by Holly Rayner
She clinked her glass against his and took a sip, grateful for the alcohol in that moment. Setting their glasses down, Zadid clapped his hands together.
“So, what are we doing first?” he asked, gazing in the direction of the oven.
Yvonne stepped further into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a series of ingredients.
“Fortunately for us, I had the presence of mind this morning to get the turkey cooking, so that should be done in about an hour. Until then, we’re going to need to boil and mash these potatoes, cook up some veggies, and bake a loaf of bread. It couldn’t hurt to finish everything off with a pie, either, could it?”
“You’re the expert. I’m afraid I must defer to you in this situation.”
She nodded, handing him a knife and piling up green beans and carrots in front of him on a cutting board.
“You get to be on chopping duty, then. Can’t be giving my new sous chef any big responsibilities since he’s so inexperienced with the menu.” She winked at him teasingly. “I’m going to baste this turkey so that it doesn’t turn into jerky.”
“You’re quite the poet, Yvonne.”
She smirked up at him as she knelt to spread liquid on the bird in the oven.
“You didn’t know I was a poet?”
“Really?” he asked, actually sounding convinced.
Yvonne laughed, closing the oven.
“No.”
“You’re much funnier when we’re not at work,” he observed.
Yvonne felt pleased at that comment, smiling at him as she picked up a knife and helped him chop. Together, they made quick work of the preparations, and as Yvonne placed the potatoes into boiling water, she grinned.
“Ready for the real fun?” she asked, and Zadid lifted an eyebrow.
“I’m always ready,” he said, crossing his arms as he looked at her with a smug expression.
She nodded in the direction of the Christmas tree, still barren with the ornament box sitting beside it.
“Well then, let’s do some tree decorating! You’re getting the whole run of the Christmas experience, today.”
She picked up the champagne bottle, pouring them two fresh glasses as she led the way to the Christmas tree. Zadid looked at her fireplace.
“Does that work?” he asked.
“Sure does. Feeling in the mood for a cozy fire?” she asked.
He nodded toward the balcony.
“Have you been outside today? It’s freezing!”
“Believe it or not, I haven’t. The firewood is on the porch, anyway. Would you like a small tour of my view?”
Zadid nodded, following close behind her as she opened the balcony door and shivered.
“You weren’t kidding,” she said, her breath steaming as she spoke.
Tiny snowflakes were falling, leaving little frozen dots on their faces.
Zadid insisted on carrying in the few pieces of firewood she had for just such an occasion. Having never had a man there for a quiet Christmas dinner, there was a reason the wood had gone wholly unused. Zadid rolled up his sweater sleeves and knelt down by the fire, stacking the logs like an expert.
“I take it you have your own fireplace?” she asked with her hands on her hips as she watched him at work. To say the view was sexy was a gross understatement. He was positively gorgeous and it took everything in her not to jump on him and kiss him until he kissed her back.
“I do. My home country is extremely hot compared to here, so I made sure to have a nice fireplace in my apartment to stay warm during the winter months. Now, I need some kindling and a lighter. Where do you keep those?”
“Uh…” Yvonne said, rustling through the bottom kitchen drawer and pulling out a fire-starter block and a box of matches. “Will these work?”
He reached up for them, his fingers brushing against hers as he took the supplies. Her fingertips felt as though the nerve endings were on the outside, his touch affecting her in the best, intense way.
“That will work fine, thank you. Okay, here we go,” he said, deftly starting the fire, poking it until it grew to a comfortable crackle.
“Ah, that’s better, don’t you think?” he asked, wiping his hands on his jeans as he stood, standing next to Yvonne as they admired the dancing flames.
Yvonne hummed her agreement, very aware of and distracted by his arm brushing against hers. Then, he stepped to the side, to her disappointment, and knelt down by the box of decorations.
“Now we can decorate your tree. Let’s see what we have here.”
He pulled out red, gold, and sparkly white bulbs, handing them to Yvonne to hang where she wanted on the tree. There were some small glass candy canes that they placed next, and a little string of white lights. They passed the string between them as they wrapped it around the little tree together, standing back to admire their handiwork when they’d finished.
The walls around them danced with the flames, complemented perfectly by the glow of the tree’s lights. It was the most pleasant feeling in the world to have Zadid sharing that moment with her.
“I think it looks great,” Yvonne declared, picking her glass up off the coffee table and lifting it to salute Zadid.
He grabbed his own and returned her salutation. They headed into the kitchen to quickly prep an apple pie while finishing their second round of drinks. When they’d finished, a playful flour-flicking fight ensued for a few moments until the oven went off, indicating that it was time to take the turkey out and put the pie in.
Yvonne was thankful for the interruption, as it had been taking everything in her to resist kissing the dusting of flour off Zadid’s nose.
Together, Yvonne and Zadid prepared a delicious meal, Yvonne setting the table as Zadid did the honor of cutting the small turkey into slices. They loaded their plates and sat together at her kitchen table, a warm glow cast over them by the firelight.
