A Christmas Reservation (The Royale Series)

by Devon Michaels

  The front lobby is incredibly crowded. People are standing shoulder to shoulder, engaged in small talk with their neighbors about how long they’ve been waiting. I squeeze through and make my way to the hostess stand. It’s the same blonde woman who greeted us before.

  “Hello, sir,” she says kindly. “Do you have a reservation?”

  “I’m not here to eat,” I say, a little breathless. My chest feels heavy, trying to adjust to the warmth inside the restaurant. “Is Kate here?”

  The hostess frowns. “Kate? My boss, Kate?”

  “Yeah, that’s her.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she says slowly. “She left a few hours ago.”

  “Did she go home?”

  The hostess looks at me suspiciously. “I’m not at liberty to say, sir.”

  I click my tongue. “Look, I’m her… I’m her boyfriend. Is she home? She’s not answering her phone.”

  “She’s never mentioned you before,” she says warily. It’s clear she doesn’t trust me. I don’t know how to convince her to give me more information.

  I sigh, disappointed. “Can you just tell her that Peter’s looking for her? It’s urgent.”

  “Peter?” comes a man’s voice.

  I look to the side and see Laurence, the man who brought Kate to the emergency room a few weeks ago. He’s taller than I remembered, and a lot more intimidating when he’s in his chef’s uniform.

  “What’s this about?” he asks, frowning.

  “I need to see Kate. Do you know where she is?”

  Laurence shakes his head and I feel my hopes shatter.

  “She’s not answering my calls or texts,” I explain.

  “All I know is she went home. She mentioned something about law school and left me in charge.”

  “What?” The question falls out of my mouth.

  “What did you do to her?” he snaps at me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “She’s been absolutely depressed these last few days.”

  I glance around nervously at all of the prying eyes. I swallow hard. Kate’s been feeling down, and it’s all my fault.

  “I didn’t mean for her to feel that way,” I reason.

  Laurence scoffs like he doesn’t believe me. “I’d go apologize, if I were you. I need my manager in working order.”

  I nod and exhale deeply. He’s right. I’ll apologize to Kate a thousand times over if I need to. I turn on my heel and leave the way I came, rushing back to my car. As I turn the keys in the ignition, listening to the engine struggle to start, I use my free hand to call Kate again. This time, the phone actually rings.

  She picks up on the fourth dial tone, just as the engine sputters to life.

  “What do you want?” she snaps.

  I feel a flood of emotions. I’m relieved that I can finally hear her voice again, but her disappointment and bitterness is so obvious in her words that it leaves me feeling empty.

  “Kate, I need to talk to you,” I blurt out hurriedly. I’m unsure if anything I just said was intelligible.

  “Now’s not a good time,” she mumbles.

  “Please, we need to talk.”

  “Talk?” she retorts. “You ignore me for an entire week and now you want to talk?”

  “Kate, I–”

  “No, you listen to me, asshole,” she hisses, “I deserve better than that.”

  “I know you do.”

  “Did I piss you off or something?”

  “No, nothing like that. I just–”

  “What?” she interrupts me, sharp and cold. “You just what?”

  “I just realized that I’m in love with you.”

  Silence. I grip the steering wheel with my free hand, concentrating on the vibration caused by the soft rumble of the car engine. The steering wheel’s faux leather is painfully cold against the skin of my palms.

  “What?” she whispers in disbelief.

  “I realized that I’m in love with you. And I got scared. I was scared because…” My voice trails off. I’m unable to find the right words. There’s no way for me to make this sound neat and tidy. So I just say what’s on the tip of my tongue, even at the risk of sounding like a complete idiot. “I was scared you didn’t like me that way. I didn’t want to tell you because I was worried that you’d think I was coming on too strong and would want to end things with me. But I don’t want you to end things with me. I didn’t return your messages because I was afraid. I was being stupid. I just needed time to process everything, but I know what I want now. I want to get to know you better. I want to ask you out on a proper date. I’m in love with you, Kate.”

