Page 8 of Under the Mistletoe
“I don’t know. I was caught off guard. It was unexpected. He was standing there, all suited up and stylish, looking at me like I amazed him. I panicked. You know I like to take my time with decisions.” I omit the fact that my experience with men is a little lackluster. So much so, I wasn’t sure if he was checking me out or if my brain was playing tricks on me. I had a few short-term boyfriends in college, a couple of drunken one-night stands, but not much since then. Dating is not really my thing.
“You need to take the job,” she insists, looking at me more seriously now.
I push my glasses back up my nose, the one act I do constantly. “Maybe…”
“Alright, look, I gotta run. Just email him. Tell him you’ve had time to think about his offer, and if it still stands, you’d like to take it. If not, no harm.” Shelley makes it all sound so easy.
“I’ll think about it.”
She huffs playfully. “Fine. I need to go see my mom. See you later.”
“Okay, see you later.”
She walks out, her quick visit leaving me with my thoughts before Uncle Bob snaps me out of them.
“Jay Jay. Jimmy’s out front to see you.” He looks at me, concerned.
“It’s fine.” I wave him off, standing and heading toward the front, my sandwich now forgotten.
“Hey, Jimmy.” Moving to the boxes, I grab another one to unpack while we talk. Might as well get back to work, these boxes aren’t going to unpack themselves.
“Hey, Jay Jay. Need a hand?” He reaches over to grab the box, but I beat him to it.
“I’m all good. What’s up?”
Jimmy Stallone comes in every Saturday. I’ve known him for a while. He’s a young lawyer in the city, and we catch the same train most days. He’s also asked me out more times than I can count. Each time, I say no. But instead of becoming disinterested, it seems to make him even more committed. It leaves me a little unsettled, but I figure he probably just needs a friend.
“I thought I’d ask you to lunch today. Mr. Zimmi has a soup and coffee special.” He smiles, enthusiastic as ever.
“Sorry, Jimmy, I just ate with Uncle Bob.” I nod toward the register, where Uncle Bob watches us closely, his sandwich half-eaten. He’s never been a fan of Jimmy, says his kind of persistence is a red flag.
“Oh, shame! I’ll have to come in earlier next weekend. What’s happening? It seems like you have a lot of stock today.”
“We’ve got a big sale. Need a sprinkler for your place?” Uncle Bob interjects, his voice sharp.
“No, sir. Not today.”
“Well, best leave my niece to her work, Jimmy.”
I offer a polite smile. Jimmy nods, taking the hint.
“See you soon, Jay Jay.”
“Bye, Jimmy.”
We watch him go before Uncle Bob mutters, “Never liked that kid.”
“He’s harmless.”
“Maybe. But I still never liked him.” A weird, heavy feeling settles in my chest as I look out the window at Jimmy’s retreating form.
“Need help with anything else? Or should I keep working on the boxes?” I glance at the stacked wall of boxes on my right, knowing it’ll take all afternoon.
“You know you don't have to spend your weekends here. Your aunt’s right; you should be out, meeting new friends.”
Uncle Bob is protective of me. The idea of me out in the city at night, especially with men, is probably more than he wants to imagine. Although I'm in my mid-twenties, live on my own, and have worked in the city on and off for years.
“I’d rather be here. Besides, it’s good exercise.” I squat to lift another box, earning a shake of his head and a smile.
