Chapter 33 #2
Do I— he says, interrupted by a loud hiccup. —know you? He sounds like his tongue is too big for his mouth, highlighting his heavy British accent. His eyes look glazed over and his chunky sausage fingers are still messing around with his fly.
I’m your event planner. Can I ask what you’re doing, Mr. Cahill? I ask, as politely as possible. I keep one concerned eye on the Christmas tree, knowing how frequently trees are on the receiving end of unwanted urinary activity.
I gotta . . . I gotta take a piss, he says between hiccups.
He’s given up on his fly and instead, he’s furiously tugging at his pants—that are also refusing to budge, since he’s still wearing his belt.
I think you should go to the restroom, sir, I instruct him in a friendly tone as I take another glance at the gorgeous tree. It looks plenty hydrated.
Mr. Cahill looks up at me, his gaze even fuzzier than before as he pompously pokes his index finger up into the air. I’ll be the judge of that, young lady.
He wobbles dangerously and for a moment I’m worried he’s headed face first into the tree, but he manages to regain his balance. Behind me, the band starts playing the opening chords to All I Want for Christmas Is You.
God, I love this song.
Sir, you’re in a very public pl—
Yes! he shouts triumphantly as he unbuckles his belt.
I clasp a hand to my mouth when the top edge of a pair of rubber ducky boxers comes into view.
For a moment, I don’t know what to do, shocked to know I might be seconds away from learning entirely too much about the prostate issues of one of the most prominent lawyers in New York City.
I’m about to press a button on my headset to ask Marcel for some assistance when I suddenly freeze with my hand halfway to my ear.
The room goes quiet as the first few words of the song grab their attention.
That voice . . . That’s not Kristen’s voice . . . It’s a man’s voice, slightly husky . . .
Very slowly, I turn around and I’m stunned to find myself looking straight into the most beautiful eyes in the world.
Rudy relaxes a little now that he has my attention.
A determined expression appears on his face as his lips shape to the words of my favourite song.
But that’s not even the biggest surprise.
Nope. Rudy is wearing a reindeer costume!
Antlers, glowing red nose, the whole deal.
My breath quickens and I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.
I fiercely ignore the strong stream of urine tinkling against the ornaments behind me, just like I ignore the relieved ahhh that follows.
Rudy grabs the mic a little tighter in his hoof, a hopeful look washing over his face as I take a careful step closer to the stage. Another step, and a hesitant smile appears on his lips. All around me, I hear delighted cries.
It’s that new band! someone yells excitedly. This is awesome! I had no idea they were playing tonight!
As I wipe my clammy hands on my dress, I can’t take my eyes off of Rudy. Despite his distaste for the song, he’s singing his heart and soul out up there on the stage. All for me.
My heart pounds in my chest as I take another step closer. A rush of emotion floods through my body, with hope and joy taking the lead. The grin on my face is so huge that my cheeks begin to cramp up.
Rudy keeps his eyes on me and his smile, just like mine, is growing by the second.
Then Lauren picks up the pace on her drums with Joey adding a speedy bass line to the mix.
Rudy’s head is bobbing faster, too, his antlers wiggling in time with the music as a giggle escapes from my mouth.
Rudy rocking out to a Christmas tune while dressed in a reindeer costume is definitely the most bizarre thing I’ve seen all night—and that’s saying something, since Mr. Cahill just took a leak against the Christmas tree.
Rudy pulls the mic from the stand and glides his hooves across the stage in a perfectly smooth moonwalk as he sings through the second verse. He closes on a lightning fast spin before returning his gaze to me. He’s such a natural performer, leaving everything out there on the stage.
After the little rock ’n’ roll section, he walks up to the edge of the stage and jumps off, straight into the audience.
He never stops singing and dancing as he carves a path through the crowd toward me.
For a minute I feel like Baby in Dirty Dancing, admiring her great love’s dance skills before his muscled arms lift her straight into the air in front of a crowd of people.
Folks shift to the side, but keep staring at him as they clap along to the beat. The lawyers—who abandoned any sense of decorum about five drinks ago—are woo-hoo-ing and whistling as they pat Rudy on the shoulder when he passes.
He’s starting to sound a bit out of breath as he fights his way through the crowd, his eyes clinging to mine as he keeps on singing. With every step he takes, his face beams a little more brightly. On a big breath, he launches into his next few lines.