“I like American Christmas,” Zadid said. “It’s very relaxing.”
Yvonne laughed, and he gave her a curious glance.
“While I agree with you that this is quite peaceful, usually, Christmas is a pretty boisterous affair—especially when there are children around. It’s all running around, playing games, begging for presents and more candy and pie and cake than you can eat.”
“Is that what it’s like for you, normally?”
Yvonne shrugged.
“Not exactly. I mean, I definitely had that, but my parents split up when I was thirteen, so my Christmases were always just a little bit…less.”
“One would think, with two separate ones, that they would be a little bit more,” Zadid observed, and Yvonne nodded.
“Oh, I certainly got more presents, that’s for sure, but by the time I was a teenager, the magic had pretty much dissolved, anyway. Christmas when I was a kid, before the divorce, was one of the best things in life. I would wake up ridiculously early and jump on my parents’ bed until they were forced to get up to open presents together.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Zadid said, and his hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out and grab hers.
She half-hoped that he would, but she had never wanted pity over her family situation.
“In a lot of ways, I’m very lucky. My parents’ divorce was amiable, and they’re still friends today—in a general way. They don’t really talk except through me, but it’s never hostile.”
She took a bite of the moist turkey, pairing it with mashed potatoes and gravy. Wanting to change the subject, she altered the direction of the conversation.
“What about you? What’s Christmas like in Abu Algar?”
Zadid’s expression clouded over a bit at her question, and she wondered why. Was he homesick, perhaps, or was it the opposite?
“We don’t necessarily celebrate Christmas, but since it’s one of the few times a year my family can all get together, we do partake in some festivities,” he said, setting down his fork as he leaned back in his chair. “My family is large and boisterous—like you s
aid is usual for Christmas—and we all get together in the palace’s main ballroom for a massive feast and plenty of fun games.”
“What kinds of games? What food do you eat?”
She leaned in as Zadid lit up, regaling her with tales of his family’s celebrations. As he talked about his family, it was clear that they meant the world to him, leaving her to assume that her original guess was correct: Zadid was homesick, and he was used to being with his family this time of year.
“I’d love to experience it sometime. I’ve never been to Abu Algar,” she said.
“It’s likely I’ll have to take a business trip there in the future. Perhaps I’ll drag you along,” he said, his words softened by the smile in his eyes.
“Perhaps you will. I’m due for a business trip soon, anyway. You can’t get anything done without me.”
“Oh, cocky are we, now that we’re on your home turf?”
“Hey, I got you cooking in my kitchen. I think I can make anything happen.”
“What about presents? Can you make that happen?”
“Are you asking me whether I got you a present or not?” she asked, leaning back in her seat.
She was pleasantly full, a sleepy feeling overtaking her as she settled into full relaxation. Somehow, conversation with Zadid always managed to flow so easily, but his more casual demeanor outside of work made his appeal even greater.
“Well, that doesn’t really matter as much as the fact that I would like you to open mine.”
“Lucky for you, I got you a gift, too. I was going to bring it to you at work in the new year, but now is much more fitting.”
She stood and walked over towards the couch, pulling out a wrapped gift from the coffee table’s drawer. Zadid followed, and they handed each other their respective gifts. Once again, just the brush of his fingers sent tingles down her spine.
“Shall we open them at the same time?” he suggested.
She nodded.
“Let’s.”
The sound of crinkled paper filled the room as they tore into their gifts, the shiny paper falling to the floor.
Inside Yvonne’s box was a stunning crystal angel tree topper, glistening in its wooden box. She looked up at Zadid, who was staring in wonder at his own gift.
“Is this a first edition?” he asked, nearly breathless.
Yvonne repressed a smug grin. It had taken her ages to find the original copy of his favorite book, searching through dozens of bookstores across D.C.
“It is. I found it in a bookstore uptown.”
“This is amazing. How did you know this is my favorite book?”
“You have six other copies on your office shelf, and that’s three more than you had when I first started.”
“You noticed that?”
“I notice everything. Except for keeping time when I’m supposed to be hosting an important dinner. That, apparently, I am not stellar at.” She glanced down at her crystal angel. “Now, you need to tell me how you knew I didn’t have a tree topper,” she said, grinning.
He shrugged, meeting her grin with one of his own, his dimple outlined in the golden light of the fire. He was like a modern Adonis, the perfect specimen of man. Yvonne struggled to keep from staring at him as though she wanted to devour him, which she very much did.
“Lucky guess,” he answered, setting the book on the table. “Yvonne, this was a perfect Christmas. Thank you. What a wonderful way to spend the holiday. I will have to bring some of these traditions to my own table next time I am at home.”
“I’m glad to hear it. There’s one more tradition we always do that you have to try out—follow me,” she said.
Yvonne led him into the kitchen, quickly taking the pie out of the oven and putting it on the counter to cool. Then, she reached into the turkey and pulled out the wishbone, holding it out to him.
“Whoever gets the largest part of the bone gets their wish. So far, I’ve won the wishbone twice this year. Let’s see if third time’s the charm.”