  A thick, tense silence leaves me hanging. I can hear Kate’s shallow, shaky breathes over the receiver. She’s not saying anything. I begin to panic. I feel like I’m simultaneously floating and being crushed by the very air that surrounds me.

  “I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, her voice small and barely audible. “Please don’t call me again.”

  She hangs up the phone.

  My heart breaks.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Kate

  This was only ever supposed to be something casual, a fling. I don’t do relationships. I consider myself married to my work. And with the holidays right around the corner, things at the Royale are about to get crazy busy. But that was before I met Peter. He’s sweet, he’s kind, and he’s intelligent. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s really, really good in bed.

  He gets that I’m busy, because he’s busy, too. It was easy to come to an arrangement –to meet up when we wanted to blow off some steam. Our only requirement was that we had to promise not to fall in love with each other. But now I’m standing here under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve wondering if we could have been something more.

  I shake my head. He broke the first rule –his first rule. He ignored me, made me feel like I was crazy, and that out of nowhere tells me that he’s in love with me. What was I supposed to do? Tell him I felt the same way without another thought? Of course not. He left me feeling overwhelmed and unwanted. He had me doubting myself and missing him terribly.

  And I still miss him, even now. I didn’t know what else to do, so I hung up. I like him. I really do like him, but am I doubt that I’m ready for this. He had come across really strong, but his words echo in my mind like a sweet, sorrowful song.

  I’m in love with you, Kate.

  I stare out the window and watch the snow fall. Richard had invited me out to the cabin to spend Christmas with him, and I wasn’t in the headspace to decline. I didn’t want to be alone right now, and spending some more quality time with my father could never be a bad thing. He’s busy stoking the fire, carefully placing dried logs over the flames. The cabin smells wonderful. It smells like cinnamon, gingerbread, peppermint, and roasted hazelnuts. But I can’t bring myself to enjoy any of it.

  “What’s wrong, my darling?” he asks me.

  “Hm? Nothing.”

  I’m lying, of course. I hate everything right now. I hate the snow, I hate Christmas, I hate love, I hate Peter. Except I don’t hate Peter. That was a lie, too.

  Richard smiles at me knowingly. He makes his way over to the couch and pats the empty cushion beside him. I stride over and take a seat next to him, my eyes falling upon the television screen. The nightly news is playing, recapping about the massive snow storm that’s been barraging the east coast. My eyes fall upon the Christmas cards that my sisters and their families sent, which rest upon the fireplace’s mantel.

  “Would you like me to make you some minty hot cocoa?” he asks, a little hopeful. “You used to love it as a kid.”

  I shake my head and force a polite smile. “I’m okay, thank you.”

  “May I ask why Peter isn’t coming?”

  I clench my jaw. Even hearing Peter’s name has my mind spinning. His name ties my gut up into messy knots.

  “He couldn’t make it,” I lie again. If I keep this up, Santa is definitely going to leave coal in my stocking.

  “I see,�
�� mumbles Richard as he strokes his beard. “How are things between you two?”

  “Fine. Great. We’re peachy.”

  Richard raises an eyebrow at me, curious. “Kate,” he stresses, his tone wise. “Do I need to kill him?”

  I manage to chuckle, but I feel empty inside. “No, you don’t. I can fight my own battles.”

  “I know you can, my darling.”

  I lean into my father’s shoulder and rest my head against his arm, allowing myself to sink into the couch.

  “Boys are stupid,” I mumble bitterly.

  Richard nods in agreement. “I can confirm on behalf of my sex that that’s not an untrue statement.”

  “Did you ever drive mom this crazy?”

  Richard laughs. “All the time. Most of the time on purpose.”

  “Why?”

  “Because love makes people do stupid things, my darling. It makes people dumb and act irrationally.”

  “Love is stupid,” I conclude.

  “I’m not arguing with you,” confirms Richard. He sighs gently, patting my knee. “Tell me what you’re thinking. It may make you feel better.”

