---

The clock on the wall ticked closer to midnight, signaling the arrival of Christmas Day. Alistair stood and stretched, heading to the kitchen.

“Want something to drink to toast the holiday?” he asked.

“I’m good,” Riley replied, pulling the blanket over her legs as she settled deeper into the couch.

Alistair returned with a glass of wine for himself, raising it in a toast. “To unexpected company and improvised Christmases.”

Riley raised an imaginary glass in response, smirking. “To canned goods and claw machine prizes.”

They both laughed, the kind of laughter that came easily after a long day filled with unexpected turns.

---

Riley sat back on the couch, her gaze drifting toward the softly glowing Christmas lights strung up around Alistair's apartment. The baby snuggled peacefully in her makeshift crib, her tiny bunny clutched tightly in her little hands. The sounds of the city celebrating Christmas—fireworks, laughter, and music—echoed faintly outside, but here in the warmth of this quiet moment, it all felt distant.

She had to admit to herself that this wasn’t how she’d expected her Christmas Eve to go. If anything, she’d prepared for silence, solitude, and maybe a night of quiet reflection as she memorized prayers and went over the convent’s expectations. Her plan had been to embrace that aloneness, to let it guide her into what she believed would be a new chapter of peace and purpose.

But sitting here, in this room full of mismatched decorations, wrapped canned goods, and one very exasperating neighbor, she realized just how much she’d missed the warmth of shared moments.

---

Riley pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the fabric. Her mind wandered to the Christmases of her childhood—memories of laughter, bustling kitchens, and the chaos of family unwrapping gifts under the tree. Those memories had always seemed so distant, like a faded photograph she no longer belonged to.

Yet tonight, something had shifted.

When she looked at the baby’s peaceful face or heard Alistair’s infectious laughter as he recounted a particularly embarrassing story from one of his sets, she felt a warmth she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years. It wasn’t the grand, glittering holiday celebrations of her childhood, but it was something simpler, purer—and maybe even better.

“I didn’t think I’d be celebrating at all this year,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Alistair, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up. “What do you mean?”

Riley hesitated, debating how much to say. She wasn’t exactly in the habit of spilling her thoughts to neighbors—especially not ones who were famous actors. But something about the genuine curiosity in his expression made her continue.

“I thought I’d be alone,” she admitted. “I’ve been... preparing for something big. Something I thought would give me meaning. But I didn’t realize how much I’d miss this—people, laughter, even the chaos.” She gestured toward the room around them.

Alistair leaned back in his chair, his eyes softening. “That’s the thing about life, isn’t it? It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. One minute you’re planning for solitude, and the next, you’re stuck with a baby, a neighbor who hates you, and canned beans wrapped as presents.”

Riley let out a reluctant laugh. “I don’t hate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he teased. “But I’ll take that as progress.”

---

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t demand to be filled. Riley watched as Alistair checked on the baby, his movements careful and oddly natural for someone who had claimed to know nothing about children. He adjusted the blanket around her tiny form, his expression soft and unguarded.

“You’re good with her,” Riley said before she could stop herself.

Alistair glanced back at her, surprised. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “For someone who supposedly knows nothing about babies, you’re doing a pretty decent job.”

He smiled, a hint of pride in his expression. “Thanks. I guess it’s different when you’re actually holding them. It’s like... I don’t know, you want to do better for them. Even if you have no idea what you’re doing.”

Riley nodded, understanding the sentiment more than she expected to. “Yeah. Kids have a way of making you think about things differently.”

Alistair sat down beside her on the couch, his usual playful demeanor tempered by something quieter. “What about you?” he asked. “I mean, you’re clearly good with her too. Did you always plan to... you know, go the convent route?”

Riley hesitated, unsure how to explain the tangle of emotions that had led her here. “I thought it was the right thing to do,” she said finally. “After failing at so many other things, it felt like a way to start fresh. To find a purpose.”

Alistair studied her, his expression unreadable. “And tonight?”

“What about it?”

“Did it make you question that decision?”

Riley opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. The truth was, she didn’t know. Being here, sharing this strange and unexpected evening with Alistair and the baby, had stirred something in her—a longing she hadn’t let herself feel in years. But what did it mean? Was it just the novelty of the situation, or was it something deeper?

“I don’t know,” she admitted finally. “But I think it’s the first time in a long time I’ve felt... connected.”

Alistair nodded, his gaze drifting toward the baby. “Funny, isn’t it? How a random basket on your doorstep can change everything.”

Riley laughed softly. “Yeah. Funny.”

---

As the clock struck midnight, the city outside erupted in celebration. Fireworks lit up the sky, their colorful bursts visible through the apartment’s large windows. The sounds of cheers and laughter filled the air, but inside, it was quiet and calm.

The baby stirred slightly in her sleep but remained peaceful, her tiny hands clutching the stuffed bunny.

“Merry Christmas, Riley,” Alistair said softly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary.

Riley glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Merry Christmas, Alistair.”

The simplicity of the exchange felt fitting, a quiet acknowledgment of the strange yet oddly meaningful night they had shared.

As Riley leaned back against the couch, a faint smile crossed her lips. She still wasn’t sure how she had ended up spending Christmas with a Hollywood star and an abandoned baby, but for now, she was okay with it.

There was something about this unconventional celebration that felt... right.