Chapter 23: White Christmas

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Chapter 23: White Christmas

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Eric's head snapped up guiltily at the sound of his manager's voice. He must have lost track of time. He only meant to hide out for a few minutes in this abandoned dressing room before he headed back on set – just long enough to respond to Tessa's latest DM.

He knew he didn't have time to chat with her for long. He was performing tonight on live network TV: one of those cheesy December Christmas specials, complete with Santa hats and mistletoe. They had him singing White Christmas, and Eric had wrapped up soundcheck an hour ago, but he still hadn't run through his spoken lines. He and Ariana Grande had to fill two full minutes of airtime with ad-libbed holiday banter – not an easy feat when you're reading your "unscripted" lines off a teleprompter.

Eric glanced over his shoulder now to see Maury standing in the open doorway of the dressing room. "Sometime today, kiddo? They needed you ten minutes ago."

"Sorry." Eric turned his head to avert his face from his manager's view. He hastily slipped his phone into his back pocket, struggling to erase the guilty flush of color prickling his cheeks.

"What are you doing in here, anyway?" Maury asked.

"Just reading over my lines again for tonight," Eric lied. "Did you know my dad used to take me sledding every year on Christmas morning?"

"Sounds like a heart-warming family tradition."

"Yeah," Eric said with a smirk. "Of course, I grew up in Arizona. Just a minor detail. You wouldn't believe how many times I crashed my sled into a cactus. But that's totally believable, right?"

Maury swatted away the question with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Just smile pretty for the camera and stick to the script. No one's gonna be listening too closely."

Eric snorted but didn't bother to retort. He turned to leave the room, but Maury stood squarely in the doorway now, hands on his hips. "Wow," Maury said with a low whistle. "You're just gonna let that comment slide? This is more serious than I thought."

"What is?" Eric pulled to a stop and crinkled his forehead in puzzlement as met the other man's eyes. How long had his manager been standing there just now? How much had he seen?

Not that there was anything shady going on, Eric reassured himself. Not really.

"You just spent the past ten minutes giggling like a schoolgirl at your phone, Eric.  We both know you weren't going over lines."

Eric raised his eyebrows. "Ten minutes? You were spying on me?"

"You call it spying. I call it managing." Maury gave an exaggerated shrug. "You know you're supposed to disclose if you have a new girlfriend, right? The publicists appreciate a heads up."

"Yeah right," Eric replied. "Like I have time for a relationship."

He tried again to step past his manager into the hallway, but Maury didn't budge. "Maybe not a girlfriend, then. But definitely a girl. Don't bullshit me."

"You're crazy." Eric forced a chuckle, but it sounded false even to his own ears.

"It's fine, kid. About time, if you ask me. Just tell me who she is and I'll pass it along—"

"It's no one!" 

"Eric—"

"Drop it, Maury. Asked and answered. Can I go now? Or was there something else you wanted to talk about?"

Maury still didn't move. He narrowed his eyes as he studied his client's face. "No one, huh? That's more serious. Don't tell me you're in love."

"No!" Eric clenched his fists at his sides, fighting with all his strength not to reach up and wrap his hands around Maury's throat. "No, I'm not—that's ridiculous!" He winced internally as he heard his voice crack, and he forced himself to take a breath and respond in a calmer tone. "I was just texting with a friend. What makes you so sure it was even a girl?"

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