A Little Holiday Temptation

by Janice Sims

Carlo smiled and nodded in the affirmative. “I’m satisfied,” he said. He set his empty glass on the side table next to the lamp where he was sitting and got to his feet. Erik set his nearly untouched drink down, too, and stood. They shook hands, which felt like Carlo’s seal of approval to Erik. “Welcome to the family, son,” said Carlo. Then he hugged Erik briefly and added, “Buono notte.” With that he turned and left the room.

  Erik went to bed. When he got to his room he dialed Ana’s cell phone number.

  “Hello, darling,” Ana said, her voice husky.

  “I think I just had ‘the talk’ with your father,” Erik said, laughter evident in his tone.

  “It had to happen sooner or later,” Ana told him. “He’s a traditionalist. What did he say?”

  “He just wanted to know that I’m sincere,” Erik said, “and I assured him I was. Could we have all boys when we have children? I don’t know if I can be a father to a girl. It’s too complicated.”

  Ana laughed. “You’ll have to talk to God about that.”

  “I’ll do that when I say my prayers tonight. Right after I thank Him for you.”

  “Okay, darling, sleep well,” Ana said, laughing softly. “I’ll dream about you.”

  * * *

  The following day was Christmas Eve, Ana and Erik were the first ones up since they had been designated to prepare breakfast. It was a bright day, the sunlight reflecting off the snowbanks outside. Per the rental agreement someone had come that morning to shovel the snow from the walkway in front of the house and the snow plow had been in the neighborhood as well, so the roads were clear. After breakfast the men went to buy a Christmas tree and the women, with the children, made the kitchen their gathering place as Elle and Natalie, along with help from Ana, began cooking Christmas dinner. Tomorrow no one planned to be slaving over a hot stove while they could be spending time with the family.

  Sophia happily took charge of the children, keeping the girls entertained with games and coloring books and the babies were content to be in their carriers with cheerful sounds all around them.

  Ana had to smile because her mother clearly deferred to Elle when it came to recipes. Elle listed items and Natalie followed orders as if she were Elle’s sous chef and without attitude. She was not a diva in the kitchen.

  The turkey and ham were in the oven. Elle was washing turnip greens in the sink and Natalie was stirring the macaroni and cheese in a pot on the stove top prior to putting it into the oven. Sophia had put on a CD of Christmas music to which they hummed.

  “This reminds me of when my grandmother and I would cook together,” Elle said, smiling at the thought. “It was a lot of work but the end results were always worth it.”

  “I hope so,” said Ana, struggling with the pecan pie she was making. She thought the mixture looked too watery but Elle assured her that the pie would firm up when it had finished baking. Ana went and put the pie in one of the double ovens. She peeked at the panettone while she had the oven door open. The dough had risen ten hours, after which Carlo had punched it down in its bowl and then transferred the dough to two baking pans and allowed the dough to rise five more hours. Her father had said the two loaves should cook for approximately forty-five minutes. No wonder most people in Milan buy their panettone from a reputable baker, Ana thought.

  The conquering heroes got back around noon with the tree, an eight-foot fir. Famished, they were served hot soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. After which the women insisted they put the tree up so it could be decorated.

  That night, after dinner, the family put the finishing touches on the tree and it took pride of place in front of the picture window in the entertainment room not far from the grand piano. Presents were put under the tree as well as the panettone which was carefully wrapped by Carlo. Ariana and Renata took particular delight in the tree-lighting ceremony. Ariana, with the help of her father, got to put the star at the top of the tree, and Renata with the help of her father got to switch on the lights.

  The babies had been put to bed earlier in the evening. At around nine o’clock Carlo sternly told Ariana and Renata, “You must go to bed now, girls, or else Babbo Natale will not bring you any presents.”

  Ariana and Renata looked at each other with stretched eyes. They believed every word out of their grandfather’s mouth. With urgency they began kissing everyone good-night and hurried their parents along so they could be tucked into bed as quickly as possible and go fast asleep for fear of angering Babbo Natale.

