Holiday Hookup

by Misty Dawn

A flush reached my cheeks. The thought of me returning a folded up oversized shirt and men's pajama pants was mortifying. What would people at work think, especially those that worked alongside Leo? The manager from Penny's Pleasures returning used clothes to Leo Bradley? It was laughable.

  Sheepishly, I began wringing out my clothes to hang them over the shower rod to let them dry. Peering out the window as I went back and forth, I saw that the snow hadn't let up one bit. If anything, it was getting worse. With a sigh, I laid out my underwear, determined to come back to them once they had dried.

  I left the bathroom in my new, oversized clothes, feeling a little naughty without my underwear, but much warmer and comfortable than I had less than an hour ago. I was grateful for Leo. I came into the living room and watched the wind and snow rattle against the windows, forbidding me the thought of even considering trying to get home at this point. I think I was officially stuck here. I looked down at my oversized white socks and smiled. This wasn't as bad as I thought it could be.

  Beside the massive fireplace were two bookshelves that reached the ceilings, each shelf filled with colorful books. I slid my finger across the shelf level with my eyes, reading each spine carefully.

  Brave New World

  Dune

  Fahrenheit 451

  Ready Player One

  "You like to read?" His voice startled me out of my curiosity and I jumped backwards, bringing my palm to my chest.

  "Shit," I said, looking over at Leo who had suddenly appeared leaning against the frame of the hallway. I wondered how long he'd been there, watching me. He was freshly showered, wet hair, damp beard, dressed in a new pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that showed off his sculpted arms. He ran a hand through his wet hair as he looked at me and I made a conscious effort to keep my jaw sealed shut so it wouldn't fall on the floor. "You scared me," I managed to squeak.

  "Sorry," he answered, not sounding sorry at all, casually moving off the wall and towards the kitchen. "Feel better?" he asked.

  I followed him like a puppy, moving towards the island of the kitchen to find a place to sit. He went to the fridge and rifled through it. "Yes," I said. "Thank you so much. I can't imagine what would have happened if you had gone home for the night."

  He reappeared from the fridge with a bottle of white wine and smiled at me. "Me neither." His green eyes twinkled, catching mine, before he turned to the cabinet to grab two glasses.

  "So," I started, working up my nerve, "this house is pretty big for just you. Is it…" I paused, trying to find the right words, "…just you?"

  Leo put the glasses back on the counter and started pouring a generous amount of wine in each. "It's just me," he said. He handed me a glass, and I took it, letting my fingers linger for a second before pulling it back. "So, this is your first true blizzard?" he asked, taking a sip of his own wine.

  "First ever," I told him. "Not a fan."

  He laughed, smiling wide before looking back towards the window. "Well, you've had a pretty awful start," he said. "If you're inside and comfortable, it's usually not so bad. So long as you have wine and power. "

  The lights above us flickered, as if the wind heard our conversation. Leo and I both looked up at the ceiling, then brought our gazes down, together. My lips widened into a smile of my own. I couldn't help it. I put the glass down and started giggling.

  "Okay," he said, "I'll completely understand if you decide not to like it if the power goes out."

  "Deal," I answered, holding up my wine glass to his. He clinked his against mine, and we both took a sip. The cool white Chardonnay tasted buttery and pleasant, leaving a sharp, dry tang down my throat.

  "I'm surprised we haven't met before today," Leo commented, leaning against the counter. My eyes drifted to the muscles in his arms as he flexed casually against the countertop. I swallowed.

  "Well, I only started about a year ago," I said, forcing my gaze towards my glass. "Usually if I need anything, I just work with Leonard."

  "Ah," Leo said fondly. "He's the best."

  I nodded my agreement.

  "And do you like it? Penny's?"

  "No," I answered too quickly. "I mean…" I tried to think of something that would fix the rude comment that slipped out of my mouth. I should be grateful for my job, for the opportunity. I looked up at his stern stare, searching for some sort of reaction, coming up empty. I sighed. "I just mean this isn't what I expected to still be doing." Defeated, I took another sip of my drink.

