Scrooged

by Keeland, Vi

  Mason nodded. “I did know that.”

  A doorman opened the door with a nod as we approached.

  Inside, even though I’d been here six times in six days, the grand beauty again overwhelmed me. I looked up in awe. “God, I love this hotel.”

  Mason smiled. “That’s good. Because you’re going to be spending a lot of time in the bedrooms upstairs.”

  “You’re awfully sure of yourself.” The more his comment sank in, the more it annoyed me. “You know what, you have a lot of nerve assuming that just because I agreed to go on a date with you, I’ll be jumping into bed with you.”

  Mason started to laugh. “Calm your pits, Piper.”

  His comment pissed me off even more. “No. I will not calm my pits. I don’t care how good looking you are, I’m not going to date an asshole.”

  Mason’s smile was so smug. “You think I’m good looking.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Figures an asshole would not hear the part about him being an asshole.”

  “You’re really cute when you’re mad.”

  I squinted at him. “You’re unbelievable.” Maybe that driver was still outside and could take me back home. “You know what? I’m out of here. Unfortunately, the apple does fall far from the tree sometimes. I have no idea how your dad could be so sweet and you could be such a jerk. But goodbye, Mason.”

  I turned on my heel to storm out when Mason grabbed my arm.

  “Wait.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not really that big of a jerk. I can explain.”

  “Oh yeah? You can explain how you’re not a jerk for assuming I would jump into bed with you. This might be worth sticking around to hear.”

  Mason smiled. “When I said you were going to be spending a lot of time in the bedrooms, I meant you would be working. You got the contract for the suites, Piper.”

  My face wrinkled. “What?”

  “I own The Lotus Hotel…and a few others.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “When you mentioned you were an interior designer the other night, I told my dad to give you the card with Maria’s number for me. I figured I’d give you a shot. You were kind to my father, and I like to make sure kindness is repaid.”

  “So you gave me a multi-million dollar contract because I was nice to your dad?”

  “No. You got the shot, because of my dad. You earned the contract. You had the best presentation, fair and square. Even Maria recommended your designs.”

  I should’ve been thrilled to have scored a major job like this, but instead I felt deflated. My chest was heavy. “Oh. Okay. Thanks, I guess.”

  Mason’s forehead wrinkled. “What’s wrong? You don’t look happy?”

  “I am. It’s just…” I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  “Spit it out, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “I guess…I thought…well, I thought this was a date.”

  He squinted. “It is a date.”

  “No, I mean a date date. Not a business dinner thing.”

  Mason looked back and forth between my eyes. Cupping both my cheeks, he lowered his face to mine. Before I could register what was about to transpire, he crushed his lips to mine, swallowing the gasp of shock I let out. At first, I could merely try to keep up, opening when he opened, offering my tongue when his pilfered my mouth, clutching him when he’d already had me in his clutches. But eventually, all thought slipped away and instinct took over. I kissed him even harder, pressed my body against his, and sucked on his tongue. Mason growled. The sound shot through me, traveling down to between my legs with a ripple.

  His hands at my cheeks slid to behind my neck, and he tilted my head to deepen the kiss. We made out for a solid ten minutes standing in the middle of a busy lobby, yet I’d felt like we were all alone in a room. When we finally broke, we were both panting.

  “Wow,” I said.

  Mason smiled. “It’s a fucking date, Piper.”

  I smiled back. “It’s a date. But you’re still an asshole.”

  A few weeks later we were inseparable.

  Things had moved really fast between the two of us. We’d spent six nights a week together, a few of those alone, and a few with his dad. Friday, I’d even fallen asleep at his house, but we still hadn’t slept together. Though I was hoping that would change tonight.

  After I made us dinner, Mason helped me take down the Christmas decorations. He dragged my half-dead tree downstairs to put out for tomorrow’s garbage, while I vacuumed up all the bristles that fell off.

  “Thank you for taking that out,” I said when he came back. “I hate doing that job.”

