Page 29 of Five Days of Christmas Spice

DECEMBER 25TH FIRST DAY OF KINKMAS

The gift is heavy in my hands, and I want to rip it open right in the hallway, but I force myself to not run down the hall and get to my room as fast as I can.

Inside, I tear off the paper, and a card falls to the floor.

I pick it up.

Holly, I would be delighted if you joined me for a sleigh ride this Christmas. Please meet me at the front at 3:00 p.m. Yours, Noel.

The note makes me smile. There is something so gentlemanly about it, so considerate, and it reflects the man I’ve started to get to know.

Gently lifting the lid of the black cardboard box, I take off a layer of tissue paper.

“Oh, wow.”

Reaching into the box, I pull out a fabric bundle laying it on the bed. My heart races. This is so unreal. It’s like I’m on the set of a Hallmark movie.

Delicately, I touch the soft faux fur. I hold it up against me, and it glimmers in the light. The dark green fabric makes my eyes pop. I undo the clasp and slide my arms inside the soft cloak. Inside, the cloak is lined with fleece.

It has pockets! I shove my hands in the deep pockets.

Strolling to the window, I look at the fields toward my Gran’s house. Those child Christmases brought the peace I hadn’t had at home, and I realize I am carrying a little bit of that threat with me into my day-to-day life, where I always feel like I am fighting to keep the peace I’ve found.

When I am dealing with my egocentric clients, I fight with them to get them to listen to me; when dealing with studios and production companies, I fight to be taken seriously.

But with Noel…I don’t have to fight.

Coming here to Vixen’s Paradise was the remedy I didn’t know I needed. My fingers snag on something in the pocket, something metal and cool. Taking the object out of my pocket, I laugh. It’s a gold bullet vibrator; the remote control that goes to this device curiously missing.

My cell chimes, and I answer the call. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

“Holly! Merry Christmas! It’s raining here like a sheet, can you believe that? I bet you and Phil are having a great time on the beach!”

A lump forms in my throat, hearing my Mom’s voice. I understand why we stopped getting together at Christmas after Gran passed, but I think we can create a new tradition. When I talked to Stella last night, she said the same thing.

“I’m not on the beach. Phil and I broke up.”

“Oh, Holly! I’m so sorry! Do you want to come for some Florida sun?”

“I’m actually–” How do I even tell Mom about this? I blush, wondering what she’d think of this adults-only place.

“It’s okay, I’m meeting friends.”

“Okay, honey. Did you tell Stella?”

I smile. “Yeah.”

“And what did she say?”

My cousin is always quick with the one-liners. “Good, because, and I quote, ‘Phil is as interesting as a toaster.’”

My mom howls, and I laugh because it’s true.

“I miss you both.”

“I miss you too. I’m going to come and visit soon.” I mean it and vow to look up my calendar and flights when I’m off the phone.

“Here’s Max.”

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