Chapter Twenty-Nine
Julia
“Okay, tomorrow night is The Santa Clause.” She places the paper back down on the table and grabs the remote, flipping from the movie to one of those cheesy Christmas romances we both can’t help but love. Lacey Chabert appears on screen, and Alex perks up. “Oh, I like this one.”
She pulls the weighted fleece blanket I got her for her twenty-fifth birthday, just two days before, up to her chin and settles in.
I smile at how cute she looks. It’s getting late, but I’m in no rush to leave.
In fact, I’ve crashed here a few times since Halloween, when we stayed out way too late and drank way too much.
Nothing’s happened. At least, nothing scandalous.
It’s not that I don’t want anything to happen. Because I do. It’s taken eight months, but I finally feel like myself again. The guilt and heartache since leaving Brian has eased, and I think I’m finally at a place where I’m ready to move on.
“I was wondering,” I say during the first commercial break, “and it’s totally okay if you say no.
” Alex looks at me, her expression holding intrigue.
“If you’d go to my office holiday party with me next weekend?
I know it’s short notice, and you won’t know anyone, and we’ve invited a bunch of clients, so you’d have to schmooze and dress up all fancy—”
“I’d love to,” she says before I can give her any other reason not to go. She narrows her eyes. “How fancy are we talking?”
“Pretty freaking fancy.”
She hums thoughtfully. She snags one of the fortunes cookies and breaks it in half. “Pretty freaking fancy it is,” she says, then pops one of the halves in her mouth, completely disregarding the fortune.
Alex arrives exactly on time. She’s been like that since she’s been back. Punctual, reliable, and here.
Which, of course, means I’m running late.
I fix the strap on my left heel and grab my earrings from my vanity and attempt to put them on while I rush to the door.
I tried to be ready on time, really, but my hair didn’t want to cooperate, and it took me so much longer to curl and pull back into a semi-elegant updo than it should’ve.
Then I had second-guessed my dress. Did it show too much skin?
Not enough? Should I bring a jacket or would a cardigan be enough? Everything just kind of fell apart.
I’m just about to explain this to Alex when I pull open the door, but the sight of her makes all my excuses get caught in my throat.
She leans against the door frame with her hands tucked casually in her front pockets.
Her hair is brushed over one shoulder, and she sports a little bit of makeup, just enough to make her dark eyes pop.
But it’s her form-fitted black suit that really does it for me. Because holy fucking suspenders.
She smirks at my gawking. “Fancy enough?”
“Wow,” I say, unable to string together any form of coherent thought other than that singular syllable.
Her smug expression slips at the same time her gaze drops. “Wow is right,” she says breathlessly. I glance at my tight red dress, the one with the slit up the leg and tasteful but moderate neckline. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”
Satisfied that all my freaking out was justified, I adjust her collar, even though it doesn’t need adjusting at all. “This suit is nice.”
She watches me while I slowly run my hands along her shoulders and pretend to tuck the back of her tie underneath her collar. “I thought about a little black dress, but it’s cold outside, and this is way more comfortable.”
As much as I’d love to see said little black dress, what she decided on is perfect. I gently scratch the back of her neck, debating whether to voice my thought, when my phone buzzes, indicating our ride has arrived. “Our car is here,” I tell her and spin so my back is facing her. “Zip me up?”
She takes a step toward me, clearly in no rush, and pushes the small batch of hair that dangles low from my clip off the back of my neck. Slowly, she pulls up the zipper and takes another step closer, placing her hands on my waist.
“You are stunning.” Her breath is warm against my skin, and I tilt my head, a silent invitation.
One she doesn’t take.
She takes a step back, and when I turn to face her, she smiles. “Those heels make your legs look great.”
We check our coats and step into a large room decorated with silver accents and white twinkling lights. It looks like a winter wonderland. Alex offers me her arm, and I motion to the open bar to our left.
“Isn’t this familiar?” she asks. “Fancy party. Plenty of drinks. Hotel rooms.”
Her suggestive tone makes my cheeks feel warm, and I elbow her in the ribs. “Behave.”
She leans in close and tsks in my ear. “With you looking like that? I’ll do my best.”
We find a space at the bar, and Alex orders two white wines while I sit on one of the barstools and cross my legs. That’s been happening a lot lately, the flirting. It’s been ramping up, and I know it’s only a matter of time before one of us caves and does something about it.
She hands me my glass and leans casually against the bar. I catch a whiff of her familiar burgamot scent, and it sends my sense into overdrive. “See anyone you know?” she wonders, scanning the decent-sized crowd.
“Plenty, but no one I’m dying to talk to,” I admit. Most of the coworkers who I consider friends either aren’t here yet or are out of sight. “Thank you for agreeing to this. I know you’d rather be doing pretty much anything else.”
“That’s not true. Besides,” she says with a lopsided smile, “who doesn’t love a good holiday party?”
“Me,” I say through a chuckle.
Then I hear her. A laugh that resembles a metal fork scraping along a porcelain plate. It makes me cringe. “Oh no.” I chug the last bit of wine and grab Alex’s to finish hers as well.
“Whoa. What has you so on edge? Is it your boss?”
I stare as a blond head of hair moves past the bar and in the direction of the CFO. I instantly relax. “I don’t think she saw us.”
Alex perks up, clearly excited at the prospect of a little drama. “Who?”
