Chapter 25
just fucking jolly
Nick
What I wouldn’t have given for two fingers of whiskey neat right about now. With snowflakes falling steadily outside the car and the human ice sculpture sitting next to me, I could’ve used the phantom feeling of warmth whiskey provided.
The back of the town car was laden with tension. I supposed it couldn’t be helped since it was the first time I had been in such close proximity to Candy since she’d asked me to sleep in another room.
If it wasn’t for us having tickets to a sought-after holiday-themed production, I almost doubted we’d be sharing space this soon.
But, like the operatic music we’d be hearing tonight amid the dancers and other performers, Candy was passionate and possessed unmatched determination.
So, even in the face of a little tension, she found reason to carry on like normal.
She shimmered beside me like a million tiny stars in the night sky. She was wearing a red sequin dress that I’d swear was designed in the bowels of hell to torture me and make me want to get down on my knees.
I considered reaching out to try to touch her hand that was positioned neatly in her lap atop her purse, but thought better of it.
I even considered trying to talk to her, but her red-painted lips had the appearance of thin slits, so again, I thought better of it.
If dinner with my mother hadn’t gone like it had, I wondered how different this car ride would have been. Certainly she would have heard me try my hand at the piano. We could have talked about that. I could have touched her with fingers that tickled the ivory keys.
Oh, screw it. I reached out without another thought and rested a hand on her thigh.
The slit in her dress giving me the perfect opportunity to touch her.
My eyes met hers, searching for approval, which I didn’t get.
Instead, she looked down, her hazel eyes melting, but only for a brief second before hardening again. Jesus, woman.
She swept her hand to her side and pulled her coat closer around her body, essentially brushing my hand off her and denying me any further opportunity to touch her. Her actions caused my heart to constrict in my chest.
Forget wishing I had a glass of whiskey. If I was wishing for things, then I wished for an ice pick so I could chisel away some of what was keeping Candy locked away from me.
Thankfully, my misery was coming to a halt. The driver finally pulled up to the music hall, thereby ending the car ride from hell, no matter how brief it had been.
Walking in, I allowed my interest to be piqued by the most pedestrian shit just to give me an excuse to stop staring at Candy. Thinking about Candy. Wanting Candy.
“I wonder if the dancers will wear those lovely dresses that resemble presents this year as one of their costumes,” she said randomly as a flock of people ran around us.
Part of me wondered if she was just talking for the sake of talking, impaling the silence with useless words.
She should’ve known that not only did I not give a shit, but I had no fucking clue how to respond to that.
“Are we early?” I decided to ask in response.
Just as random, but also something I genuinely wondered.
She fussed with the long gloves on her hands, the fabric catching my eyes as she focused on them with such intensity. “No, I don’t believe so. Although, you’re the one with a watch,” she reminded me, looking up and going to point at my wrist. Instead, she pointed over my shoulder. “Look.”
Following her finger with my eyes, I turned around but didn’t see anything worthy of seeing. I swung my gaze back to Candy. “Wha—”
Just then, a life-sized gingerbread figurine got up close and personal with me, and I saw tiny, colorful gumdrops dancing over my head right before I fell to the ground. Even a loud scream from Candy was unable to tether me to the here and now as my eyes flickered closed.
* * *
Coming to, I looked around at all the faces shoved up in mine. It was quite the sight—scary actually, minus Candy’s stunning one.
Candy cleared her throat and ceased waving her delicate hand over my face. “It’s okay,” she announced, her expression relaxing. “He’s okay.”
Slowly, one by one, the ugly mugs started retreating, and I was able to zero in on the pain I felt in the back of my head.
It matched the pain I felt on my forehead.
Probably from being clocked in the head by a…
gingerbread man. Goddamn holiday cookie I officially loathed with every fiber of my being.
I meant it, I hated gingerbread. The entire cookie was being written off. The decoration. Anything that involved gingerbread could kiss my ass.
Bent over me, Candy’s lips curled up in a sweet smile.
It was touching, really. It would have been more touching if I didn’t want to find the jackass responsible for clocking me with a figurine and hit him over the head with it.
“People were worried,” she said, her voice soothing and breaking into my thoughts.
“People are nosy.” It was ironic none of those people worked for the production company or the venue, otherwise I was sure we’d be peppered with questions all getting to the fact that they wanted to avoid a lawsuit.
Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. That was the very last idiotic thing I needed.