  “No problem.”

  “Could I bother you to do one more thing for me?”

  He wiggled his brows. “Only if I can bother you to do one thing for me later.”

  I laughed. He teased a lot, but Mason hadn’t pressured me at all about sex, even though we’d fooled around a bit. That only made me want him even more.

  “I have another bag for you to take down to the garbage,” I said. “Hang on, let me go grab it.”

  I went into the bedroom and took out the brown paper bag I’d stuffed into a drawer. I have no idea why, but I’d kept everything, even the original bag. I took a deep breath and walked back out to find Mason watching some football game on TV. “Here you go. I won’t be needing these anymore.”

  Mason had been staring at the TV, but when he saw the bag I was holding out, he turned with interest. With a curious look, he took the bag and opened it.

  “It’s your bag of dicks. How can you get rid of this?”

  “I was hoping to trade it for the real thing?”

  Mason’s eyes darkened. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  I smiled. “I want you, Mason. Like now.”

  One minute I was standing there holding out the bag, and the next I was scooped up into Mason’s arms. “What my girl wants, my girl gets.”

  My girl. I really liked that. I smiled and leaned my head against his shoulder as he started to march toward my bedroom. “What about the bag, don’t’ you want to toss it out?”

  “Nope.” He kissed me. “You can have all this and a bag of dicks. You’re one lucky girl.”

  Merry Christmas to our Readers!

  We hope you get a bag of dicks and more under your tree this year!

  Margo

  Nancy spoke over the loud sound of steaming milk. “I can’t believe they bailed on us.”

  “Really? Because I can.”

  I’d just gotten a text from my soon-to-be ex-husband saying he and his lawyer couldn’t make it for our meeting...the meeting that was supposed to start five minutes ago. This was the second time he’d done this to me, claiming to be swamped at work. We’d even scheduled the appointment today at a café near his office in Soho to accommodate him, because he’d complained it took too long to get to either of our attorney’s offices. Not only that, I’d had to ask my best friend Nancy to fill in for my own lawyer when my regular divorce attorney got into a car accident yesterday. That’s how desperate I was to get today over with. If I bent anymore for the asshole, I’d break in half.

  “Well, you know what I mean. I can believe it,” Nancy said. “But, man, the balls on Rex!”

  It was just after Thanksgiving and already starting to look a lot like Christmas. The whole café was decked out in white lights and garland. I’d been hopeful when I walked in, thinking maybe the cheerful atmosphere would offset the misery of the meeting. But of course, anything involving Rex doesn’t end well.

  I tried to make the best of it, opting to enjoy the seasonal eggnog latte, which I looked forward to every year. Holiday cheer should’ve been in the air, aside from the fact that my Scrooge of an ex—Rex—had pulled his usual crap. I’d agreed to a simple, no-fault divorce—which was ironic since the entire demise of my marriage was his fault—yet he needed a sit-down meeting. One apparently he and his lawyer decided not to show up for. That was just
like him, unfortunately.

  So, for the past hour, I’d been hanging out with Nancy, my childhood best friend. I normally tried not to mix business with pleasure, but she seemed eager and up to the task, and I was desperate not to delay this divorce anymore than Rex already had.

  Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas” played low on the overhead speaker. I always loved this time of year; if only I didn’t have the dark cloud of these divorce proceedings looming over me, I could have truly enjoyed it.

  Nancy drank down the last of her latte. “We need to figure out a way to spice up your life. Seriously, you do nothing but work and stress over this damn divorce. That can’t be healthy. Why don’t you come to my firm’s holiday party with me? It’s a harbor cruise.”

  “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

  “Even better…maybe we can go away somewhere after the New Year.”

  Only half listening to her, I checked my phone. “Maybe.” A ton of emails had come in while I’d been at the café.

  My job as one of the top event planners in Manhattan kept me super busy. Whether I was planning posh parties in the Hamptons or galas in the city, my schedule was chock full, seven days a week.