“Suebelle,” I say without taking my eyes off her. She is not someone I want to mingle with tonight.
“Suebelle? Is that, like, one word?”
Our CFO is intercepted by a client, and Suebelle, knowing she’s been politely dismissed, starts to move again.
Probably trying to find her next victim.
Her wandering takes her closer to the bar, and I quickly try to find somewhere for us to hide.
I grab the front of Alex’s jacket and lead her to an empty corner, hidden by a large, tinsel covered beam.
“Why are we hiding from Suebelle?” Alex whispers.
I sigh, knowing I probably overreacted. “She’s just a lot. And she’s a little bit obsessed with you.”
“With me?” She glances over her shoulder, clearly even more curious, but thankfully, Suebelle is nowhere to be seen. “Care to explain?”
“She’s nice, she’s just super energetic and overly chipper and so, so loud.” I wince just thinking about how she has absolutely no indoor voice. “We work in different departments, but one day, she saw a picture of you on my desk and had a lot of questions—”
“You have a picture of me on your desk?”
I ignore the look she gives me, one that’s a cross between surprised and arrogant. “She wanted to know if you were single and asked a ton of questions, and now, every time she sees me, she asks about you, and I know she’s going to just burst when she sees you here.”
“What picture?”
Someone walks by with a tray of what looks like champagne, and I snag two flutes and glare. “I shouldn’t have inflated your ego by telling you.”
“Is it one of me in a bikini?” She tries to take one of the glasses, and I hold it just out of reach. Unbothered, Alex chuckles.
“No, it’s one of us at the last Reds game we went to.” I finally let her have her glass, and she nods as if she knows exactly which photo I’m talking about. The one with her hat on backward and me in her favorite jersey.
Then she leans in close. “You’re thinking about me in a bikini, aren’t you?”
I take a sip of my champagne, a slight buzz making its way through me, and ignore her knowing look. Because, yeah. I totally am.
Suebelle finds us twenty minutes later. Just like I thought she would, she lays on the Southern charm and pulls out all the stops in an attempt to flirt with Alex.
Of course, Alex rolls with it. She flirts back but not seriously enough to indicate genuine interest, and in an instant, Suebelle is positively smitten.
I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes every time she runs her hand down Alex’s arm or throws her head back and laughs way too loudly, attracting curious glances from my colleagues.
“You’re not helping her crush,” I mutter.
Alex slips her hand around my waist and dips her head closer to my ear. “You didn’t tell me she was old enough to be my mother.”
I smirk and lean into her. “What? Not into cougars?”
Her gaze meets mine and drops to my mouth. She bites her lower lip and leans in just a little bit more. “Actually, I’m more into—”
“Julia.”
Her hand falls from my hip at the same time I take a step away from her. The vice president of the company approaches, along with his wife, and just like that, we’re in the thick of it, socializing and sneaking glances throughout conversations.
As the night goes on, it stays harder to focus on mingling. Not because I’m bored or uninterested but because I’m drawn to Alex and how charming she is. She makes my boss laugh and my coworkers swoon, all of them succumbing easily to her wit and humor. And they aren’t the only ones.
I continuously catch myself staring, and each time we make eye contact, my stomach does a little somersault. When she tells a particularly amusing story that has my boss’s wife roaring with laughter, she shoots me a proud smirk, and it’s all I can do not to melt on the spot.
Somewhere throughout the evening, Suebelle swoops in again, this time cornering Alex alone at the bar. I debate whether or not to jump in to save her or wait to see how she handles it.
But the universe decides for us.
A Whitney Houston Christmas song starts to play.
Okay, so maybe it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. After all, how many Christmas songs are there? But the second Whitney’s voice carries lightly over the gleeful chatter, Alex searches the crowd until her eyes finally spot me. She gives me a look, one that says, “Do you hear that?”
I smile and make a W out of my fingers, making her laugh.
That’s when I realize, I’m tired of waiting.
I’m ready to try this with her. To dive in headfirst without pretenses, without excuses, without caution. I’m tired of pretending we’re just friends when we haven’t been just anything for half our lives. I want all of it. The friendship, the partnership, the romance.
I want her.
Once the realization hits, I can’t think of anything else. I don’t want to wait another second.
I weave my way through the crowd, my determination so strong that nothing could stop me from reaching her. Not even the CEO, who steps in front of me with a smile and a look that says he wants to chat.
“Do you mind if I borrow her?” I ask, looping my arm through Alex’s once I finally reach her and lead her away before Suebelle can protest.
“Everything okay?” Her voice is laced with concern.
“I’m ready to leave,” I explain once we’re out of earshot.
“Are you sure? I’m fine to stay if you want to. Suebelle’s actually kind of—”
Unable to stand it any longer, I turn. Alex reaches out to steady herself from crashing into me at the same time I slide my hand around the back of her neck and pull her in for an unexpected kiss.
She lets out a hum of surprise but doesn’t stop it. Instead, her hands go to my waist, and she tugs me close. Immediately, the kiss deepens, as if we aren’t standing in the middle of a crowded room, surrounded by my coworkers.
A burst of laughter rings out from somewhere, causing Alex to break the kiss. We stare at each other, our breathing heavy and the air thick with anticipation. I lick my lips.
“I’ll call a car,” I tell her.
Her eyes darken. “I’ll get our coats.”