Chapter Fifteen
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AUDREY
“I have a question for you,” Willa says.
I park the car in the Fourteener Sports warehouse parking lot. Employees and their families are filing into the building, dressed in festive clothes, for the company holiday party. I kill the car engine and turn down the radio that will continue to play until we open the car doors. Willa and I remove our seatbelts and turn toward each other. Frank Sinatra is imploring us to have a holly, jolly Christmas.
“Shoot,” I say.
“If Greta offered you, or us, a job when our contract is up, would you take it?”
“I don’t know. Would you?”
“I don’t know, either.”
“Why do you ask? Has Greta said anything? Hinted at anything?”
Willa scoffs. “No. She’s been more reserved than normal since I called her an ice queen.”
“It wasn’t very nice.”
Willa furrows her brows. “Oh, Greta knows I meant it as a compliment. She’s having a great time playing the part. She’s so distracted by it that she’s oblivious to you and Toni mooning over each other all day every day.”
“What? No, we aren’t.”
“Oh my God, yes you are. You do a bit better job of hiding it, but poor Toni. You should see the expression on her face when you’re in All-Business Audrey mode.”
I reach into my back seat for my purse and sparkly rainbow Santa hat and hope Willa doesn’t see me blush.
“Oh, my God,” Willa says again. “You have noticed. Which is why you go on longer than you should, overexplaining everything. You know Toni thinks it’s hot.” Willa laughs. “You’re torturing the poor woman. Don’t you see how she squirms in her chair?”
I press my lips together. “Maybe.”
“You are fucking awful,” Willa says, but she’s laughing. “Telling her you can’t be in a relationship yet but winding her up every chance you get. I bet she rubs one off in the bathroom at least once a day.”
“Willa!” I say, but I laugh too. “She’s not innocent in all this. She knows I love her forearms so she’s constantly rolling her sleeves up and flexing her arms and wearing those fucking hiking pants that make her ass look amazing.”
“So, she loves you for your mind and you love her for her body.”
“No one has said anything about love, and I am attracted to more than her body. If we didn’t have this project, would I want something casual with Toni right now? Yes, I would. But we do, so I can’t. End of story.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But you’re changing the subject. Why did you ask if I’d take a job with Fourteener Sports? Do you not like being on our own?” It’s one of my biggest fears, that Willa quit her job to work with me more out of sisterly solidarity than a real desire to start something from scratch and build it together.
“No, I do. I love this project. But I’m not sure if I love the project or if I love the company. I just…I feel at home here.”
I nod. It doesn’t surprise me that Willa is drawn to Fourteener Sports and the We’re All Family Here vibe that everyone gives off, from Greta down to the janitors (who have worked here longer than Greta). Even before I blew up our family by being gay (my mother’s words, not mine) we didn’t have a particularly tight family unit. Ever since we left home, Willa has been searching for the family we lost. I’ve always been happy with just Willa. As much as she claims to the contrary, she misses our mother. The pre-Jesus version one, that is.
“If Greta offers you a job when this is over, you should take it,” I say.
“Only if it’s the two of us.”
“No, Willa. We might be a package deal personally, but professionally we should strike out on our own path if it’s a better opportunity. I know how much you’ve sacrificed for me. Nope.” I put a finger on Willa’s lips when she starts to speak. “You need to do what’s right for you, and only you.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Cross that bridge later. Wait until you see the warehouse.” She puts her reindeer antlers on her head, and I put on my sequined rainbow Santa hat.
I can’t help a gasp of awe when we walk into the warehouse. The main aisle, which is usually full of forklifts moving pallets to and fro, is lined with booths built to look like a snow-covered European village. Each department has their own booth: food, crafts for kids, face painting, and midway games complete with prizes (of a much higher quality than the typical state fair midway junk), with the department Christmas tree beside each one, ready to be judged.
“How in the world did the warehouse get anything accomplished last week?”
“Honestly, I was here while they did it and I’m not sure. Everyone knows what needs to be done and does it. It’s a pretty well-oiled machine.”
At the end of the “street” is a gazebo with an enormous green wingback chair and a Christmas tree with what looks like a hundred presents piled under it. Greta and Toni stand in front of the gazebo with an older couple that can only be their parents and founders of Fourteener Sports.
