Page 85 of Clause & Effect
“Charlie. I’ve seen you mope around when you think no one’s looking and sometimes your eyes get all watery for no reason. When Ethan notices, you say it’s allergies, but I’m a woman, I know.”
Fine.
“He was just a guy that I met and knew I shouldn’t expect anything from, but I did, because I’m me. And then he hurt me by just being who he told me he was.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s over.”
Talk about optimism. I’m not near drunk enough to have this conversation.
“Trust me,” I hold my hand up with authority. “If you knew the whole story, you’d know it’s over.”
“Tell me,” she pleads.
“I can’t,” I shake my head.
“Come on!”
“I really can’t,” I think about the clause I signed and then I think about all the things I can say but I don’t know if I have the energy for it.
“Maybe another time,” I say. “Not on Christmas Eve.”
The doorbell rings.
Annie’s eyes light up as bright as the tree.
“Thank God!” She squeals in delight. “It’s the pizza I ordered!”
“Pizza?” I look at her in confusion. “I thought you and Ethan were vegan?”
“I’m going to cheat tonight,” she says. “He’s a terrible cook and I want pizza. I felt the need after that third drink. Nothing will hit the spot like it.”
I’m not mad about it.
“I’ll be right back!” she rushes off to the door and I sit back and stare at the tree. Mine is definitely lacking the flair of Stetson’s or anything I saw in Christmas Village, but something about it feels cozy.
I hear heavy footsteps in the room.
“I definitely want some,” I say over my shoulder, grateful that Annie ordered because I’ve never had a vegan Christmas before, and I’m all for it, but what if I’m still hungry?
“I definitely want some too,” his sweet, velvety voice moves around the room and my body like a dream come true.
My heart drops and I close my eyes.
Am I imagining this?
“No, baby,” he says. “I’m here.” As if reading my thoughts.
I turn around and stare at him with wide eyes, not caring that I said the words out loud, just hyper focused on the gorgeous man standing in front of me.
He looks exhausted.
His hair is mussed, and his beard is perfect, but his eyes… he looks like he’s been through a lot, the circles underneath his perfect lashes could tell tales. He’s dressed perfect for Naples, Florida in a t-shirt and jeans. Nothing remotely like something Santa would wear, but so hot.
“Isn’t this the busiest night of the year?” I remind him of his obvious job duties.
He smiles tenderly. Understanding washes all over his face that and what seems like a bit of thankfulness that I get it.
“My dad dropped me off,” he says almost sheepishly. “It’s his night anyway. I already did everything I had to leading up to it, thus being so tired, though that’s not all of it.”
