Page 21 of Holiday Romance
“Yes, I did.” He sounds delighted that I’m playing along. “Okay. Let me play for my losses. Add on a dollar and throw in a movie choice.”
“A movie? I thought you wanted to talk?”
“I’ll talk during the movie. People love that.”
He smiles when I laugh, his hands sliding into the pocket of his jeans.
“It’s a seven-hour flight,” he continues. “You’ve got to break it up.”
Seven hours. The last time I had to sit next to him for that long the very idea of it had filled me with horror. Now I was weirdly looking forward to it.
“So, do we have a deal?” He holds out his hand and I don’t hesitate to clasp it. We shake.
“Deal,” I say, and a smug look crosses his face.
“Thirty seconds,” he reminds me, taking out his passport.
He does it in fifteen.
* * *
Now
I’m starting to think we’re not getting out of Chicago tonight. We might not even get out tomorrow. Andrew’s still waiting in line with at least twenty people in front of him and I’m surrounded by twenty more as I sit by the bar, watching news of the storm as I periodically refresh my phone for flights in the morning.
Nada.
I move back to my work email, refreshing that too, but the damn contract I’m waiting on still hasn’t come back, which means someone’s getting a very early phone call from me tomorrow. I usually don’t like working when I’m with Andrew. He’s pretty understanding about it, encouraging even, but we almost came to metaphorical blows over it the last time we were delayed like this and I don’t want to make tonight any worse than it is.
Another refresh of flights and I shoot off a few emails, fruitlessly trying to catch up. I’m not usually so behind, but Spencer got mono like it’s 1952 and Caleb thinks he’s too important to be working on anything he’s actually assigned to. Gabriela already helps me too much as it is, so I’m not going to go running to her. Which leaves me by myself.
Send email. Refresh flights.
Google career options for tired girls who still want to afford their nice apartment.
“My boyfriend flew out yesterday.”
The man next to me speaks at a normal volume, but he’s not looking at me. His gaze is absent, almost mournful, as he stares unseeing at the row of beer bottles across from us.
“It’s his first time meeting my family,” he continues. “But I had to work last minute so he flew out by himself and now I’m here and he’ll be there. With my parents. Alone. For Christmas.” He takes a shallow breath, finally looking at me. “Do you think I did something in my past life? Is this my punishment?”
“I’m sure they’ll get on great,” I say awkwardly, but he shakes his head.
“They don’t know about him. I mean they knowofhim, but not that he’s… that we’re…” He trails off, that mournful look coming back.
I reach out to pat his back. “Gay?”
“What?” He shakes his head. “No. They know that. We’re vegan.”
Oh.
He groans, dropping his head against the counter. “I had a whole speech prepared. We were going to sit down and discuss it. Steven’s too polite for them. He’ll end up with second helpings of turkey and ham without me there. He’s a skinny guy, you know? My mother’s going to think we can’t afford to eat if he refuses.”
I continue to pat his back until Andrew appears at my shoulder a moment later, looking in concern at my new friend.
“Is he okay?” he asks.
“He’s vegan,” I explain as the man proceeds to bang his head lightly against the bar.
