Page 4 of Christmas Craving
“You should get to know your neighbors,” I said cheerfully.
“I prefer to rely on building security to maintain order.”
I shook my head. “You should re-think that. If the shit goes down and there’s a disaster, it’s good to have people you can rely on nearby.”
Celia gave me a look that clearly conveyed she thought I was nuts. I suppressed a grin.
“Do you want to come in? We’re making dog cookies.”
“You’re making cookies shaped like dogs?” she asked in confusion.
“No, I’m making cookies for the dog,” I corrected.
“Don’t they eat dog food?” she asked skeptically.
Just then the timer went off. I grabbed Arthur’s collar and stepped away from the door, suddenly desperate to crack this woman’s icy shell.
“The cookies are ready. Come on in.”
Celia
Icouldn’t say for sure why I obeyed and ‘came on in’ other than there was something so fascinating about Lanie that I couldn’t resist. Closing the door behind me, I followed her and the dog into the kitchen. She leaned over to retrieve the cookies from the oven and her jeans pulled against her ass in a way I didn’t hate.
She’s chaos,I reminded myself.And way too young for you. Plus her singing is terrible.
I may have been grasping at straws there.
Lanie popped up and spun around quickly, giving me a little smirk that made me wonder if she’d felt me staring at her butt.
“So what’s your story, Celia?” she asked as she put the dog cookies on a rack to cool. Judging by the dog’s excitement, they smelled tasty. Mostly they just smelled like peanut butter to me.
“My story?”
“Yeah, tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living? What are your hobbies? Are you married? Do you have kids? Pets?” She pointed at a stool by the island. “Take a load off and spill. I’ll grab you a water.”
I blinked at the torrent of questions. There was something about me, probably what my sister called my “resting bitch face” that made people hesitant to talk to me if they didn’t know me. And they certainly didn’t tell me to ‘spill’. Clearly Lanie didn’t have that same hesitation. It was fascinating.
“I’m an attorney at Lachlan and Baker,” I finally said.
“Let me guess. Environmental law?” she asked. “Civil rights?”
“No,” I answered before I realized she was kidding.
She smirked. “Yeah I figured if you live in this building it’s probably, what? Corporate law?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
I’d always been proud of my work at the law firm, and I was one of the best attorneys there. Yet Lanie pegging me for a corporate lawyer stung just a little bit, although I couldn’t say why.
She walked over to the refrigerator, taking out two bottles of water and handing me one. “Enough about work, tell me about who you are as a person.”
I just stared at her. No one had ever asked me a question like that before. So I did what I did best as an attorney – I went on the offensive.
“Why don’t you tell me your story, as you put it?” I challenged.
She leaned against the counter, the position putting those reindeer covered breasts right in my line of sight. I couldn’t help but wonder what that thick fabric was hiding.
