A Very Bossy Christmas - Kayley Loring Page 0,62
his eyes and places his hand over his heart. It looks like he’s about to recite a William Butler Yeats poem or something, but instead he says something even more romantic: “I’d love to take you there someday. Italy too.”
The tip of my nose is tingling, and the rims of my eyes are stinging, and I take a deep breath because I’m finally going to say something real.
“Maddie! I thought you lived around here!” I look up and see Cindy, the receptionist from Sentinel, walking out from the restrooms, only it takes me a few seconds to recognize her, all bundled up in her winter coat and accessories.
“Cindy! Hi.” I stand up to hug her. “What are you doing in these parts?”
“Oh, I was just on my way to my friend’s place on the Lower East Side, and I had to pee, so I stopped in for a quick glass of ale.” She finally sees Declan sitting in the chair next to mine. “Oh! Hi, Mr. Cannavale! I’m so sorry—I didn’t see you there. Happy holidays!”
He stands up to hug her just as she holds her hand out to shake his. “Happy holidays,” he says.
“Oh!” She gasps and wraps her arms around him. “Thank you.”
“Can I get you another beer?” he asks casually. “Would you like to join us?”
“Thank you, no, I’m already late for my friend.”
Both Declan and Cindy are watching me. It feels like my right eye is twitching. “Declan just dropped off my belated Christmas gift, so I invited him for a quick drink,” I explain. “I live right by here.”
“Right,” she says. “That’s great.”
“Right.” Declan looks down at the table. “Welp. Since I’m up, I’ll hit the jacks real quick. Excuse me.” He pats Cindy on the shoulder and heads to the doors that lead to the restrooms.
Cindy and I watch him go. He’s wearing dark jeans, and his butt looks magnificent in them.
“You don’t have to worry about me saying anything to anyone at work, Maddie.” Cindy touches my arm, reassuring me. “My friends and I go out a lot during the day on weekends, all over town, and you wouldn’t believe how many people I’ve seen together from the office. All hungover and post-coital. But don’t ask who, because I won’t tell.” She mimes locking her lips and throwing away the key.
“Really? Wow. That’s an effective policy, huh? But really, this isn’t anything.”
“Hmmm. Not what it looks like to me, but if you say so. Okay. Say goodbye to Mr. Cannavale for me. Got any big plans for New Year’s?”
“Not really,” I say with a shrug. Another lie. “You?”
She grins. “Huge.” She waggles her eyebrows and waves as she walks away. “See ya.”
I sit back down and finish my beer. My ears are ringing, and this dark ale tastes more bitter than it did a minute ago. When I see the expression on Declan’s face as he returns to the table, I feel guilty for making up that lie. Being around all those Catholics, their guilt has rubbed off on me or something.
“Hi,” I say when he sits down opposite me.
“Hey.”
“I’m sorry I made up that dumb lie. I guess I panicked.”
“Wasn’t dumb at all. It’s what I would have said too. You’re such a good liar. You’d make a good lawyer.” He raises his nearly empty mug. “May all your lies be laced with truth and your truths laced with whiskey.” He twists his lips to the side and shrugs. “Or something a lot cleverer than that.”
I’m about to say what I wanted to say before we started singing, but he slams the mug down on the table, stands, and blurts out, “Should we head to your place? Or maybe I should go home?” There’s that mood again. And here I thought we were done with all that.
“No. Come to my place. I want you to.”
“You sure?”
“You’re coming to my place, Dec. You vill have some kutya. And you vill like it.”
He gets a flash of something in his eyes—horniness, I guess, but I’ll take it. I’ll take it day-by-day with him, and we’ll see where that leads us. Even if it leads to disappointment or worse by January first. At least we’ll have tonight.
Thirty
Declan
DO YOU FEAR WHAT I FEAR?
This has been the best post-Christmas hangover I’ve ever had. I’ve always thought of the hazy period between the 26th and 30th of December as the taint of the holiday season. It ain’t Christmas and it ain’t New Year’s Eve. But Maddie Cooper has