My landline rings less than ten minutes later. I pick up and swallow the last bit of turkey in my mouth before answering.
“Hey.” I hear Tahoe’s familiar baritone on the other end of the line. “Merry Christmas to you too.”
I clutch the receiver tightly, totally not expecting his voice in my ear. “Hey. What are you up to?”
“Hitting this club with Carmichael and a few other friends. Want to come?”
I regretfully look down at my flannel checkered pajamas. “No, thanks.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Well. Rachel said you were busy. Goodbye, Regina.”
“’Bye.” I hang up, and whisper, “T-Rex.”
*
I’m still watching the movie at midnight when I hear noise outside my apartment. If I were five, I’d leap to the window thinking it’s Santa Claus, but instead I blame the neighbors for the noise.
I ignore it for a minute, but I hear it again. I mute the Grinch and head over to the door and stand up on tiptoes to peer through the peephole. My breath seizes when I see a tall man outside.
I swing the door open and Tahoe stands on the other side. He’s dressed for the club in a black turtleneck and dark-wash jeans, his blond hair wet from a recent shower. He looks so delicious my mouth waters.
He smirks, but his blue eyes look a little stormy. “Got lost on my way to the club.”
I shake my head, a little breathless.
Yeah. Like this guy would get lost anywhere.
He walks in. “Actually, I didn’t like the idea of you here all by yourself.” He shuts the door behind him.
“I’m not by myself. I’m with the Grinch.”
“I’m comforted then. Hey, I got you something.” He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans with a wicked look in his eyes as he hands me an envelope.
I stare at it.
“It’s a tour of the Blommer Chocolate factory. I thought you might enjoy it,” he says.
“Tahoe.”
He smiles at me, but his eyes still look stormy. “She likes it,” he says.
“She loves it.” I frown. “But I didn’t get you anything.”
He takes a seat on my couch, and I sit down next to him.
“Yeah, you did,” he says.
“Uh, no. I did not.”
He looks at me, his tone low but firm, unapologetic. “Your picture. You didn’t lose it, I took it. You looked lovely and I took it.”
“Wait. What? Why?”
Heat blooms all across my body, and I hate thinking that I’m blushing head to toe.
“You collect those too?” I ask when he doesn’t reply.
He frowns darkly as if he dislikes me thinking this of him and continues looking at me with those tumultuous eyes, then he playfully purses his lips and pokes the tip of his finger into my tummy. “Not yet.”
“Yeah well, knowing you, you’re about to start.”
I rib him, frowning; he ribs me back, laughing for real at last. “What are we watching?” he asks.
“Your twin, the Grinch, whose heart will grow by the end of the film. Watch and learn.”
I motion to the TV and look down at his gift and I want to say thank you again but I can’t trust my voice to speak. It’s my first Christmas gift this year. My parents send me a $50 gift card every Christmas but it hasn’t arrived yet, and this is the first gift that someone actually took the time to choose for me.
So I just hold the envelope on my lap while Tahoe looks at me with blue eyes that look clear now, and I look back into his eyes and smile.
NEW YEAR’S
Trent gave me a box of chocolates when he got back from Atlanta and I’ve limited myself to enjoying only one a day, not because they don’t taste like heaven, but because I plan to look good tonight. I’m determined to spend New Year’s Eve the way I want to spend the entire year.
Wynn said that’s what everyone should do, while she, Rachel and I had our regular weekly brunch. She and Rachel insist that New Year’s Eve sets the tone for the year and whatever it is you start the New Year with, that’s what your focus for the New Year will be.
So I’ve told myself I’m going to be sublimely happy tonight. But since I sometimes seem to require a little help loosening up, I have a few glasses of wine as I mingle with the crowd.
I’m dressed in an emerald green sweater dress and brown leather boots that reach just below my knees, my hair held back in a high ponytail. My ponytail doesn’t manage to tame my curls, but at least it helps keep them off my face.
We’re at a posh New Year’s Eve party, the most decadent in the city. It’s being held in a five-star hotel. The ballroom is aglow with trickling champagne fountains and sparkly trays. Conversation is flowing as well as the alcohol.
Trent and I have mingled together all evening, but when he gets a phone call with bad news about one of his produce trucks being stolen during transport, he excuses himself to go talk outside.
Tahoe arrives very late. Tahoe’s girl is a strawberry-blonde with locks that fall all the way to her waist—the most gorgeous hair I’ve ever seen. I feel a pang of envy as he leads her over, followed by Callan Carmichael and his date.