Mila Christmas!

The Rockies had vanished behind a wall of white, leaving us trapped in a dim A-frame cabin. ​"The fire won't grow just because you're haunting it," a dry voice rasped. ​I turned to see Mila Kunis wrapped in a plush blanket, sliding a mug of bourbon across the kitchen island toward me. We’d been strangers until a freeway pile-up forced us into the same emergency rental four hours ago. ​"Wi-Fi’s gone, the wood is low, and the pantry is just creamed corn," she said with a tired smirk. "I hope you're interesting, stranger. It’s a long way to morning."