Page 69 of The Hanukkah Hoax
The Crystal Christmas Ball had arrived at West Meadow Green with no shortage of enjoyable fresh snowfall and sparkling stupor. White flickering string lights flowed in intersecting patterns from tree bough to tree bough high above, crafting a breathtaking net of sparkles that illuminated the entire area. Old sentinel trees stood as pillars in the corners and were wrapped with intricate netting, which dressed up the otherwise sleeping giants in their festive finest, outlining all the ancient knots and charm that normally went unnoticed.
Like any other wintertime festival, there was an assortment of strategically placed, tasteful light-up candy canes and reindeer, with an ornate sleigh display piled high with illuminated gifts.
The rest of the magic likely happened in the large, heated tent that enveloped every other available inch of the Green, the one being fed by scores of gorgeous couples as they made their way down a lit walkway through shimmering open flaps.
There was no way to tell just how many of those couples Phoebe had lured in with the promise of exclusive access to him as part of her bullshit volunteer scam, so he hadn’t been inclined to show up earlier than needed. Besides, Eden, Captain, Manic, and Sid all ensured Marisa had no shortage of adequate setup help, so coming a bit later with Cal in tow had been a welcome strategy.
“There you are,” Cal rasped out, trotting over with a hand on his chest. “Fuck, that took for-bloody-ever. Parking’s a total shit show. I had to wait in line. Would you believe they’re doing valet-only for this thing?”
“If you’re seeking sympathy, you’ll be waiting in another long line.”
Cal threw his arm over his brother’s shoulder. “Och. Still mad, are we?”
Alec bit back a growl and shrugged the arsehole off him. “A bit.”
“Well, don’t worry. I suspect you’ll be making it up to her tonight.”
Alec could have done without the ludicrous wink or the obnoxious thumbs-up.
Or the heart-thumping eagerness that had him cutting a path through his brother’s sarcasm and spearing toward the tent’s back entrance, where all the volunteers and organizers bustled in and out.
“C’mon. If you’re not going to behave, at least be helpful.”
“When am I ever not helpful?” Cal asked, his words hefted high in mocking astonishment.
“When your mouth is open. Now, get in here, and remember, we’re representing Marisa. We’re supposed to be part of her vendor team.”
Grinning, Cal tugged on his lapels and led the way. “Understood. Besides, it’s not like I need any encouragement when it comes to acting.”
But once they walked into the tent, the glamour around them had blessedly managed to accomplish what Alec had failed at: shutting up Cal.
Crossing the threshold escorted them into a true winter wonderland. Various cocktail tables draped in shimmering white linen dotted the far end of a dance floor, while illuminated ice sculptures accented the perimeter. Alec strained his neck, marveling at how, no matter which way he looked, there was always something to impress his eye and take his breath away. Hanging garlands of frosted evergreens dotted with ice-blue lights draped elegantly around the sizable space, while white-gloved waitstaff moved through the dancing crowd, holding their platters high.
At one end of the room, a band was playing, their lively strings and cheerful bells setting an exuberant pace for the couples who had already assembled on the dance floor. Pockets of champagne, spiked eggnog, hot cider, and various light culinary assortments were accented throughout the room, allowing for excellent crowd flow and maximum enjoyment. As it was a ball and not a formal dining event, the food was light and suggestive, with the event organizers placing an emphasis on movement and dancing rather than sitting and eating.
The design was bloody brilliant, as each guest acted like a drifting snowflake swirling within a couples-only snow globe.
“Is this Monica woman a magician?” Cal asked, equally impressed.
“No. Just a chairwoman.”
“A chairwoman magician.”
But Alec wasn’t in the mood to debate the magical merits of anyone other than one woman in particular.
The woman who had taken up permanent residence in his heart and had made him a miserable bastard to be around when he couldn’t have her scent in his lungs.
The lights toward the back of the tent were far dimmer, making the series of glittery shadows and gowns that were congregating around the tables in the area all the more eye-catching.
He ducked beneath a garland, pushing toward the cluster of people, and pointedly ignored any volunteer donation card stack perched on various table ends. He had just about reached the rear of the tent when he stopped short.
Alec’s chest squeezed, and every part of him ached as he took in Marisa, standing quietly behind her vendor table, conversing with Eden. A dark green floor-length gown painted her contours in muted opulence. Her shoulders were bare, but the neat lace three-quarter sleeves that pulled the subtle pattern from her bodice gave her a sophisticated elegance that full-blooded queens would be hard-pressed to achieve.
Alec’s fingers twitched, and he had to shove them into his pockets lest they pull him across the room to finger the two locks of mahogany tendrils framing her smile. The rest of her hair had been pinned up in a subtle fashion, and the only jewelry she wore was the twinkling silver headband capping her crown.
It was all Alec could do to steady himself against Cal, who had caught sight of the verifiable goddess handing over a treat box to a young couple. Or several treat boxes, as it were, as they’d walked away with a staggering stack and an excited smile.
Then he saw it. The line to get to her table was forming more of a tail than he’d realized, and his damn pride was not handling her popularity as well as he’d hoped.