Zadid grinned as he pinched the end of the wishbone with his fingers.
“Make a wish then, Yvonne,” he said.
She closed her eyes, deciding to stick with the theme she’d already established.
I wish I had a family of my own.
She took a breath and opened her eyes to find Zadid staring at her. With a competitive smile, she pulled, and he tugged his own side. When the bone broke, Yvonne found herself the winner once again.
“Ha!” she exclaimed, bouncing on her toes with glee. “Three times in a row! I can’t believe it!”
Zadid’s smile was good-natured as he set his bone back on the counter.
“You must have a wish that absolutely needs to be fulfilled. Are you going to share it with me?”
She crossed her arms.
“I will when it comes true. Until then, that’s bad luck.”
“Ah, I understand. Your wish didn’t by chance happen to be for an angel for your tree, was it?”
She chuckled, pulling the angel from its box.
“Come to think of it, that’s what I wished for last year!” she joked. “Shall we put it on?”
“Of course,” he replied.
The duo walked over to the little tree, Yvonne placing the angel delicately on the top. It was the perfect finishing touch.
As they stared at the tree, Yvonne could feel the evening stretching, and she knew he’d be calling for a cab soon. The thought of him not being there pulled at her heartstrings, though of course, he would have to go.
Both of their phones dinged in that moment, catching their attention.
“What’s going on?” Yvonne asked, thinking it was something work-related.
As they looked at their phones, both of their gazes turned toward the windows. Quite without their knowledge, a blizzard had blown right in.
Chapter Seven
Hazardous weather alerts had popped up on their phones, and they walked back to the balcony, Yvonne opening the door so they could step outside.
What had started off as a gentle flurry had snowballed into a massive storm. A gust of wind blew around them, and Zadid reached for Yvonne’s hand, tugging her inside. She nearly crashed into him, placing a gentle hand on his chest to balance herself before blushing and pulling the door closed.
They continued to watch the storm together through the glass, though Yvonne stepped aside slightly.
“I was just about to call a cab,” Zadid murmured with a furrowed brow.
Yvonne suddenly realized that there was a chance her daydreams might actually come true—if he was willing, that was.
“Would you…like to stay the night?” she asked timidly.
He gazed down at her, his eyes searching. She knew her gaze would give away how much she wanted him to stay, but she didn’t care. She had wanted Zadid since the moment she’d laid eyes on him.
After a heavy pause, he nodded.
“I’d like that very much. Thank you. Traveling in this looks treacherous.”
“No need to put yourself in danger when I have a perfectly comfortable couch right here. Now, why don’t we keep this party going? Do you like board games?”
His lip curled up in a half-smile, revealing that sexy dimple again. With champagne coursing through her, Yvonne’s guard was thoroughly down, and she stared at his mouth for a moment before she reminded herself to look back up into his eyes.
“I do,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind losing, though.”
“When have I ever lost a game we’ve played?”
“When have we ever played a board game?”
“That work party last year, you brought out a few for the group and I managed to win every round.”
His brow creased as he worked to remember, finally snapping his fingers as the memory arrived.
“Ah, yes! But I wasn’t playing. I was simply the referee.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I won.”
“Well, let’s just see how well you compete against a m
aster player.”
“Let’s. But first, eggnog.”
“I’ve never had it,” Zadid admitted, and Yvonne mock gasped.
“You don’t know what you’re missing! The board games are on that shelf by the TV—pick one you think you can win and I’ll grab us some eggnog while preparing to defeat you.”
“Confidence, I like that in a woman.”
Yvonne smiled to herself as she nearly skipped to the kitchen. Zadid was going to be spending the night! She poured fresh eggnog into two small tumblers and brought them out to the living room.
Zadid stoked the dying fire, and it was bright and cheery once more. A game was set up on her coffee table, and his eyes were as warm as the fire as he watched her return. Setting the glass in front of him, she sat on the floor across from him, ready to play.
“Have a taste,” she said, nodding at the glass.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he replied, though he wasn’t looking at the eggnog.
Yvonne cleared her throat, taking a sip of her drink. The creamy, sweet taste brought back so many memories of Christmases past, and she watched Zadid as he took his own tentative sip. When he did, his eyes widened in surprise.
“I like this!” he declared.
Yvonne wiped the back of her hand across her brow.
“Phew. If you didn’t, we’d have to end our friendship immediately.”
“You would stop being friends with me just for not liking a drink?”
“Eggnog is not just any drink. It is manna of the gods,” she teased, taking another sip.
“Fair enough. I must agree with you, there. Now, as a gentleman, I will grant you the first turn.”
“Ever gallant, you are.”
“Let it never be said that I am anything less than a gentleman,” he replied, gesturing toward the board.
They proceeded to play a rousing round of the game, with Yvonne and Zadid trading witty remarks as their pieces chased each other across the board until finally Yvonne reached the final roll of the dice.
“Here it is, my great victory. Are you ready?”
His gaze was challenging as she shook the dice between her closed palms. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. He watched her intently as she rolled.