“Audrey and Willa Adams, these are our parents, Piero and Ingrid Giordani,” Greta says.
“What a pleasure to meet you,” I say.
“We absolutely love your company,” Willa says.
“Thank you,” Ingrid says. “We’ve heard a lot of wonderful things about you from Greta.”
“And Toni,” Piero says. “She couldn’t stop singing your praises, Audrey, for all the help you gave her putting her presentation together.”
“Greta was even impressed,” Ingrid says, “which is saying something, because she’s a hard nut to crack.”
“So I’ve learned,” Willa says.
Greta levels Willa with an expression we’ve come to know well over the last few weeks, part challenge, part amusement, and lately part triumph.
“Toni had all the ideas and did all the work. I was just a guiding hand. She created a solid, achievable ten-year plan,” I say.
Mom, Dad, and Greta laugh.
“If you can keep Toni from jumping in with both feet without thinking, then you’ll be a miracle worker,” Ingrid says.
“Jeez. I love you, too, guys,” Toni says.
“We wouldn’t be good parents if we didn’t tease you a little bit,” her dad says. “Keep you humble.”
“So, enough talking about how awesome Toni is. We have a problem,” Greta says. “Ned fell off a ladder replacing a fuse in his roof lights so he can’t be Kris Kringle.”
“I’m going to do it,” Toni says.
“Not you, Greta?” Willa asks.
“No, I don’t like kids enough,” Greta admits.
“You don’t like kids?” I ask.
Greta shrugs one shoulder. “I haven’t been around enough to have much of an opinion. I’m sure when Toni has kids I’ll love them, or at least tolerate them.”
“Since when am I having kids?” Toni asks.
“Since your sister volunteered you to give us grandkids,” Ingrid says.
“It was our Christmas present this year,” Piero says.
Toni laughs. When her family’s sincere expressions don’t change, her laughter dies. “No way. It’s the straight daughter’s job to give grandchildren, not the lesbian daughter.”
“I called it first,” Greta says.
“Antonia, you know you would be a much better mother than your sister,” Ingrid says.
“Ouch,” Willa says around a laugh.
“Hey!” Greta replies. “What does that mean?”
“You did just say you don’t like kids, Greta,” Willa says.
“OK, enough talking about kids that aren’t going to happen,” Toni says. “I need an elf.” She looks at me expectantly.
“You want me to do it?” I ask.
Toni nods.
“Sure. That’ll be fun.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“You have to wear my Buddy the Elf costume,” Toni says.
“Now I want to do it,” Willa says.
“Not on your life, Rudolph,” I say. “I’m sure Greta can find something for you to do.”
“Absolutely. Come with me.”
“You better be leading me to the bar,” Willa says.
Greta shakes her head, but there’s a hint of a smile behind it. “There is no bar.”
“Before we get distracted,” Ingrid says, “we want to invite you two to spend Christmas with us in Aspen.”
Willa and I stare at the Giordanis in surprise, then at each other. Christmas with the Giordanis? Our clients?
“What did you have in mind? For us to drive down for a couple of hours on Christmas Day?” I ask. Surely not. Traffic on I-40 west of Denver will be a nightmare. I can’t imagine anyone asking someone to do that. I don’t want to do that. How in the world can we turn this down, though?
“Oh, no. We would like for you to come for a few days. Say Monday through Boxing Day?” Piero says.
“Oh, we couldn’t impose like that,” I say.
“It’s not an imposition, trust me,” Ingrid says.
“We’ve been talking about it for a couple of weeks,” Greta says. “But didn’t mention it because Mom wanted the invitation to come from her.”
“It’s harder to turn her down in person,” Toni says.
Would accepting this invitation cross a line? Would it compromise my and Willa’s ability to be objective with the project, give criticism when it’s warranted? I think about all the evenings after work the four of us have spent together these last two weeks and realize that somehow we’ve already crossed the line from colleagues to friends. If I’m honest, I crossed a line when I unwittingly slept with Toni two days before the project started.
Oh Christ, do Ingrid and Piero know about that? Their expressions are open and friendly. No suspicion at all. They must not. That’s a relief. But how in the hell am I going to spend days and nights with Toni and keep my attraction from Greta, Ingrid, and Piero? Lord knows Toni doesn’t have a poker face.
