Page 20 of A Man for the Holidays

“Yeah, he is, and you’re totally falling for the guy.”

“What? I am not,” I tell her, horrified.

“Oh yeah? Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself?”

I glare at her and try to think of something to say. But that’s just it, isn’t it? There is nothingtosay, because no matter how hard I try to fight it, or how much I try and deny it, she’s right. Quinn iseverythingI’ve wished for, and if it hadn’t of been for those two men earlier, God knows what might have happened.

Was I seriously about to kiss the guy?

I can’t even begin to understand what’s happening at the moment. I’ve spent many years of my life single because I’ve given up on romance. Does that mean that I shouldn’t allow myself toeverfall in love again? I don’t do complicated, but then why is it so damn hard for me to just let it all go and give myself a chance with this guy? A man for the holidays. To be with, to shop with, to sleep with, that’s what I told myself when I made this crazy wish, or whateverthisreally is. And the only thing that I know to be true right now, is that this gorgeous, sweet and sensitive man is very much real, even if his time here is limited. So why should I give up on all that?

“Paige, it’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Understand what? You’re a guy, he’s a guy. You’re gay, he’s gay, well I mean I can only assume. And it’s obvious from the way you both look at one another that you want to be together. That really doesn’t sound all that complicated to me. Any other arguments?”

“So, what am I supposed to do, Paige? Just let myself fall in love with the guy? And then what, it turns out that he has to up and leave, just like that?”

“Would it kill you to let yourself be happy?”

“Yes!”

No!

“Maybe, Paige; he’s a mannequin. The only reason he’s here right now is because I made a wish for him to come to life. And yeah, before you say anything, I know how ridiculous that sounds. But one day this guy is a mannequin in a men’s clothing store, and the next, he’s standing on my front stoop at midnight in the middle of a storm. Shit like that only happens in the movies.”

“And yet here he is,” she says, spreading her arms out wide as if trying to catch the guy. “Maybe when you’ve run out of excuses, you’ll realize that I’m right. I’m going to go to bed. Thank you for the beautiful tree. Good night,” she whispers, placing a kiss on my cheek.

“Good night, Quinn,” she says.

“Good night,” I hear him reply as Paige leaves the room.

I make my way into the living room, then as I approach Quinn, he spins around to see me standing behind him.

“Hi, Spencer.”

“Hi,” I reply, not saying anything else.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he asks.

“No,” I answer, shaking my head. “Quinn––”

But as I try and think of the words I want to say, I lose myself in his mesmerizing beauty once more. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to go to bed, is there anything you need before I go?”

“No, thank you.”

The guy is so proper. So forward. So sweet, innocent, naïve, beautiful and so… perfect.

“Good night, Quinn,” I say.

“Good night,” he replies.

With that, I make my way toward my room, and as I open the bedroom door, I turn around and take one last look at Quinn as he presses the button on the CD player, opening and closing the door, repeatedly, and I see his eyes widen with excitement and curiosity. I let out a soft hum, then slowly close my door, change into my pajamas and slide into bed.

With the heavy snowfall over the past several days, the streets of New York City are blanketed by a white cloud of snow. I’ve been busy shoveling snow and making some extra cash, which is great because I’m giving that money to John to secretly pay back Olivia for her missing items. Spencer and I have spent a lot more time together and grown closer, and as much as I’m enjoying my time with him, I just can’t wipe away the feelings of sorrow and disappointment, knowing that in less than a week I’m going to be a statue in a store again.

I shovel the last of the snow off the sidewalk, then make my way to the usual area where I pack up and give the woman my timecard. I then slide my hands into my pants and keep my head down as I head into the mall. I move through the crowd of people as I make my way toward the toy store, where there’s a long line of parents and children waiting to get inside. I squint my eyes and look inside the store, trying to catch a glimpse of Spencer, but the avalanche of people inside obstructs my view. Deciding it’s best not to bother him at work, I make my way through the long line of people then head outside and make my way home.

Using the spare key Spencer made for me, I walk into the house remove my shoes, jacket and shirt, then toss them into my bedroom as I head for the kitchen. Tonight, I’m going to surprise Spencer with a home cooked meal. Since I’ve been here, the only thing I’ve managed to make for him is tomato soup, and that’s not a proper American meal for a beautiful American man. I quickly run back to my room and grab the various cookbooks I’ve been studying and take them into the kitchen. I prop them up against the tiled wall on the counter, then flick through several pages, until I find the most spectacular meal. I read through the ingredients, then walk over to the refrigerator and grab everything I need.

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