  I bite my bottom lip. I had nothing to lose at this point, and I trusted my father not to laugh at me.

  “I hate him,” I answer, “I really, really hate him. But I don’t. And that’s why I’m so confused. Overwhelmed.”

  Richard nods, but stays silent.

  “I hate how he smiles at me. It makes my stomach all grumbly, and not in a hunger-pang kind of way. When he smiles at me, I feel all bubbly and stupid inside. When I hear him laugh, I want to laugh, too, because when he’s happy, I think I’m happy.”

  “So what seems to be the actual problem?” asks Richard.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready,” I admit. “I’ve got the restaurant to look after. And I told you about the whole law school thing, didn’t I?”

  “You did.”

  “And, I don’t know, I just feel like Peter’s just one more aspect of my life that I’d have to worry about. What if it doesn’t work out? What if I can’t manage everything at one time? What if I crash and burn and I just end up getting hurt anyway?”

  Richard leans back and places his hands on my shoulder. He looks me square in the eye, dead serious.

  “Do you remember your fifth-grade cross-country race?” he asks me. I nod. I vaguely remember it, the memory a fuzzy haze.

  “I tripped when the starting gun went off. It scared me.”

  “But what did you end up doing?”

  “I got up.”

  “That’s right,” he says encouragingly. “You got up and you ran as hard as you could. And you won.”

  “Life isn’t a race, dad,” I tell him.

  “True, but what I’m trying to get at is that you’re a tenacious little brat. Always were. If you want something, you get it. That’s just who you are.”

  I allow his words to sink in. The memory of his voice drives me crazy. The image of his smile has been burned permanently into the back of my eyes. The touch of his skin and lips keep me awake at night. Did I want Peter in my life? Did I want to open up and be vulnerable to him –with him? Did I want to get to know him intimately, physically, mentally, and in all other possible ways?

  I did. I really did.

  I stand up from the couch, determined. I turn to my father and smile apologetically.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go,” I tell him.

  He nods understandingly. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  “Will you be alright by yourself?”

  Richard waves a dismissive hand at me. “I’ll be fine. Go get your man and knock some sense into him for me.”

  I giggle nervously. “Don’t tell me you approve of him.”

  Richard shrugs a shoulder, returning his attention to the television screen. “I think he’s a good guy. But that’s our little secret, okay?”

  I lean down and kiss my father on the cheek. “Okay,” I agree happily.

  “Drive carefully,” he warns, but I’m already making my way to the cabin’s front door.

  Before I know it, I’m pulling on my coat and heading out to the car as the snow and wind whips across my face, stinging my eyes. But I don’t care. I know, deep down, that I need to see Peter. When I get in the car, I pull out my phone. My hands are so cold that I’m barely able to dial his number.

  He answers immediately, urgency in his voice.

  “Kate?”

  “Hi,” I greet nervously.

  “Hi,” he echoes. He sounds a little groggy, like he just woke up.

  “Are you busy right now?” I ask stupidly. My heart is pounding so hard that I think I might pass out. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. The tips of my fingers and toes are tingling, and I’m so excited to hear Peter’s voice that I can’t tell if it’s because of the cold or because I can barely contain myself.

  “No, I’m not busy,” he replies. He sounds confused. “Where are you?”

  “Can I… Can I come see you? Is that… Is that okay?”

  Peter lets out a nervous laugh. “Of course,” he says. “I’ll wait up for you.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Peter

  I watch the clock that hangs above the kitchen sink, desperately wishing that the second hand would tick faster. I sit on the couch with my hands in my lap, my mouth agape slightly as I try to remember to breathe. She’s coming. Kate’s actually coming to see me. Just to hear her speak to me was enough of a gift –a Christmas miracle, really. I don’t know if she’s on her way to yell at me, or if she’s really coming to talk, but I don’t care. I so badly want to see her. I want to study the details of her face, I want to memorize her scent, I want to hold her tight and never let go.

