Chapter 17
Tuesday, December 11
This morning’s Advent calendar treat was a trip to a nail salon a quick drive away from the office. I’d immediately called Anita to say thank you when I’d opened the eleventh box after breakfast and found her note:
Get your glam on!
Make yourself all sparkly and bright!
“This Phenomenails voucher is for two,” I’d said as I popped my plate and knife in the dishwasher. “How about I wait until you’re home so we can go together?”
“No, please don’t,” she replied firmly. “Go today, and take Hazel. Spoil yourselves.”
After thanking her, we chatted about her meeting Jemma next week, which Anita could hardly wait for. I then debated whether I should show her my adorable Rudolph plushie, which I’d decided to take to the office and set next to my computer as my only holiday decoration, or if I should share all the details about what had happened with Marco last night. Trouble was, I didn’t want her to try to force me into deciding what to do about kissing him.
I’d stayed silent, and now, during my lunch break, I sat with my feet in a basin of warm, eucalyptus-scented water while the thick leather massage chair gently pummeled my spine.
Hazel let out a languid sigh. “This is amazing. We should do it more often, like once a month. It’ll help us digest the no-more-working-from-home policy.”
“Deal.” I glanced over to see she’d closed her eyes, a contented smile playing on her lips. Anita had been right to suggest I bring Hazel. She deserved a bit of pampering, especially with how hard she worked both at the office and at home, taking care of Mikey.
“How are we doing?” Cynthia, one of the nail technicians, asked as she came over. “Ready to choose your colors? Callie, are we doing the usual?”
“Yes, please,” I said before changing my mind. “Hold on. I might pick something else.”
Like my haircut, I never deviated when it came to manicures, always leaving the nail bar with the classic white tips and otherwise clear polish, even refusing the hint of artificial pink. I’d never been into elaborate colors, but the holidays were coming up, and maybe Marco—
Marco .
I couldn’t stop thinking about him, my hands in his hair, his arms around my waist, how our lips had touched. The taste of him, the smell of him. The way he’d kissed me, gently at first but with increasing urgency. He’d seemed so bewildered when I’d pulled back, and no wonder, considering what I now knew for sure—he liked me.
As soon as I’d arrived at my apartment last night I’d wanted to call or message him, but I’d said I needed time, and I meant it. I had to sort through my feelings and come out on the other side of this confusion before we spoke again—otherwise, what would I tell him? Besides, wasn’t the adage that distance makes the heart grow fonder? Or maybe it would be a case of out of sight, out of mind. I suppressed a sigh at my desperate attempt at finding an answer in clichés.
“Which color are you getting?” Hazel said, snapping me out of my daze.
I looked at the bottle of vampy red polish but promptly disregarded it. I wasn’t brave enough. Blue? It was my favorite color, but it didn’t feel right. I perused the other options, and when I saw a green glitter reminiscent of the Grinchy wrapping paper Anita had used on some of my Advent calendar packages, it immediately lifted my spirits. Thinking my sister would appreciate the joke, too, I said, “The sparkly green, please.”
“Really?” Hazel said.
“On your hands and toes?” Cynthia asked, and I nodded. “Look at you, being all festive. I love it. Give me a moment to prepare everything. Be right there.”
Almost an hour later, Hazel and I emerged from the nail bar. As we got back to Whitlock & Blake’s offices, I turned my hands left and right, admiring how the December sunlight caught the tiny metallic flakes on my nails.
“Do you like it?” Hazel asked.
“Love it. Yours, too.”
Hazel had opted for a deep burgundy polish, to which Cynthia’s colleague had added tiny silver dots for an extra-festive feel. Neither of us wanted to go to work, but we’d already extended our lunch break, and any longer would attract the wrath of Grant.
“Everything okay with you?” Hazel asked as we waited for the elevator. “You’ve been quiet most of the morning. Has something happened?”
“No, everything’s great,” I replied quickly, not wanting to tell her about the kiss with Marco, either. “A bit tired from all the caroling yesterday. Remind me to send you the video.”
“I’m so glad you’re starting to warm up to the holidays.” Hazel stepped into the elevator ahead of me. “Who knows what else Anita’s calendar will get you to do, and it’s great that Marco’s helping.”
