Page 3 of Yule Know It When You See It
Desiree leans her forearms on the table, beaming at the decorated trees surrounding us, the Chicago skyline lit in the distance with the seasonal red and green. “I ordered us loaded nachos. Hope that’s alright.”
“More than alright. I’m positively famished.” I gasp. “Ooo. Pumpkin spice eggnog spiked with Bacardi? Yup.” Flipping the menu shut, I flutter my fingers. “That was easy.”
“You’re adorably predictable.”
I scrunch my nose at Desiree. “Should I take that as a—”
“Compliment. Yes.” Des slaps her palms against the hard surface between us. “So, let’s get down to brass tacks. We want to gossip on who the new sports writer will be.”
A maroon cocktail napkin resting near my pinky calls to me, and I snatch it, making it into meaningless origami. “I may have already tabulated that in my head.”
“Of course you have,Miss Fiction Writer.”
The waiter approaches our table, young and spry, with such flawless posture it makes me sit straighter. “Ladies, how are we this evening?”
“Wewill be even more fabulous with a couple of those eggnogs,” Desiree answers, resting her chin on her folded hands and granting the waiter a sparkling grin.
The waiter smiles back and removes a tablet device from his front black apron pocket. “Fine choice. Which ones would you like? And cold or warm?”
“Warmed? Mm, that sounds divine,” I practically groan, clearing my throat from fear of how sensual I sound.
Desiree clucks her tongue against her teeth, staring the clothes right off our waiter before speaking. “I’ll have the original eggnog with Amaretto. And my counterpart here will have the pumpkin spice special. Both nice andwarm.”
“You got it. Be back in a jiff.” The waiter stays an extra heartbeat, giving Des the hooded come-hither eyes before whisking away.
“Fancy the waiter, do we?” I tease, tossing a ripped part of my napkin at her to snap her back to planet Earth.
She jumps and yelps, batting the napkin away from her face. “Youarefamiliar with my mating rituals. This should come as no surprise. Now—” Des leans back. “Out with it. Who do you envision the new sporty person to be?”
“Well, a guy for one.”
“Naturally, as ninety percent of them are. Tall, dark, handsome?”
The skin beneath my eyes crinkles and twitches. “Do I always describe the same dude?”
“More or less. His eyes often change color. Have a type there, Hackett?” Des raises a sculpted brow.
“Who knows what type I have? I think the concept of tall, dark, and handsome is intended to be ingrained in you as a romance author or something.”
My eyes grow as wide as Moonpies once I notice the waiter returning with our drinks in handled glass mugs complete with whipped crème, cinnamon sprinkles, and garnished with cinnamon sticks. He rests mine in front of me first, and with Desiree’s, he discreetly places a napkin underneath.
“Enjoy,” he says to Des, his voice low and husky.
Desiree bites the corner of her lip, watching him walk away and unabashedly checking out his ass.
I scoop the drink into my palms, wrapping my hands around the warm glass. “Phone number on the other side of that?”
Desiree lifts a corner, and her cheeks turn rosy. “Yup.”
“You, too, are adorably predictable.” I give a playful wink.
“When are you jumping back on the horse? Your ‘I’m concentrating on my career this year’ excuse has turned into several years. Gotta have a life outside of work, Theo, my dear.” Des flashes a coy grin, holding her eggnog with both hands and sipping it.
A deep sigh pushes from my chest, and I trace a circle on the table. “It’s not as if I’m closed off to the idea. I’ve just been out of the loop so long I wouldn’t know what to look for.”
Desiree’s foot bumps mine under the table. “You’ll know it when you see it, Theo.Trustme.”
“That easy, huh?” Sticking my bottom lip out, I scan the patio. “Nope. The love of my life isnotup here. Can confirm.”