  Nancy snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Did you hear me? I said maybe we should go away after the holidays.”

  I forced myself to put my phone away. “Where would we go if we went away?”

  She pursed her lips. “You know…I’m not sure I’ll even tell you. It’ll be a surprise. You can find out when we get on the plane. Your whole life is planned and scheduled in your damn phone. Pretty sure I’m going to make you get rid of that for a week, too.”

  As if on cue, my text notification chimed, prompting me to take my phone out again and check it. It was one of the vendors for a holiday party I was in charge of. The thought of ever parting with my phone gave me the shakes.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I could never be without my phone for a week.”

  “You don’t have an impulsive bone in your body. You need to unplug and live a little before your entire life passes you by.”

  Playing with my empty cup, I said, “Impulsivity is a choice. I can be impulsive if I want to.”

  She looked skeptical. “Really…”

  “Yes.”

  “So, if I dared you to do something right now in this café that you would never normally choose to do—anything at all—you would do it on a whim…for the sake of impulsivity?”

  I saw where this was going. Nancy’s little dares went back to our childhood in Queens. It had all started in fifth grade when I’d tried to dare her to tell Kenny Harmon she liked him. But I never even got the words out…I’d said, “I dare you to…” and crazy Nancy cut me off and exclaimed, “I’ll do it!” What followed was ten years of us accepting each other’s dares before knowing what they were. I’d done so many things I would never have done otherwise—skinny-dipping, asking the most gorgeous guy in school to the prom, bungee jumping. I had to admit, some of those dares turned out to be some of the best times I’d ever had. But it had been a long time since we’d played our little game.

  Though…what could she possibly have me do that was so drastic anymore? Of course, it would also totally prove her point that I couldn’t be impulsive if I said no. And…I did hate to break our long-running streak of agreeing to those silly dares.

  I sat up straight. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

  She lifted her brow. “You’re absolutely sure?”

  I hesitated, then answered, “Yes.”

  How old am I?

  What am I getting myself into?

  Her assertion that I wasn’t adventurous had me sort of pissed—mostly at myself— because she was right. I really couldn’t back out now. Even though Nancy and I had been playing games like this since we were kids, it wasn’t exactly cute anymore as adults. But when she put her mind to something in order to prove a point, she didn’t let up. It was partly why she was such a good lawyer. Not sure if it was because Rex ruined my day for the umpteenth time, putting me in a shit mood, but for some reason, I just didn’t feel like letting her win this time.

  Wanting to get it over with, I asked, “So what’s my torture going to be?”

  She closed her eyes for a bit. “I’m thinking. It has to be good…something that I truly don’t think you’ll actually do.”

  Now she was really getting on my nerves. Whatever it was...I was going to have to go with it—just to prove her wrong.

  After a minute of whatever weird meditation thing she was doing to concentrate, she finally said, “Okay. I’ve decided what it is. But you’re lucky, because I’m going to let you choose part of it.”

  “Explain.”

  “I want you to kiss a stranger. Someone in this coffee shop.”

  What?

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Not at all…but you’ll get to choose who it is. I’m not that cruel to make you kiss just anyone.” She whispered and nudged her head. “Like him.”

  The old man next to us had grease from his egg sandwich dribbling down his chin.

  Knowing she wouldn’t back down from this idea, I sighed and muttered, “Fine.”

  “What was that? I couldn’t hear you?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Fine!”

  “Great. Who’s it gonna be?” Nancy’s eyes wandered around the room, then landed on someone in the corner. “Yes.” She beamed. “Ohhhh, yes. Yes. Yes! Today is your lucky day. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed him sooner.” She squinted. “Doesn’t look like he’s wearing a wedding ring, either, so score.”

  I braced myself, then turned around to see whom she was looking at.

  She had to be kidding me.

