“For the love of—” I wince as he honks out a note that could curdle milk. “Is busking whilst pissed a holiday tradition now?”
“Should I go ask to see his license?” Edward asks, steadying his cup as the table lurches again. “Somehow, I doubt he has one. That might scare him up the block.”
I sigh, shaking my head. “No. It looks like he’s taking a smoke break. We’ve been granted a reprieve.”
“Thank God.” Edward rubs his temples. “I’m already battling a headache. I’m getting too old for holiday parties every night.”
I grin. “Matilda’s office celebration was a banger, was it?”
He snorts. “Hardly. That’s why I ended up having that third Scotch. Not all climate scientists are as riveting as my lovely wife.”
“I bet,” I say, chuckling. “Feel free to skip my soiree tonight if you need a night to recover.”
Edward arches a brow. “Really?”
“Really,” I say. “I mean, I can promise you better music and food, but architects aren’t really known for our riveting small talk, either. And I know you have a lot more on your plate this holiday season, now that you’re a husband and head of the family.”
My brother’s shoulders sag. “Thank you for understanding. I think a night in would do us both some good. Poor Matty’s been exhausted by the shopping this year.” He arches a wry brow. “Apparently, our family is a bit ‘odd’ and difficult to buy for.”
I feign confusion. “Really? Us? Odd? I thought every family had a cutthroat pudding contest and a collection of horny holiday antiques displayed in the entryway of their ancestral home.”
He winces. “God, don’t remind me. I thought Matilda’s mother’s eyeballs were going to pop out of her head the first time she saw the elves with the giant you know whats…” He motions vaguely to his crotch, then up toward the ceiling in an arcing motion.
“Oh, I know,” I say, grinning. I can’t wait for Emily to see them. I expect she’ll laugh her head off.
I hope her meeting is going well. Once she lands the job, the rest of her time in London will be fun, frolic, and festive, smooth sailing.
And when it’s time for her to go…
Well, we haven’t discussed our options just yet, but if things are still as fantastic between us as they are now, maybe I’ll go with her for a month or two. I can work from the New York office, and it’s not like London is any fun between Christmas and when the tulips start popping in March anyway.
And by then, maybe Emily and I will have hammered out a long-term game plan to get her living in the U.K. for good.
It’s certifiably insane to be plotting plane flights and visa options a week in, but I really,reallydon’t like the thought of saying goodbye to this woman.
Mywoman.
At least, I’m hoping she’ll soon officially be mine. I have quite a romantic “be my girlfriend” plan plotted for tonight, involving the office rooftop, an antique ring on a chain, and a cheeky poem to keep things from feeling too over-the-top. I think she’ll love it, and I’m nearly certain she’ll say yes.
Please, let her say yes…
“Speaking of elves with giant dongs,” Edward says, pulling me from my moony “man in love” thoughts, “what fresh hell are you planning to unleash at the White Elephant this year? Mother made me promise to make sure you didn’t take things too far. She’s worried the fire department might not make it to the house in time. They’ve cut staff in the village, you know.”
I sigh. “I’ve told her a hundred times—that wreath bursting into flames was a freak accident. I still have no idea how it happened. It was nowhere near the candles on the table. I can’t be blamed.”
“She’s pretty sure you can,” Edward says. “The fire was your fault for bringing a cursed object into our home in the first place. Seriously, a Victorian hair wreath, Olly? Could you be more morbid? And at Christmas, too.”
“In my defense, I wasn’t aware the hair was harvestedafterthe Victorian was deceased,” I say, sipping my coffee before muttering behind the rim, “Or that the particular hair in question might have belonged to a woman who murdered people with soap.”
Edward makes a soft, but deeply horrified sound.
“Soap is a bizarre way to kill people,” I double down. “And we probably did the world a service by bringing that wretched thing into a happy home where such cursed darkness couldn’t possibly survive. So, it promptly burst into flames, never to wreak havoc upon the living again.”
My brother’s lips twitch, but he still looks decidedly unamused. “Right. Well, in any event, I’ve made Mother a promise, and I intend to keep it. We all know this year is…difficult. For all of us, but especially for her.”
Sobering, I nod. “Yes, of course.” I study what’s left of the foam in my cup, debating for a moment before I add in a cautious voice, “Though, to be frank, it hasn’t been as miserable as I thought it would be. At Grandmother’s on Saturday, I…” I shrug. “I would have sworn I felt him there with us.”
“Me, too,” Edward says, meeting my gaze for a quick beat before looking away. “I thought maybe it was just the grief playing tricks, but…”