  "Still?"

  I shrugged. "Been here a year, and all I have to show for myself is a manager's position at Penny's Pleasures at the mall? It's kinda pathetic." I was being too honest. "Sorry," I added.

  "Don't be sorry," he said. "You're allowed to want more for yourself than a retail position at the mall. If you don't mind me asking, what would you rather be doing?"

  "Oh," I waved my hand at him. "You don't want to hear my sob story."

  "Well," Leo said, looking towards the window. The wind howled, rattling the windows, screaming against the wooden frame of the house. He turned back towards me with a sly grin, his cheeks high, eyes playful. "I have nowhere to be."

  I opened my mouth to protest, but found no reason to. I laughed nervously and rolled my eyes, feeling ridiculous. Why would the property and operations manager of my building, of multiple buildings, a man who owned a large Tudor mansion give any care as to what my disappointments were? But there was something in his look, in the way his eyes traveled over my face, waiting, patiently, for me to tell him. It seemed like he wanted to listen.

  "Well," I began with a sigh. "I moved here from North Carolina about a year ago."

  "Southern belle?" He smirked.

  "Hardly," I laughed. "More like a college dropout who moved hundreds of miles away from her family to pursue…" I paused, swirling the wine in the stemless glass, watching it twirl, "…you know?" I cocked an eyebrow and looked at him. "I don't even know anymore."

  He kept his eyes on me, watching my movements with curiosity. "Independence?" he suggested.

  I shrugged. "Not much independence to show for myself. Couldn't even get myself home in a snowstorm."

  "Blizzard," he corrected me. "Big difference."

  "I think I moved up here out of spite." I took another sip of my wine.

  "Why's that?"

  "Overbearing, demanding parents. It's all sort of backfired on me. I couldn't even bare to tell my parents that I'd be spending Christmas alone this year. I simultaneously want them to be proud of me, and am angry at them for pushing me to go to college when it wasn't something I wanted to do."

  "And what did you want to do?" he asked. I looked up at him again, those kind green eyes swimming with interest I didn't understand.

  "Honestly?" I chuckled. "I thought I might open up my own store. I had some really good success with homemade crafts and art on Etsy and wanted to bring it to life with my own boutique." I shook my head. "Not sure what I expected. Now I'm in debt for two years of college and still struggling to pay my rent."

  "You still sell things on Etsy?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "No time now," I answered. "All my energy goes into Penny's. Which is fine. I just…guess I wanted more for myself."

  "I can understand that."

  I gave him a skeptical glance and looked around his massive kitchen. "Really?"

  He laughed. "Money isn't everything, Missy."

  I smiled. "Says you."

  "Says me," he said. He straightened. "Are you hungry?" he asked abruptly.

  I grinned. "Sure."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Leo

  I poured Missy and myself a second glass of wine before putting the frozen pizza into the oven. The storm outside remained relentless, and I found myself more curious about Missy than I'd originally intended. The woman wasn't just some employee at Penny's Pleasures, she had taken a big leap of faith to be out here, and felt like she'd failed.

  I felt for her.

  "So," Missy said, taking the
glass of wine from me, twirling her red hair around her finger absentmindedly. "I told you my story. Is it your turn now?"

  I smiled, nervously swiping my fingers across my beard. "Now that's a sob story," I answered playfully.

  She grinned. "Well then by all means," she said, rolling her hands in a gesture that told me to get started.

  I came around the kitchen island to the stools. For a moment I considered getting into the one next to her, but thought better of it. The woman could make an old pair of pajama pants and oversized t-shirt work. The garments did nothing but remind me of what I imagined hidden underneath them. I chose to leave a stool between us.

  "Well, I grew up in California."

  "Surfer dude?"

  "Sort of," I answered, thinking back to my high school years.

  She nodded. "I can see it. Long hair. Lots of pot smoking. Skipping school to ride the waves?"

  "Totally tubular," I answered, sticking my tongue out. She giggled. "The West Coast was a wonderful place to grow up, but I wanted more opportunity. I was the baby of my family," I said. "It's hard to make a name for yourself when your father and three brothers are already crazy successful."