  The distinguished-looking, dark-haired man sitting in the corner was drop-dead gorgeous, dressed to the nines in a three-piece suit that looked like it was tailor-made for his perfect physique. His nose was buried in The New York Times. It was a perfect nose that complemented his perfect jaw-line. Have I mentioned he was perfect?

  This guy would laugh in my face!

  There was no way I was going to embarrass myself in front of him. The choice had to be a happy medium…someone I wouldn’t mind making a fool of myself in front of—but he also couldn’t be hideous.

  “Okay, who’s it going to be?” she said, looking down at the time on her phone. “I think I’m going to run to get some Christmas shopping done since Rex bailed. So let’s get this show on the road.”

  My eyes perused the room.

  The young mom in the corner with her baby? Nope.

  The teenage barista boy? Um…pretty sure I’d get arrested.

  Oh my God.

  There was literally no one else aside from the old man and Mr. Perfect.

  I reassessed.

  The dribbler next to us? No way. I just couldn’t do it, not even on my best day.

  It came back to Mr. Perfect. He’d won by default.

  “You’re right. He’s the only viable option.” I blew a frustrated breath up into my dirty blonde hair. “The guy is going to think I’m a nutjob.”

  “Not if you explain yourself properly. It’s up to you as to how you spin it.”

  “If I do this, I get to prove a point. But what’s in it for you?”

  “Either I get to prove myself right, or I get to have a little fun. Either way, I win. Besides, I think it’s actually good for you. When’s the last time those lips have been touched anyway?”

  I couldn’t even remember. That was sad. Honestly, I hadn’t kissed anyone since my cheating ex, Rex. (Yes, Rex rhymes with ex, and I should’ve taken it as an omen before I ever said ‘I do’.)

  Taking a deep breath in, I got up. “I’m going to get this over with.”

  My footsteps couldn’t have moved any slower. I kept looking back at Nancy as she watched me intently. My heart raced. The poor guy was oblivious as to what was about to happen.

  Madonna’s rendition of “Santa Baby” played in the background as I made m
y way slowly over to him.

  I found myself even more paralyzed the closer I got to his beautiful face.

  Stopping right in front of him, I froze.

  He turned his head away from what he was reading when he noticed me standing there. “Can I help you?” Of course, his sexy voice matched his exterior.

  My nerves suddenly got the best of me as I stammered, “Hi…I’m Margo?”

  It came out like a question. Margo? Like I didn’t even know my own damn name.

  He closed his newspaper. “Hi.”

  I just stood there and continued to say nothing.

  “Is…everything alright?” he asked.

  Sort of feeling like I was going to piss my pants, I said, “I don’t usually do things like this…um…”

  He was just squinting at me now. This man thought I was an idiot. I couldn’t blame him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Laughing exaggeratedly, I said, “Oh my God, yes. Everything is great.” I turned around to look at my friend. She was giving me the thumbs-up, egging me on to continue.

  “Is it okay if I sit?” I did so before he could even say yes or no. My chair skidded against the wooden floor.

  “Uh…yeah. Go right on ahead.”

  Clasping my fingers together, I smiled at him.

  He finally lifted his brow in question, which served as my cue to say something.

  Push it out.

  “I’m sorry I’m acting so strangely. You’re going to think this is crazy.” I pointed back to Nancy. “My friend over there…we’ve known each other since we were kids. She and I have always had these funny bets over the years. Anyway, she just basically accused me of not having a spontaneous bone in my body. I didn’t like that. It made me a little angry, actually.” I licked my lips. “You seem like a successful guy. I’m sure you know what it feels like to be competitive.”

  He glanced over at Nancy, then back at me, still looking confused as he said, “Okay…”

  “Well…she’s not entirely right about me. Just because someone chooses to live responsibly the majority of the time, that doesn’t mean they aren’t capable of having fun.” I was totally rambling and needed to get to the point. “Anyway, she got me to agree to a blind bet, where I would basically agree in advance to do whatever she directed me to—to prove my spontaneity. That’s why I’m here.”