  Once the girls were off to bed and there was no chance of them hearing, Natalie exclaimed, “You get a kick out of scaring those sweet babies, don’t you?”

  Her husband laughed quietly. “That’s half the fun, cara mia.”

  * * *

  On Christmas morning, Ana was awakened by the sound of her nieces’ high-pitched screams of delight. Babbo Natale had apparently visited during the night and left them presents. She hurried into the nearby bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, then put on a bathrobe and slippers and joined her family around the Christmas tree.

  Everyone was there, also in robes and slippers. The mothers held their sons and the fathers their daughters in their laps as the little girls tore the gift wrap off their presents. “Buon Natale!” Ana said, smiling.

  “Buon Natale,” chorused her family back at her.

  The adults were not interested in exchanging gifts, only in seeing the joy on the children’s faces. This to them was the true meaning of Christmas. After all, it was a child for whom the tradition was started.

  Ana sat down beside Erik and he put his arms around her in a warm hug. She kissed his cheek. “Thank you again for doing this for me. I’m so happy!”

  “Thank you for loving me,” he said in her ear. “That’s all the thanks I need.”

  The following day there were tearful goodbyes at the airport as Ana’s family prepared to board the plane for New York City, after which they would take a connecting flight to Italy. She and Erik would also be flying to New York but her family’s flight left earlier. She regretted that no one had had the foresight to try to book them all on the same flight.

  She kissed them all at the terminal. Her father pulled her and Erik aside for a moment. “Oh, Ana, I forgot to tell you, Pietro Lanza is heading up the New York office. He’s already in New York but is staying at a hotel until he can find more permanent accommodations. I gave him your number. He doesn’t know anyone in the city.”

  “I didn’t know Pietro had been promoted,” said Ana. “Good for him.”

  “Yes,” said her father. “He’s earned it.”

  “It’ll be nice to see your first love again, huh?” Sophia said, interrupting with a mischievous grin on her face. She looked at Erik. “Oh, she was wild about him.”

  Ana laughed. “We were twelve!”

  “I don’t care, you never forget your first love,” Sophia teased.

  It was announced that passengers could begin boarding the plane. Ana got in a few additional kisses, and she and Erik waved goodbye to her family.

  Chapter 11

  Natalie phoned Ana to let her know they had arrived home safely. Ana was snuggling in bed with Erik, his body pressed close to hers. He slept soundly while she talked.

  The subject returned to wedding plans. “Your sister’s heart was in the right place,” Natalie said in her older daughter’s defense. “You do need to start thinking seriously about what you want to do. Do you want a winter wedding or a spring wedding? Call me when you decide. As your mother, I do want to be involved.”

  “All right, Mom, I’ll call you,” Ana promised.

  Natalie was unable to suppress a yawn. “I could sleep for a week. Your father’s already snoring. I’d better go. Take care, sweetheart.”

  “You, too,” said Ana. Ana hung up the phone and got comfortable
in Erik’s arms once more.

  He stirred. “Your folks?”

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “Letting me know they’re home. Are you awake or talking in your sleep?”

  He kissed her naked shoulder. “I’m awake.”

  Ana felt him hardening. “Awake enough to discuss the wedding?”

  “Okay,” he said, sounding disappointed to her.

  “You keep telling me to do what I like, but what about your schedule? Would work get in the way of a honeymoon if we were married during a certain time of year?”

  “You’re asking if I have a busy time of the year?” he asked.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “I can arrange time off at any time you prefer,” he told her.

  “Really, Erik, you’re too flexible.”

  He kissed the back of her neck. “I’ll show you flexible.”

  She squirmed in his arms. “You’re no help at all.”

  He cupped her left breast. “Let’s get married in June. I hear June weddings are nice.”

  “Then you want to be married outdoors?”

  “Yes, you choose the place.”

  “Your parents’ garden in New Haven,” she said. “I want Drusilla there and travel isn’t easy on her, even though she’d deny it.”

  “I’m sure Mom and Dad and Grandma would love that,” Erik said.