  "So you came to the East Coast for independence?" she asked, echoing my own words.

  I shook my head. "I also came here out of spite. I wanted to make a name for myself without anyone's help. I wanted to do it myself. Just to prove I could."

  I saw a small smile play on her lips as she listened to me. It wasn't all unpleasant to be watched by someone like Missy. She was genuinely attentive. I hadn't talked about myself to someone like this in a long, long time. Nobody had really taken the time to care.

  "Well then," she held up her glass to mine, "I suppose we're more alike than I realized."

  I clinked my glass with hers. "I suppose we are."

  "So, how'd you end up here?" she asked. "Big house, nice car, great job? Obviously you've made quite the name for yourself. From what I hear, Bradley Properties is one of the biggest names around this area."

  "Thanks," I said. "I've been really, really lucky. And I've worked really, really hard. It just so happened that my roommate in college had a father in the property business. He gave me a chance. The rest is history."

  "Do you love what you do?" she asked, her voice a little quieter this time. She looked eager for my response, which I found endearing. I kept smiling.

  "I really do," I said. "Owning a business is hard as hell. But you can't say it isn't rewarding."

  She nodded, looking down. "I can imagine it would be."

  "It'll happen for you," I told her confidently. "Just don't let that dream go. You'll get there someday."

  "I'll try," she said, doubt still heavy on her voice. "I couldn't bare having to drag myself back to my parents house with my tail between my legs. She leaned back and sighed.

  "Well, you seem like a risk taker," I told her. "That's good. You need that to be successful. Leaving your family behind and coming somewhere new is a big leap to make. Take more of those," I suggested. "You'll get a reward or a lesson, both equally valuable."

  Her face brightened as she digested my words. "I suppose you're right," she said, sounding a little more confident this time.

  I wanted to convince her, to inspire her, to give her a chance just like I had been given, but I realized it wasn't my place. I was the boss, no matter what the situation, and as much as I'd helped people in the past, kindness could come back to bite you in the ass.

  The oven beeped and I hopped down off my chair to take it out of the oven. I was a take-out kind of guy, so frozen pizza was just about as far as I went in terms of cooking. Carefully, I rolled my sleeves up, took out my pizza cutter, and went to town.

  "Smells great," Missy said, as I took two plates down.

  "Took me hours," I said, giving us both two slices. She giggled again as I slid the plate in front of her and we both dug in. That giggle was radiant, filling the too-big kitchen, making me smile all the while.

  I had been hungrier than I imagined, and it seemed that Missy was too. The two of us ate without speaking or taking a sip of our wine, until we completely devoured the pizza.

  As she nibbled on her final crust, she muttered her thanks as I grabbed her plate to take them to the dishwasher. The window above the sink was covered in frost and snow. It sounded like the snow had turned to ice, which was just about the worst thing you could expect from a blizzard.

  Until it wasn't.

  As I shut the sink off, I turned to look at Missy when the lights above us cut completely.

  "Fuck," I said.

  "Fuck," Missy repeated, staring at the ceiling.

  The power was out.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Missy

  I was no stranger to power outages, but I was a stranger to a power outage in the middle of a blizzard. Leo and I stood in the dark for a moment, before he came around the other side of the kitchen island towards the living room. I left my spot on the stool, following him curiously. He stopped to stand in front of the massive fireplace. For as tall as Leo was, the massive structure made even him look small.

  I watched him stare at the gorgeous brick masterpiece for a minute before I got an urge to laugh. The wine was making me feel a little spunky. "Are you willing a fire into place?" I asked him.

  He gave me a playful warning glance. "You can't laugh at me," he said.

  "Oh can't I?"

  He shook his head adamantly. "I've given you shelter, so you can't. It's a rule."

  I raised my eyebrows. "What is it?"

  "I've never made a fire in this fireplace."