His wide range is yet another piece highlighting what an incredible vocalist he is. I can feel his voice in every cell of my body as he closes the distance between us.
Just three more steps . . . two . . . one . . . And then he’s right in front of me, holding the microphone in one hand as he brushes a few stray tendrils from my face with the other.
There’s not a sound in the room once he wraps up his final note.
He looks right at me, perhaps a little insecure, but so sincere.
That’s you, he whispers quietly as he turns off the mic and takes off his glowing red nose so I can take him a little more seriously.
My heart is pounding into my ribs so fiercely now that I wouldn’t be surprised if I broke one.
I gaze at Rudy with wide eyes. This was the last thing I’d expected to happen tonight.
One minute you’re trying to stop an inebriated lawyer from watering the Christmas tree, the next minute you’re being serenaded.
I’m so sorry, Emma, Rudy says with a light shake of his head.
I don’t know what to say. So instead, I just keep looking at him while a storm of thoughts rages through my head.
A few hours ago, this was beyond my wildest dreams. Who would have thought Rudy would just ignore his manager’s advice? What if she gets so pissed off about this that she doesn’t want to work with him anymore? Does he really believe it’s worth it to risk all of that for . . . me?
I want you, Emma, he says in reply to my unspoken question.
His expression is serious. Every moment of every day, you’re the person I want to see.
Every day, hundreds, maybe thousands of people cross my path.
On the subway, at the coffee shop, at our shows .
. . But none of them can hold a candle to you.
When I’m with you, I feel like . . . myself.
I feel so much more joy and happiness since I met you .
. . Except for the past few days, of course.
Those just felt like an eternal hangover.
A corner of his mouth pulls up, but the look in his eyes is still solemn.
The folks around the venue respond with a collective awww and I bite my lip as I gaze at him. Yeesh, after that kind of declaration, I’d happily let him hide me away in his closet for ten years, but . . .
What about Sheila? I ask with a hint of hesitation.
I don’t want to put his record deal in jeopardy, and given the number of little red camera lights glowing on phones sticking up out of the audience, this is definitely a moment that’s going to end up online.
Fuck Sheila, Rudy replies quickly. She doesn’t have the right to tell me who I get to love and especially when and where I share that information with the world.
A feeling of warmth spreads through my chest. He said who I get to love . . . I can feel my lips curl into a radiant smile.
You love me? I ask, slightly stunned.
You hadn’t figured that out yet? he replies, cocking his head to one side.
With a laugh, Rudy gestures at the entire circus behind him. Lauren and Marcel look enthralled, unable to keep the enormous grins off their faces. The only thing missing from the picture is a huge bucket of popcorn. Joey pokes a finger down his throat amid a string of gagging noises.
Ignoring him, Rudy continues. Why else would I do any of th—?
I press my lips to his, cutting off his sentence. Rudy tenses for a moment—I probably startled him—but then he wraps his arms around me and draws me in, as closely as possible.
People around us descend into cheers and applause as Rudy and I deepen our tangled kiss. The soft plush of his costume sweeps against my dress. When I try to run my fingers through his hair, I encounter his antlers, then pull them from his head and fling them into the crowd in one swift movement.
What’s with the reindeer costume? I ask curiously, our lips briefly parted so we can catch our breath. Don’t get me wrong, I think you look great, but I have a feeling that singing that Christmas song was more than traumatizing enough for you.
Rudy starts to laugh. Remember our bet? The one where I’d wear a reindeer costume if you managed to convince me to perform at your party?
Yeah, I nod. But—
I’m here because of you, so technically you convinced me. I knew I’d only have one shot at this, so I figured the reindeer suit would increase my odds.
Hmmm, you do make a good point. I chuckle, lifting up onto my toes to drop a kiss on his nose.
Everyone else here is starting to get bored with us now, but I can already hear Kristen’s voice coming through the speakers, and it’s not long before the volume of expensive footwear tapping on the floor picks up again.
Rudy gestures widely at the room with a huge smile on his face as he says, The whole party turned out so well, right? The decorations look incredible.
I look around, taking in all the details, from the shining ornaments to the food kiosks and from the fire pits to the Christmas tree—with a few sad-looking twigs—and I chuckle.
Rudy pulls me close, stroking my back as I nestle my face deep into his warm fur. I close my eyes, breathing in his scent.
Maybe Christmas isn’t the worst after all, he says, muttering into my curls.