One look at Willa and I know that she wants to go. Desperately. I would do anything for my sister, including being sexually frustrated for days on end.
“They’re communicating telepathically,” Toni whispers to her parents. “Willa told me about it. Pretty fascinating.”
I smile and nod at Willa, and it’s decided.
“Don’t feel obligated or put on the spot if you have plans,” Piero says.
“Our plans are to spend Christmas with each other, like every year,” I say.
“We can do that with you, as long as you let us help you with cooking and stuff,” Willa says.
“Of course,” Ingrid says. “Drive down the day after tomorrow and stay through Boxing Day. We are looking forward to sharing the holidays with you.”
“We are, too, Mrs. Giordani,” I say.
“Ingrid, please.” She leans close and stage whispers, “It’s actually Danzig, dear. I kept my name, but we used Giordani in promotional materials early on to make it easier and never stopped.”
“Got it.”
“Let’s get this party started,” Piero says.
“Greta, take me to the bar,” Willa says.
Greta leads Willa away. “This is a kid-friendly party, Willa,” I hear Greta say.
“Why do you think I need alcohol?” Willa says. She looks at me over her shoulder and winks broadly.
Even though I’ve told her multiple times now that I don’t need her to be my wing-woman and lure Greta away, at least not until after the project is over, she doggedly continues to do her best to distract Greta from focusing on me and Toni. She’s going to have to work overtime this weekend.
“She’s doing that on purpose, isn’t she?” Toni asks.
“Winding Greta up? Yes, yes she is.”
“I love her so much,” Toni says. “Come on. Let’s get you changed.”
She leads me to the back of the warehouse to a break room that’s shabby, but spotless.
“We’re in a break room,” I tease. “Are you going to spill cider all over me?”
“Not this time, I don’t think.” She takes the costume off the table and hands it to me. “Here you go.”
It really is a Buddy the Elf costume, complete with elf shoes and all. Toni is taller than I am so it’s not a great fit, but I look passable. When I walk out of the bathroom, Toni is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but red Santa pants, hiking boots, and a sports bra. My stomach flutters at the sight of her toned abs. I should have given them more attention when I had the chance. I lick my lips, partly from memories and partly from the delayed gratification when I finally do get a chance to trace those ridges with my lips and tongue, just as Toni looks up and sees me.
“That looks so much better on you than me,” Toni says. “You look like Peter Pan with your short hair.”
“Thanks.” I nod toward her almost naked torso. “You better cover those up before someone comes in and sees me ogling you.”
“Ogling?” Toni’s clear blue eyes spark with mischief. “How unprofessional, Miz Adams.”
“Says the woman flashing her abs.”
“What? These old things?” Toni holds her arms above her head and rolls her abs up and down in a mockingly sexy dance move.
I can’t help but laugh. “Of course you know how to do that.”
“It took me months to master it.”
“Put those things away before someone gets hurt.”
Toni laughs and zips up the coat, and buckles the belt.
“I love how you make me laugh,” I blurt.
Toni looks up at me in surprise, her eyes still sparkling. “This isn’t normal? Laughing together?”
“Not in my experience, no. I didn’t realize I wanted it until—” I almost say I had it , but I don’t really have it yet, do I? “I’ve only had it with Willa.”
Toni moves closer and puts her hand over her heart. “I promise, if I ever get the chance, I will make it my mission in life to make you laugh. At least fifteen times a day.”
“That’s a strangely specific number.”
“It’s my favorite.”
“Any reason?”
“Greta’s is seven and I always had to be twice as good as she is, plus one.”
“Oh my God, are you that competitive in everything?”
Toni leans forward and drops her voice. “Have you forgotten about fair ups?”
God no , I think. I want to move closer, have to physically restrain myself from pulling Toni to me and crushing my mouth against hers, just as I’ve had to do for the last month whenever she’s looked at me like that. I’m not sure what Toni sees, but I see flashes of what could be: lazy mornings in bed, browsing weekend markets hand in hand, cooking for her, laughing together and yes, I’ve even tried to imagine going on hikes with her. It’s a testament to Toni’s charisma, and our chemistry, that I picked up a hiking boot on my last visit to a Fourteener Sports store. I put it down quickly because it was big, bulky, and ugly. But I have looked, tried to imagine wearing them, hiking up some godforsaken rock-strewn, root-covered trail with a thousand-foot drop off into a rushing river on one side of the narrow trail and a slick rock face with no handholds on the other.
