Page 30 of Booked for the Holidays
I’m close to launching myself at him. He’s attractive. Absurdly, so. This is the first time I’ve had a physical reaction to him, a drift to a sensation more desperate than plain attraction. He’s a black hole and I’m being pulled into his orbit, the catalyst for losing my train of thought and all meaningful dialogue.
All that’s left behind is him.
“Right,” I say. I cough and clear my throat, doing my best to regain focus on the group and not the man sitting to my left. He’s closer than he was five minutes ago, his calf near mine and the side of his boot pressing into the leg of my chair. I swear a burst of heat radiates from him. “What works best for everyone? Email? Text?”
“Snapchat?” Bradley asks.
“Is that the one with pictures?” Theo asks.
“Yeah, boss, it’s this awesome app. You send a private photo to someone and it disappears after the other person opens it. It’s perfect for–”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Chandler warns. “No one wants to hear about your junk. Are you even old enough to drink?”
“I’m 22,” Bradley answers, then throws a wink her way.
“Texting it is!” I rip out a sheet from my notebook and hand it to Jordan. “Put down your name and phone number. I’ll get a group chat going. Now that we’ve gotten the hard part out of the way, what about a group activity once a week? It’ll take our minds off the competition, which will be nice. I like y’all. It would be fun to hang out when we’re not yelling about where garland should hang.”
“What about ice skating?” Lucas proposes. “It’s festive and it gives us a break from the Florida weather. I know the rink is decked out in cool lights and they have good food. Maybe it’ll feel more like the holidays and less like a never-ending heat wave.”
“All in favor of ice skating?”
Fifteen arms lift in the air, and Lucas pumps his fist victoriously.
“Done,” I say. “Does Friday at seven work for everyone?”
I tilt my head in Theo’s direction, hoping he can sense my silent question.
Does that work with your schedule and Mac?
“Friday at seven sounds good,” he confirms.
“I’ll call and make reservations. Oh! One last thing. Lucas suggested a gift exchange. Fifteen dollar max limit for spending, and we can draw random names. If everyone is okay with the idea, we can do that on Friday after we skate. Okay, that’s all I got. Y’all can stay and hang out if you want!”
I expect everyone to head out relatively quickly. We’ve been here for a while, and I imagine people have lives they want to get back to. Instead, hushed side conversations begin. Bradley pulls out his phone and starts a livestream on a social media app. Brooke and Chandler drop their heads together, talking animatedly. Malik shows Molly, one of my employees, a video saved on his camera roll. They both laugh, and she scoots her chair closer to his.
I smile, excited giddiness building like a spring. It feelsgoodto have so many people here, enjoying each other. A camaraderie is forming. Alliances are being made. Friendships are starting.
I… like it.
I like the sound of chattering voices and phone numbers being exchanged. Of high-fives and another round of beer bottles cracking open.
A swell of emotions hit me. This is how it always starts; a rising tide. A gradual build. Those goddamn feelings filter to the surface and I curse under my breath. My lip trembles and I do my best to keep a neutral face as I stand, collecting the remaining plates and soda cans and bringing them to the large trash can and recycling bucket by the café.
“Hey.”
Theo’s voice, low and recognizable, sounds behind me. I drop my chin to my shoulder and give him a feeble smile.
“Hey,” I say.
His eyes sweep over my face. A frown sits on his lips and he steps toward me, boots moving across the floor in two large strides. “Are you okay? You look upset.”
“I’m not upset. I’m a stupidly emotional person, and it’s so wonderful to see everyone having a good time together. And I know that makes me seem like an idiot, because who the hell would cry over a damn pizza box and Christmas trees? Yet here I am, needing a pack of tissues because I’m so happy. I won’t blame you for turning around and walking away. I must look ridiculous.”
Theo’s elbow rests on the counter, his right hand digging in his front pocket. He extracts a clean napkin, slightly crumpled into a ball of paper, and hands it to me.
“Will this work?” he asks with uncertainty. “I can track down a tissue for you, but this is the best I have right now.”
I emit a watery laugh. “This is perfect. Thanks. I don’t know why I’m making this a big deal. I think it’s because I know the other stores are just going to throw a design together separately. They don’t care about anything other than the prize. They’re not going to go ice skating or send text messages. Yeah, I want to win, but what happens after the contest is over? After we’ve spent all this time together? I just go back to not talking to any of your employees? You go back to not offering me a napkin when I’m crying over little things? I like that everyone seems to want a friendship. I’m a people-pleaser, and I like that people seem pleased. I don’t know. Like I said. I’m an idiot.”