Employees sweating, lips flapping, jaws twitching, it would have all made sense and been to be expected, but that didn’t mean I wanted to deal with it.
“They were probably just mesmerized.”
“Yes. I hear a man lying on the floor is the next best thing to sex in the back of a cab,” I replied dryly. “Really entertaining and a reason for mouths to hang open.”
She swatted my chest, looking heavenward before staring back at me. “Mesmerized by the fact that you are by far the most handsome unconscious man.”
I brought a hand to the back of my head as I started to sit up on the cold marble floor. “You can keep the compliments coming,” I said, my nerves suddenly feeling like they’d been touched at the ends by a flame.
Candy shrugged and brushed my hair back, kneeling on the floor now in her fancy dress and coat. “It wasn’t intended to be a compliment.” Lie. She helped me up, leaning me against her slender torso. “Are you okay?”
Slowly, I let my gaze swing around the now empty entry hall, quite unlike the way it’d been when we’d walked in. Finally, I nodded and made a move to stand up, Candy’s hand never leaving my arm.
“Good,” she finally commented, clearly taking this as a sign that I was indeed okay. Then, as if she was being controlled by a switch, she flipped on me—from caring and compassionate to cold and annoyed again. Her grip on my arm dropped, and she turned on her heel, walking to the door.
“Aren’t you going in the wrong direction?” I asked, not hiding my confusion. As she stepped outside into the snowy evening, I quickly followed her. “Candy, don’t walk away from me.”
Outside, I turned around, looking for her, and found her standing on the sidewalk, bending down and picking up a ball of snow. Compacting it in her glove-covered hands, she turned to face me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, wondering if that fall did serious damage to my head since I obviously had no idea what was going on anymore. Honestly, it made me pause and wonder if maybe Candy was hit in the head too, and I just didn’t know it.
Her expression the picture of cool amusement, she narrowed her eyes and threw the snowball she held in her hands at me. All right. Throwing a snowball. Did we go back in time? “You ruined the lovely evening I had planned,” she said, making me do a double take. I ruined the—
No, no, no. I didn’t think so. The gingerbread ruined the evening. And that wasn’t even the most ridiculous thing. I didn’t even know how to respond to my wife, who had thrown a snowball at me. “Wh—”
Readying another snowball, she narrowed her lips.
I could practically feel the heat emanating from her.
Too bad it wasn’t enough to melt the snow she packed so tightly in her hands.
She was upset, and for no reason at all.
We’d seen this production before. I was sure she’d see it again.
Who gave a crap? Pelted with another snowball, she declared, “You just have to ruin everything, don’t you? ”
I threw my hands up in the air. That was enough.
I was the one who had been hit over the head and unconscious.
I had a knot on the back of my head from hitting the ground after being knocked in the forehead from a figurine that had no business being that large.
I mean, damn it, size was important. It needed to be considered for things like that.
Especially when idiots decided it was a good idea to walk around with them in crowds of people over their shoulder, swinging them around.
Before I knew it, another snowball hit me square in the chest. Who knew Candy could’ve played softball? “You couldn’t just let me have this?”
Another snowball went flying. What did she have, a stash over there now?
“It’s Nick’s Christmas.”
A snowball hit my arm and promptly broke apart.
“You and your mother’s Christmas, apparently.”
Another snowball went flying.
“You want a divorce, fine, but I asked for one thing. Tonight was important to me. It was special.” She held up another snowball, grunting as she looked up. “And you had to go and get clocked by a gingerbread man.”
She took another perfect shot, hitting me with what appeared to be the final snowball she had in her arsenal.
Seeing that as my opportunity to finally get close to her, I walked over and put my hands up, ready to grip her by her arms and shake her until she came to her senses.
Because whatever was going on, this wasn’t Candy.
Although, I had to say that I didn’t hate that, for the first time, she was finally having some sort of reaction to something.
“Do you hear yourself? I was the one who got hit with that stupid giant decoration. And now you’re throwing snowballs at me.
I didn’t set out to ruin anything. What the hell is this, attack Nick night? ”
She shrugged out of my grasp. “Sorry.” Then she pulled her coat tight against her body and turned her head, looking away from me. “It’s all right. Maybe this was good fortune.” I didn’t see how that was the case. “Now we can go home and get a good night’s rest for the gala tomorrow night.”
Oh, just fucking jolly. Another night out. Hopefully, Candy wouldn’t be planning on practicing her throwing arm again.