"November fifth," I said, settling back in my chair. The French toast was getting cold, but nobody seemed to care about breakfast anymore.

"I want to go last!" Harlow blurted out, bouncing in her seat like she’d just won the lottery.

Cassidy’s hand shot up immediately. "Second! I’ll take second!"

I watched Cassidy’s face soften as she looked at Harlow. That expression of hers when she thinks someone’s being sweet. Like Harlow was sacrificing something by choosing last place.

But Vivienne was studying Harlow with those corporate eyes of hers. The ones that see three moves ahead in every conversation.

"No, Harley," Vivienne said slowly. "I insist on going last."

"That’s okay, Vivi! You can go before me!"

Now I was getting confused. Since when do these girls fight over who gets to go last? Usually they’re all trying to be first in line for everything. Harlow practically trampled Cassidy to get the first shower this morning.

Sabrina was watching this exchange with growing understanding. Her purple eyes lit up with that dangerous intelligence of hers. She nodded once, sharp and approving.

"Smart," she murmured.

Cassidy whipped around to face her. "What’s smart? Why is everyone acting weird about going last? Why would anyone want to go last?"

Sabrina leaned over and whispered something in Cassidy’s ear. Whatever she said made Cassidy’s eyes go wide as dinner plates.

"The one who goes last gets Isaiah for CHRISTMAS?" Cassidy’s voice cracked on the last word.

Oh. Oh shit.

The dates suddenly clicked in my head. December eighteenth to January first. Two weeks each meant Sabrina would get me from November fifth to the nineteenth. Then the second girl would get me from November twentieth to December third. Third girl from December fourth to the seventeenth.

And whoever went last would have me from December eighteenth through New Year’s Day.

Christmas Eve. Christmas morning. New Year’s Eve. The whole holiday season wrapped up in silk pajamas and purple eyes.

No wonder they were suddenly fighting over last place. That wasn’t the consolation prize. That was the grand fucking prize.

"Well," I said, trying to keep my voice level. "This got complicated fast."

Harlow was still bouncing, but now there was something calculated in her enthusiasm. "I called it first! I want Christmas!"

"Absolutely not," Vivienne said, and her boardroom voice was coming out to play. "I have seniority. I’m the eldest."

"By seven minutes!" Cassidy protested.

"Seven minutes that matter."

Sabrina was watching this unfold like it was the most entertaining thing she’d seen all week. Which, knowing Sabrina, it probably was.

"You know," she said conversationally, "I didn’t specify which position I wanted."

Every head in the room turned toward her.

"I’m perfectly content going first," she continued. "Early November is lovely. Crisp air, changing leaves, no holiday stress."

Translation: Sabrina was playing chess while the other three were playing checkers. She’d get the first shot at whatever this arrangement was supposed to be, plus she got to sit back and watch her sisters tear each other apart over Christmas.

Diabolical. I was kind of impressed.

"That’s very mature of you," Vivienne said carefully.

"I have my moments."

Harlow was gripping the edge of the table now. "But I called Christmas first!"

"Calling something doesn’t make it legally binding," Vivienne replied.

"We’re not in court!"

"We could be if you’d prefer a formal arbitration process."

Jesus Christ. Only Vivienne would threaten legal action over Christmas dating rights.

Cassidy was looking between her sisters like she was watching a tennis match. "Wait, so if Sabrina goes first, and I called second, that means it’s between you two for Christmas?"

"Exactly," Vivienne said.

"Over my dead body," Harlow shot back.

The sweet, bubbly girl who’d been making me vampire costumes and leaving encouraging notes was suddenly looking like she might actually commit murder over holiday privileges. Her purple eyes had gone sharp and predatory.

"Harlow," Vivienne said in her most reasonable tone, "you understand that as the person managing our family’s business interests, I have certain obligations during the holiday season. Board meetings, investor calls, year-end financial reviews. It would be much more efficient if I had Isaiah’s support during that time period."

"You want to spend Christmas doing paperwork?" Harlow’s voice hit a pitch that probably made dogs three neighborhoods over start howling.

"I want to spend Christmas with Isaiah while fulfilling my responsibilities."

"That’s not Christmas! That’s just work with extra steps!"

Vivienne’s jaw tightened. "Some of us have duties that extend beyond crafting and cosplay."

Wrong thing to say. Harlow’s face went from hurt to furious in about half a second.

"Some of us know how to actually enjoy life instead of turning everything into a spreadsheet!"

"That spreadsheet keeps you in designer fabric and custom wigs!"

"I never asked for any of that!"