  My jaw dropped. I couldn't help it. "You've never made a fire in this insane fireplace?" I came into the living room to get a better look at it. Beautiful gray stone cascaded up towards the ceiling, covering the entirety of the wall in a beautiful pattern. The firebox was so wide you could fit two people inside, sitting on top of a raised stone hearth. Inside, at the bottom of the firebox, was a clean, completely untouched grate. "Tell me you're kidding."

  "Not even a little bit."

  "Leo!" I said his name with some playful indignation as he sheepishly stuck his hands in his pockets. "Tell me you at least have some wood."

  The innuendo of the word was not lost on me, as I tried to ignore it. I felt my cheeks redden, but knew they probably had a little flush to them from the wine. I hoped he wouldn't notice.

  "Well, yeah," he said. For a moment I expected him to drag his hand down his chest, over his belly, straight to his pants. At least, that's what I wanted him to do. For a moment anyway, before I shook the silly idea out of my head.

  "Well let's go get some," I said to him. "This house is gonna get cold, quick."

  He stayed rooted to his spot. "Maybe the power will come back on," he said, pulling his cell phone from his back pocket.

  "Maybe," I said emphatically. "Or maybe we'll freeze to death."

  "So dramatic!" he exclaimed.

  "You were the one telling me how serious blizzards are," I said. I fake-shivered and rubbed my elbows. "My, my, do I feel a draft in here?"

  He looked over his phone at me, his gaze steady, yet a little uncertain. Finally, I heard him lock the damn thing and shove it back in his pocket. "Okay," he said with determination.

  "Wait," I said, holding up my hand. "Before we begin this project, please tell me you have matches. Or a lighter. Something that makes fire?"

  His grin widened at that, reaching his ears, and he looked down at his shoes for a minute, then back up at me. My stomach somersaulted, and nervously I laughed too.

  "Yes. I'm not totally useless," he told me.

  "Well that's a relief," I answered.

  "Come on," he said, moving towards me. "There's wood in the garage."

  As he passed where I was standing, I realized it was the closest he'd been to me since we were in the car. I could smell the soap on him from his shower. It was familiar and unfamiliar all at once, but I could bask myself in his scent. I caught
myself as he passed and brought myself back down to earth, following him towards the garage.

  All of our things we had dumped when we first came in were strewn across the floor. I was relieved to watch him walk past the clutter and straight into the garage. He hurried down the stairs, and turned immediately to his left, to a blue storage box, which he opened. I stopped at the last stair and watched him as he put his hands on his hips and stared at the wood.

  "Give me a few," I told him, holding my hands out. He looked up at me skeptically, then handed me two dry logs. I held them to my chest, but kept my arms out. "I can take a few more."

  "No way," he said, grabbing a few himself. "Those stairs are steep and I do not want to be liable if you fall down at my house."

  I snickered. "Come on," I said. "It'll be easier not to have to come out here every thirty minutes."

  Reluctantly, he handed me two more logs and I went back up the stairs, across the kitchen and into the living room. I placed the logs carefully in the grate, then looked over my shoulder at Leo. His muscular arms were full of wood, and he carefully stepped so not to trip on any furniture along the way. He looked adorable, balancing all of his logs, trying not to misstep. Endearing, even. I reminded myself to divert my attention.

  "Alright," I said sternly. "Go find those matches. Lighter. Whatever, and I'll grab some of those newspapers I saw tied up in the garage. We'll meet back here."

  He dropped the logs next to the hearth, then saluted me very seriously. I smiled, walking back to the garage to grab some newspaper to help start the fire.

  Before I knew it, a fire roared in the fireplace, and Leo and I sat in front of warm glow, our newly filled wineglass on the raised hearth, underneath separate blankets. Night had truly set outside, so the only light available was that from the fireplace, and the occasional cell phone, though both of ours were working on limited battery power.

  We'd found out that power wasn't expected to return until the morning, and it wasn't likely that the plows would find their way through Leo's neighborhood until late tonight, so we'd vowed to make the best of it by playing drinking games. I knew it wasn't the best choice to do with the mall's property manager, but he had suggested it. Saying no could be detrimental to my job.