  My thoughts are interrupted by three timid knocks on my door. I stand up so fast that I make myself dizzy. I leap towards the door, cursing as I try to undo the chain lock. I swing the door wide open and pause. All thought, all reason has abandoned me. Kate’s here. She’s here at my door and I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do or say. I open my mouth in hopes that it will kickstart my brain, but she raises her fingers to my lips.

  “I’m sorry,” she blurts out. “I’m so sorry.”

  I feel like I’m stepping on my own heart. I shift uncomfortably. What is she apologizing for? We haven’t spoken since that night on the phone. Is she maybe ending this in person?

  She turns you down, you move on. Done.

  But I don’t want to be done with Kate. I’m just getting started. There’s so much more that I want to learn and know about her. We can’t be over. We just can’t.

  “What are you–”

  “When you said you were in love with me,” she cuts me off, “you freaked me out.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I just–”

  “I didn’t handle it very well. And that’s why I’m sorry.”

  She lowers her hand and clenches it into a tight fist. She stares at a spot on the ground, too nervous to look me in the eye. She bites her lower lip in thought. I watch as she swallows before speaking again.

  “I needed time to think,” she says in a small voice.

  “About what?” I urge. I sound pathetic. My words are shaky and weak. The suspense is killing me. Does she want to break up with me or not? I desperately hope the latter.

  “When you told me you were in love with me, I was scared,” she continues. “I was scared because I realized that I’m in love with you, too. I reacted poorly. I was really stupid about it. And I just felt really overwhelmed and–”

  I don’t let her finish. I crash my lips against her and snake my arms around her waist, pulling her as close as possible. I guide her inside my apartment and shut the door behind her. I’m just so unbelievably happy that I could die this instant and be totally fine with it. Except, maybe not, because kissing Kate feels absolutely wonderful. I press her up against the hallway wall and I don’t get go, pressing our bodies together in a frenzy.

  She k
isses me back with an equal amount of fervor. She has one of her fingers in my hair, while the other is hooked around the back of my neck, pulling me down to her. I can’t believe how much I’ve missed this. The hand she has on the back of my neck eventually slides around and down, finding its way beneath my shirt. Her fingers trace my abs while I slowly pull her jacket off. I left her up, grabbing her ass as she wraps her legs around my waist. I carry her to the bedroom, nearly tripping twice on my way there.

  I place her gently down on the mattress, stripping out of my clothes as quickly as possible. She does the same, throwing her shirt and jeans to the floor –completely forgotten. I snatch a condom off of my nightstand and put it on, keeping my eyes on Kate the entire time. I return to her, positioning myself between her knees. I lean down to kiss her. Our tongues meet, wrestling one another for dominance. I pull away for a second and gaze into her eyes, utterly hypnotized.

  “Do you…” I pant. “Do you want to be on top?”

  She shakes her head and wraps her arms around my neck.

  “This is fine,” she whispers in my ear.

  I insert my cock slowly, watching for any signs of discomfort. Kate winces initially, but grows accustomed to the stretch. I move my hips slowly as Kate wraps her legs around me. I kiss her hard and long, breathing through my nose. I wrap my arms around her and thrust at a steady pace. Each one of my movements draws out a soft, sexy moan. She feels so warm around me, as well as delightfully slick with want. She feels amazing –but more importantly, she is amazing. She moves her hips with me in tandem, encouraging me to pick up in speed.

  “Peter,” she gasps into my ear. My God I love the way she says my name.

  I thrust into her harder and faster, forcing her to gasp and writhe. She grips onto the bedsheets, practically clutches to them to try and stay still for me. I place my hand on the back of her head, fingers tangled in her beautiful hair. I cradle her close, admiring the way her naked body feels against mine. I hold her tight as I drive both of us to climax. She screams my name as she rides out the waves of pleasure. The way she says it drives me crazy –like it’s the only word she has to cling to.