Page 22 of Daddy's Christmas Elf
Grey laughed. “Yes, I think I can. You say you have a business plan—”
“I do. Fully thought out and costed.”
“If you want an impartial view, I’d be happy to look over it at any time. You know where to find me.”
Eli’s eyes widened, as his mouth formed a smallO.“Thank you. And you’re right, I do know where to find you.” He buried his face in his mug — surely any tea left was stone cold by now — but Grey didn’t miss the flush that washed across Eli’s cheeks.
Silence settled between them, but it didn’t have time to take root as Trevor, fresh from a nap in front of the fire, decided he wanted to try and snuggle between them. His stubby legs made him clumsy, and Eli scooped him up but instead of settling in between, he climbed into Eli’s lap and curled into a very comfortable looking ball.
“You’ve won him over. He’s not very good with people, and he usually likes to keep himself to himself, but…” Grey bit off the rest; he might just as well have been talking about himself.
“Always had animals as a kid. It’s why I ended up at The Perky Pet Company, where I’m carving out my stellar career.” Eli snorted, as he poured all his attention onto Trevor. “You know, you should at least put up your Christmas cards.”
“What?” Grey was taken aback by the sudden change in subject. Eli looked up at him as he stroked Trevor’s short fur.
“They’re on the side, by the tree. A big stack of them.”
“The cards.” Grey glanced over at the pile teetering on the edge of the bookshelf. He’d done nothing more than glance at them as he’d thrown each one aside. “I haven’t had time to put them out.”
Eli’s arched brow was all the evidence Grey needed that his answer was lame and pathetic.
“It’d make the room look more Christmassy. So would some proper decorations on the tree — they’d at least cover it up.”
“I get the distinct impression you don’t like my tree.”Nor do I.Grey kept a straight face.
“Only an impression? I mean, it’s not exactly festive, is it? Even the three foot mini one I’ve got in my room at Benny’s is better.”
Grey looked across at the stark collection of branches in the corner. Minimalist and modern had been the supplier’s description, hung with a few twisted pieces of metal that represented god alone knew what. It didn’t look anything like the tree he knew growing up, all tatty and bedraggled as it was pulled from the attic on 1st of December of each year, and dressed with as much tinsel tat as it could support.
“I wanted something less—”
“Christmassy?” Eli laughed. “It looks like it should be in the foyer of a dental practice.”
“Or the offices of a City bank?” He quirked his brows at Eli, before he took another look at the tree. It was truly horrible.
His gaze settled on the pile of cards; he supposed he should put them up.
“I’ll help you, if you like?” Eli said, reading his thoughts, and before Grey could answer Eli deposited a disgruntled Trevor on the rug who, with a sharp yap, wandered from the room.
Eli picked up half the pile and began dotting them around. “Lots of robins this year.” He held aloft a card depicting the red breasted bird perched on a snowy branch. “Do you think there are fashions in cards? One year, it’s all Santas, the next reindeer. Or elves,” he said laughing. “Oh, there’s one here you haven’t opened.”
Eli handed over a large, embossed, cream envelope. Grey’s heart fell, and a burning tingle raced up his arm as soon as his fingers touched it. He stared down at it, knowing exactly what it was, which wasn’t Christmas cheer.
“Grey?”
“It’s not a Christmas card.” He tapped it against the fingers of his other hand. “I suppose,” he said quietly, “I thought if it was out of sight and unopened, I could pretend it didn’t exist.” He felt Eli come and stand next to him, the younger man’s closeness a comfort he didn’t realise he needed.
“Then what—?”
“It’s a wedding invite, for the summer.”
“And you don’t want to go? Can’t you say you’ll be away, or something?”
Grey stared down into Eli’s upturned face. If only it were that easy.
“No, I can’t.”
“Why? If you really don’t want to be there, don’t be. Whose wedding is it, anyway?”