Toni laughs. “Please tell me you weren’t just thinking about kissing me.”
“What?”
“You just grimaced.” Toni contorts her face into a pained expression.
“I did not look like that.”
“You did, and if that’s your reaction to kissing me, I’m in deep trouble.”
“No, I wasn’t. I mean, yes, I was. At first. Then I started thinking about hiking.”
Toni’s grin widens. “We’ll parse out why thinking about kissing me led you to hiking later, but I have to know what you were imagining.”
“A narrow trail with a slick rock face on one side and a very steep drop off into a roaring river on the other,” I say.
Toni rubs her chin and gets a comically thoughtful expression on her face. She nods. “You weren’t thinking about hiking.”
“I was definitely thinking about hiking.”
“No, it’s a metaphor.”
“Oh, is it?”
“For us. Our relationship. On the one side it’s a rock-solid friendship. On the other is a big old roaring river of passion.”
“Passion?” I’m trying to stop a grin from breaking across my face.
“Um, yeah. Don’t even act like you’ve forgotten about our night together. Passion, Audrey. Insane attraction. Unresolved sexual tension that makes Sam and Frodo look like a crush.”
“Sam and Frodo?”
“You don’t like that example?”
“I’m thinking Sherlock and Watson.”
“OK, that’s legit. Mulder and Scully?”
“Gillian Anderson and anyone she shares a screen with.”
“God, that woman could step on me like a bug,” Toni says.
“Hard same.”
“Anyway!” Toni says. “My point is that your mind going from kissing me to a horror hiking scenario that I would never put you in, at least not until we’ve been together for a few years?—”
“I knew it.”
“It’s all just a stand-in for your fear about us.” Toni steps forward and takes my hands. “You don’t have to be scared of me, or us. I respect that you need time. It might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I jump off cliffs wearing a bodysuit with wings, so that’s saying something. But I promise. I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”
I’m not sure if I believe her, that’s a big promise to make, but there is no doubt in my mind that Toni wholeheartedly believes it.
She’s very close. “Do you know how hard it is working with you?”
You have no idea.
“Is it? I can’t tell,” I say instead.
“Then you’re blind as a bat, Audrey Adams. I feel like all I do is stare at you.”
Stare at me is all Toni does when we’re around each other, but if I acknowledge that I’ve seen it, if I break even a little, I will push her up against the wall and kiss her until she forgets her name.
“Every day, every time I see you, I want to kiss you so much it’s almost a physical pain,” she says.
I swallow hard, reminding myself of all the reasons kissing Toni is a bad idea, the least of which is, if I kiss her, I won’t be able to stop and there is a warehouse full of families on the other side of the unlocked break-room door.
“This isn’t easy for me either, Toni.”
She raises her eyebrows, clearly stunned.
“Oh, come on. That can’t be a surprise,” I say.
“I’m surprised you admitted you want to kiss me.”
“That I want to kiss you?” I laugh. If she only knew. “You won’t have to wait forever. We won’t have to wait forever. Six or seven months.”
“OK, just so we’re clear here, do you mean that you want to, like, date me eventually?”
“Yes, I do.” I smile. “Merry Christmas.”
Toni’s grin widens. “That’s the best Christmas gift ever.”
“You’re welcome. Now. Enough flirting. Let’s go put smiles on a bunch of kids’ faces.”
“Sure, but for the record, there’s no such thing as too much flirting.”
I hold the door open for her and roll my eyes good-naturedly. “Simmer down, Casanova.”
“I think you mean Santa nova.”
“Oh my God, that was awful,” I say, but can’t help laughing.
“Yeah, I know,” Toni says, extremely proud of herself, nonetheless.
The children in line to see Santa start cheering and screaming when they see Toni. She immediately bellows a deep, “Ho, Ho, Ho!” and something deep inside me stirs.