When we reached our floor, I had a quick glance at my phone. No missed calls or messages from Marco, not that I would’ve expected to hear from him considering how we’d left things.
Gosh, why did things have to be so complicated in real life? Unlike the movies, we didn’t have a script to follow. Actions had actual and potentially serious consequences, and happy endings—with friends, lovers, our families, ourselves —were by no means a given. Often, we were too scared to say what was on our mind for fear of the other person’s reaction or rejection, so we said nothing at all.
Later in the afternoon, I walked past the third-floor kitchenette, and Oliver, who I’d heard had been in off-site meetings for most of the day, called out my name. When I popped my head into the room, I saw him sitting alone at the table with a half-eaten sandwich, and his laptop in front of him.
“Hi.” His face transformed into a smile. “Is your hip better?”
“Yes, thanks,” I replied, wondering what else to say, so I added, “How was the engagement venue?”
“Uh, not bad. Hey, I noticed you finally brought in a Christmas decoration today.”
“Slow start getting into the spirit this year,” I said, before hoping he wouldn’t ask me to elaborate. I just wanted to get out of there. “I’d better go back to—”
“Hold on a sec.” Oliver looked at me, shifted in his seat. “Mom mentioned you’re still not going to Pineville for the holidays.” When I shook my head, he said, “I don’t want to deprive you of time with your family because I’ll be next door with—”
“It’s not because of you and Sarah,” I lied. I didn’t want to explain how awkward seeing them made me feel, not when he’d assume it meant I was still in love with him. “I’ve got too much work.”
As he nodded, his gaze dropped to my fingers. “You got your nails done.”
His keen observational skills made me frown, but I held up my hands, wiggling my fingers. “Anita gifted me a mani-pedi, so Hazel and I went together.”
“They look good.”
“Thanks. I’d really better get back to—”
“ You look good,” he said quietly, and just when I thought I’d misheard, he added, “I’m not sure why, but you seem…different.”
His admission made me curious. “Different? How so?”
Oliver shook his head, his brow knitting together as he sat back, observing me. “I guess I was surprised to see you sledding on that green plastic thing.”
“Ha, it’s not like I was skydiving.”
“I didn’t mean you seem different in a bad way,” Oliver said. “It’s…a good thing.”
He was looking at me now with an expression of curiosity. I couldn’t forget that my ex knew me incredibly well, and he was right—I did feel different, in more ways than one. Before I could explore the thoughts and questions further, Hazel walked in, her face buried in her phone.
“Callie, this video’s hilarious,” she said without looking up. “I could watch you caroling all day. Thanks for sending it.”
“You went caroling?” Oliver asked. “Is this from when you were a kid?”
“No, she was at Trinity Square last night with the Raucous Rudolphs,” Hazel said.
Oliver stared at me, eyes wide. “You two went singing?”
“Not me.” Hazel waved a hand as she turned to me. “You weren’t kidding, were you? Marco can’t sing, but I love how he doesn’t care one bit.”
She turned her phone to me, and I leaned in. As I watched, what struck me the most was the pure happiness on our faces, especially when Marco leaned over my shoulder, his head next to mine, our red noses and antlers bobbing along to the music.
My heart did multiple sets of flips because Anita had been right. We did look good together. Really, really good. I’d almost forgotten Oliver was in the room with us until he set his mug on the table, hard.
“Is Marco a member of the caroling group?” he said. “What’s their corny name again?”
“Raucous Rudolphs,” I said. “It’s not corny, it’s funny, and no, Marco’s not a member, he’s my…friend.”
“Well, it certainly sounds like you had a good time.” Oliver got up. As he muttered something about needing to get back to work, I couldn’t help noticing how his lips had formed a taut line and his forehead had crinkled into a deeper frown.
“Somebody’s jealous,” Hazel whispered after he left, and I shook my head. “He is, Callie. I may not have had a boyfriend in a while, but even I can see that Oliver’s envy is making him greener than your nails.”
Six months ago, her words would’ve made my heart sing and my head spin. I’d have jumped for joy in the middle of the kitchenette. Danced to my desk, where I’d have spent the rest of the afternoon dissecting every syllable Oliver had uttered during our conversation. Now, the person I couldn’t stop thinking about was Marco.