They were both standing now, leaning across the table like they might actually start throwing punches. Cassidy and I exchanged a look that said we were both wondering if we should take cover.

Iris was still filming everything on her phone. Because of course she was.

"You could always share Christmas," I suggested.

Both girls turned to glare at me like I’d suggested they set themselves on fire.

"That defeats the entire point," Vivienne said.

"The point is Christmas magic!" Harlow protested. "You can’t share Christmas magic!"

"Christmas magic isn’t real, Harlow."

"See? This is why you shouldn’t get Christmas! You don’t even believe in it!"

Vivienne’s corporate mask slipped for just a second, showing something that might have been hurt underneath. "I believe in plenty of things."

"Like what? Quarterly projections?"

"Like taking care of the people I love."

That shut Harlow up. The fight went out of her as fast as it had appeared, and suddenly she looked like she might cry.

Shit. This was getting messy fast.

Sabrina cleared her throat delicately. "Perhaps we should consider a more systematic approach to this dilemma."

"Like what?" Cassidy asked.

"Rock, paper, scissors tournament. Best of three rounds. Winner gets Christmas."

"That’s completely random," Vivienne objected.

"Exactly. Fair and impartial."

"I vote for that," I said quickly. Anything to stop them from actually coming to blows over me. The ego boost was nice, but I wasn’t worth bloodshed.

Actually, scratch that. I was totally worth bloodshed. But these particular girls shouldn’t be the ones bleeding.

Harlow wiped her eyes and nodded. "Fine. But best of five rounds."

"Three," Vivienne countered.

"Four."

"Deal."

They shook hands like they were sealing a business merger instead of agreeing to let chance decide who got to monopolize my holiday season.

Cassidy was shaking her head. "You’re all insane. It’s two weeks of dating, not a marriage proposal."

"Two weeks that include Christmas morning," Harlow said dreamily. "Imagine waking up on Christmas morning with Isaiah. Making breakfast together. Opening presents. Cuddling by the fireplace while it snows outside."

The mental image hit me harder than I wanted to admit. Harlow in Christmas pajamas, her hair messy from sleep, pulling me toward a tree loaded with presents. Her smile brighter than all the lights combined.

Fuck. I was in deeper trouble than I thought.

"Or," Vivienne said smoothly, "imagine a sophisticated Christmas Eve dinner. Wine, conversation, no interruptions from anyone else. A mature celebration for mature people."

Now I was picturing Vivienne in that red dress from her closet, candlelight reflecting off her wine-colored hair, those purple eyes promising things that would definitely violate several workplace harassment policies.

Double fuck.

"You’re both thinking too small," Sabrina observed. "Christmas is thirteen days. Plenty of time for multiple activities."

"Whose side are you on?" Harlow demanded.

"My own, obviously."

Cassidy slumped back in her chair. "I can’t believe I’m going to spend the next two weeks watching you three plot each other’s destruction over Christmas privileges."

"You could always trade positions," I pointed out. "If someone makes you a better offer."

Cassidy’s eyes lit up with sudden interest. "What kind of offer?"

"Cassidy Valentine," Vivienne said warningly, "do not even think about it."

"I’m not thinking about anything! I’m just asking hypothetically what someone might offer in exchange for a prime holiday slot."

"Absolutely nothing," Harlow said firmly. "Christmas isn’t for sale."

"Everything’s for sale at the right price," Cassidy shot back.

"Not this!"

"Girls," I interrupted before they could start round two of the Christmas wars. "Maybe we should just stick with the original plan. Sabrina first, Cassidy second, and then you two can fight over last place like civilized people."

"There’s nothing civilized about this," Vivienne muttered.

"Says the girl who threatened legal action five minutes ago."

"I was speaking metaphorically."

"No, you weren’t."

Iris finally looked up from her phone. "For what it’s worth, this is the best entertainment I’ve had since that reality show about the housewives who fight over wedding venues."

"This is not entertainment," I said. "This is my life becoming a circus."

"A very expensive circus," Sabrina added helpfully.

"With better costumes," Harlow chimed in.

"And more emotional damage," Cassidy concluded.

Vivienne was staring at her tablet screen, but I could see her reflection in the black surface. She wasn’t reading anything. She was thinking. Planning. Probably calculating the exact probability that she could manipulate circumstances to her advantage.

"You know what?" I said, standing up from the table. "I need coffee. Real coffee. The kind that comes from a machine that doesn’t cost more than my rent."

"Where are you going?" Harlow asked, looking suddenly worried.

"To find Mrs. Tanaka and see if she has any normal coffee hidden somewhere in this mansion. You four can continue plotting each other’s downfall without me."