  “Okay, that’s settled,” Ana said smiling, “How many guests?”

  “Oh, a few hundred,” Erik joked.

  “Be serious. Family and close friends only,” Ana said with a tired sigh. “The guest list is always longer in the end than when it starts out. Let’s say a hundred, tops.”

  “That’s fine,” Erik said. “And I hope the paparazzi will leave you alone.”

  Ana hadn’t thought about that. She didn’t know why. She’d seen scenes where the paparazzi were camped out at wedding venues of celebrities hoping to get that money shot—that spectacular photo that would sell for an outrageous amount.

  “We won’t put the announcement in the papers,” she suggested. “No one has to know except those who get invitations.”

  “And you expect everyone to keep our secret?” he asked skeptically.

  “I know I’m being unrealistic, but we can try it,” Ana returned.

  Ana touched his cheek. He smiled. “Your eyes are the color of the sunset over the ocean in Tahiti,” she said.

  “You would know,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said, grinning. She gently kissed his lips. “And your lips are soft as a feather from heaven.”

  “How poetic,” he whispered with a naughty glint in his eye. “Have you been in contact with many feathers from heaven lately?” His hands were squeezing her butt.

  “I don’t think you know your sexual appeal,” she continued, ignoring for the moment the ache in her feminine core. “Women come on to you all the time and you don’t even notice.”

  “I notice, I just don’t care,” Erik said truthfully. His penis was fully erect now. He rolled over and got a condom off the nightstand’s top where he had tossed a couple a few hours ago. Handing it to Ana, he said, “Would you?”

  Ana took it, tore it open and easily rolled the latex condom onto him. The wrapper was dropped onto the nightstand and she climbed on top of him. Her hair spilled down her back. Erik enjoyed the sight of her, full breasts with the nipples erect and pointing north. Her skin felt soft as silk beneath his fingers. He went deep inside her and felt her contract around his shaft. Felt the need building within her. She wasn’t shy anymore.

  She was now comfortable enough to tell him what she wanted, and bold enough to take it. Her breasts bounced up and down as they increased their efforts. She grasped his hands, their fingers entwined, soft pants issuing from her full lips. Sometimes they made love but sometimes they carried on like a pair of animals in the wild. This was one of those times. She closed her eyes and he knew she was about to scream when he felt her tremble inside. She screamed and fell on top of him. He came in a powerful rush, so turned on by her taking her pleasure that he could no longer hold on to his. As he collapsed back onto the bed she was smiling with satisfaction. He pushed the hair out of her eyes and wrapped his strong arms around her and then, worried she might catch a chill, he pulled the covers up over them.

  Ana lay there thinking that if she had never gotten up the nerve to tell Erik how she really felt about him, she would be in this bed alone, except perhaps for a book by one of her favorite authors. Things had certainly changed.

  * * *

  To thank her for arranging the Aspen trip Ana sent Abby flowers and a gift certificate for the works at an exclusive spa. She knew from a past conversation with Abby that she longed for a day of pampering, however considered an expensive spa too much of a splurge. Her husband was a schoolteacher, after all. Ana got Erik to agree to give Abby the day off. Abby would have no feasible reason to refuse Ana’s gift.

  When Pietro Lanza phoned Ana a couple of days before New Year’s Eve, she wasn’t at all surprised. But she was a bit at a loss for words. She hadn’t seen him or spoken to him since they were twelve and he and his widowed mother, Maria, moved to Rome. Ana’s mother and Maria Lanza were friends and had stayed in touch, so when Pietro decided to work in the fashion industry he had been hired by Ana’s father and moved back to Milan. Every now and then her father would mention that Pietro was doing well and swiftly climbing the corporate ladder. It was Sophia who had trained him and now Pietro had been given a position, which would have been hers if she had not wanted to remain in Milan. But she preferred raising her children in her hometown.

