Charming Co-Worker - Jeannine Colette Page 0,17
to get things on my own merit. Besides, I’m not the kind of guy who likes the most popular things. A glass of whiskey at a bar with good music and plenty of jokes is perfect for me.”
The waitress comes over to ask what we’d like. There aren’t many choices, as the holiday menu is set, so we go for the tasting. Before she walks away, Hunter orders our drinks.
I take a moment to enjoy the room and admire the holiday decor. Even the people help set the mood with women in their red sweaters and dress pants and men in their finest dinner attire. The music overhead is holiday classical tunes, and I find myself humming along.
As my eyes drift over to my dinner partner, I notice he’s staring at me, studying me with a grin.
“What?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder to see if there’s something behind me.
“Just looking,” he states.
My hand covers my mouth. “Do I have something in my teeth?”
“No. And if you did, I’d tell you.” He leans forward, crossing his arms on the table. “You really love Christmas, don’t you?”
I shrug my shoulders and tilt my head. “Of course. Who doesn’t?”
“Some people,” he says as the waitress brings our drinks to the table. He lifts his and clinks it with mine. “To holiday spirits.”
“May you find yours,” I say as I tap his glass and bring it to my lips for a sip.
“Clever,” he muses as he takes a drink.
“You know, Scrooge, you can always join me at the soup kitchen on Christmas Eve. It might help that heart of yours grow two sizes bigger.”
He stares at me like I missed the joke. “I never said I didn’t like Christmas. And why are you volunteering at a soup kitchen? Aren’t you going home for the holidays?”
“Home is in Ohio, and with the plane tickets being so expensive, my parents have postponed Christmas to January. My brother, Liam, and I are on opposite coasts, so we’re flying home to celebrate on Little Christmas. You know, when the Three Wise Men—”
“I’m familiar,” he says and then asks curiously, “It doesn’t bother you not to spend the holidays with your folks?”
I slowly raise my shoulder. “It’s not the date that counts. It’s about family.”
“You sound like a Hallmark card.”
His comment makes me smile. “Why, Hunter Johnstone, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” I take a drink and lean on the table. “Anyway, since I’ll be in the city and I don’t want to be alone, I signed up to do a good deed this year.”
“That’s kinda sad,” he says and then follows it up with, “Not the philanthropy part. That’s admirable. You shouldn’t be alone on Christmas Eve.”
“I won’t be,” I clarify. “I’ll be with a hundred and fifty people. What are your plans?”
“Johnstone family Christmas,” he says matter-of-factly. “At my parents’ house in Connecticut. It’s a big affair. A ham, a turkey, a punch bowl full of eggnog. Twenty-three people, including my narcoleptic grandmother, who falls asleep at the table, and my crazy uncle Gerry, who tells inappropriate jokes. And my dad dresses up like Santa yet can never keep his beard up.”
“That sounds wonderful!”
He smiles out the side of his mouth. “It’s not too bad.”
“Tons of presents?” I ask, resting my elbows on the table, dropping my chin in my hands.
“Too many.” He laughs and seems to relax. “Every year, my mom says she’s going to go simple, and then there are a hundred presents under the tree. And I’m not talking about little trinkets. Bikes, stereos, and whatever the hottest gift of the season is. She does throw in some sweet gifts. Something is always monogrammed. Not to mention, the yearly ornament to commemorate an accomplishment of ours.”
“Are you close with your family?”
“Yes,” he answers easily, and I curve my mouth. “Are you surprised by that?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “I just don’t know that much about you, and what I do know, well, I always thought you were more of a Casanova than a family man.”
He sits back in his chair and rubs his jaw, as if thinking about what I just said. I get the feeling I offended him. I try to think back to the last few years to remember why I thought this.
His eyes narrow slightly as he tilts his head in question. “Why is that?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. I honestly thought so because of the way you are with women. You always find someone