  Ana didn’t even recognize Pietro’s voice, which was deep and sexy. They naturally lapsed into Italian as soon as he introduced himself and after ten minutes or so, Ana relaxed and remembered how comfortable she used to be around him. “You must come to the Whitaker’s New Year’s Eve party,” she said. “I’d love to see you.”

  “I don’t know,” he hesitated. “I don’t have a date.”

  “Come solo,” Ana suggested. “You’ll probably meet someone at the party.”

  “You always were an optimist,” he said, laughter evident in his voice.

  “Then you’ll come?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there,” he agreed.

  * * *

  The Whitaker’s New Year’s Eve party was an opportunity to dress to the nines and toast in the New Year with people you admired. Erik and Ana greeted guests as they began arriving at nine. She wore a short, sleeveless scoop-neck silver matte dress with black accessories. Erik wore a black tuxedo with a red bow tie and white cummerbund.

  Music played softly in the background. The band wouldn’t begin their first set until ten.

  Guests mingled and partook of the feast at the buffet tables and imbibed spirits offered up by bars at either end of the room. The penthouse was huge with plenty of space to accommodate the expected one hundred-plus revelers.

  The hardwood floors were ideal for dancing and the view of the New York City skyline was awe-inspiring in daylight but even more so at night.

  Ana could not restrain herself when Abby arrived with her husband, Harry. She walked swiftly to the older woman and hugged her. “Wow, you look fantastic!”

  Abby had abandoned her smooth chignon in favor of a wavy, chin length style that accentuated her high cheekbones and beautifully framed her heart-shaped face. She wore a sleeveless black dress with a square-shaped bodice and sparkly silver sandals with a matching clutch. Her fake fur sable coat was the same color as her hair, a warm auburn. Harry looked wonderful in a black tuxedo with white tie and white cummerbund. While his wife was petite, he was tall and lanky, his head completely bald. He reminded Ana of a young James Earl Jones, especially when he smiled and she saw a small gap between his teeth.

  “I had a ball at the spa,
” Abby said, her eyes twinkling. She peered down at her feet and wiggled her toes. “Look, passionate pink.”

  “Fabulous!” Ana declared, admiring the color. They giggled together like little girls.

  Meanwhile, Erik and Harry were shaking hands and murmuring masculine hellos. Harry glanced at Abby and Ana, a smile on his face. “How did we get so lucky?”

  Erik laughed shortly. “Beats me,” he said. Indeed, both Ana and Abby were radiant tonight but it was not due to what they were wearing but to how content they seemed to be with their lives. Erik had always admired Harry and Abby for their devotion to one another. He wished for himself and Ana to enjoy such a long and happy marriage.

  Abby came and grabbed Harry by the hand. “I’m starving.”

  Harry peered over his shoulder at Erik and Ana as he let himself be lead away by his wife. “She’s been eating like a bird, afraid she wouldn’t fit in that dress.”

  Ana and Erik smiled knowingly. A moment after Abby and Harry left in search of food the bell rang again and Ana opened the door to Pietro and his date, a curvy brunette in a little red dress. Ana recognized Pietro’s dark brown, almost black eyes, at once. Those thick lashes were not easy to forget. Nor his darkly tanned skin, wavy black hair, square jaw and full-lipped mouth. He had been a beautiful boy and he was a gorgeous man.

  “Ana!” he exclaimed and pulled her into his arms for a kiss on the mouth—a kiss that, in Erik’s estimation, lasted far too long.

  Ana was startled for two reasons: she hadn’t expected to be kissed on the mouth by Pietro, on the cheek, yes; and she hadn’t expected him to show up with a date, especially not a female date.

  How had he put it thirteen years ago when she had confessed she liked him, her teenaged heart open and vulnerable? I like you too, Ana. But, I’m sorry, not in that way. I don’t like girls in that way. His revelation had not been put eloquently but she had certainly understood. Pietro was gay.

  “It’s a secret,” he’d told her in his innocence. “I haven’t even told my parents.” At the time his father was still living. But a short time after that his father had been killed in a construction accident, and he and his mother had moved to Rome to live with her family.