"Be adventurous," suggested Danni.
"So you're having the Haunted Mist Latte?"
"No, I don't like marshmallow," answered Danielle. "I'll have the Pumpkin Spice Macchiato, please."
"Make that two," said Logan. "Might as well join the adventure."
"No Boo-Berry muffin?" Kevin asked.
"Not today, thanks."
Kevin scribbled a note on his pad and departed.
"Still watching your sugar intake?" Danni asked.
"I'm still interviewing for jobs, aren't I?" Logan answered. "Until I find one, I'll be maintaining my best outward self at all costs. Even a streusel-topped muffin can't bend my willpower." He smiled, wryly.
"To have your discipline," said Danni, with a dramatic sigh. "Oh, well. I guess I'll have to make do with my wayward habits. Ooh, and maybe a buttered raspberry scone."
"Stop baiting me," protested Logan. "Please. My willpower's not made of iron, believe it or not."
"I'll buy you one," she hinted.
"No, thanks," he said. "I'm skipping lunch because I've got an interview at two —" he checked his watch, "—and I'm nervous about this one. I'm afraid if I eat, it'll somehow come back up in the office, and I'll hurl all over the carpet."
"Thanks for that image," said Danni. "So, how's the job hunt going? Beyond your weak stomach, I mean."
She sneaked a glance at him when he thought she wasn't looking. That was always a sure way to gauge Logan's feelings, since his face tended to hide negative ones — albeit badly sometimes.
"Okay." He released a deep breath. "It's not what I'm used to. Being unemployed, I mean. But at the same time...I feel free. Better than I did when I was still at my old job. You weren't wrong when you said it wasn't a good fit for me."
His expression wasn't pain-filled. It was more relaxed than in the past, when the little worry lines in his forehead were threatening to become permanent. Danni felt better.
"But if you'd stayed, I'm sure you would have made it work somehow," she continued. "Knowing you, I mean."
"You mean if they didn't fire me first," said Logan. "At least this way I left with my dignity and grace. I just wish I had known when I applied for the job a year ago that the company was in this much trouble. Of course, I wouldn't have ended up here," he added. "So we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"That would be a shame," said Danni. Teasingly, but meaning it, she realized. She looked down to hide the sudden feeling of heat in her cheeks. Before her, a latte suddenly appeared. Kevin the barista was back.
"Anything else?" Kevin asked.
"We're good, thanks," said Danni.
"Then I'll be back with your check in a bit." A moment later, he was steaming milk for the next customer's latte, the machine's hiss audible above Pauline's soothing ambience soundtrack.
"What kind of shopping were you doing today?" Logan asked, after taking a sip of his — and making a face over the heavy spices, she noted.
"Oh, this? It's for Gabby's Halloween party," answered Danni, kicking the sack with her foot. "I have to pick up my costume by five, since the cleaner's is closed tomorrow."
"What are you going as?" he asked.
Danni hesitated. "A mermaid," she said, at last. And braced herself for his laugh in response to the mental image of herself as Ariel, sporting a big sparkly fish tail and hopping across the room to the snack buffet.
They had both agreed it ranked as the worst Halloween costume ever, short of going as a clown, when they were talking a few weeks ago. And now she would be sporting it for a whole night in Gabby's crowded apartment, envying other guests in roomier costumes.
There was a slight snort from his throat, but nothing else. Logan controlled the rest of his humor, so his smile seemed almost natural. "Really?" he ventured, when it was safe for him to speak. "Isn't that costume ... kind of hard to maneuver?"
"It wasn't my idea," Danni answered, quickly. "Gabby wants the party to have a theme, and she talked me into it."
"And what is Gabby?"
"She's a sea nymph. Practically Lady Godiva," answered Danni. "Jerry lucked out, he's going as a sailor."
"No openings in 'sailor's wench'?" enquired Logan.
"At least I didn't end up as the flounder, or the crab with the big paper mache shell. It could be worse, the costume. It's like a really tight skirt with big fins at the bottom. Like a big piece of trim sewn to the costume, really."
"And at least there's no scuba flippers, then," he said. "I'll bet you look great as a mermaid."
"Whoever heard of a blonde mermaid these days?" Danni asked. "Honestly. And I'm not wearing the red wig, either. I drew the line when Gabby suggested it."
"There are blonde mermaids. Remember Splash? And that Disney knockoff movie, the one that looks like an Anime cartoon. Plenty of them exist."
"I'm going to feel exactly like this fish-tailed fashion doll I had as a kid," Danni answered. "It was covered in glitter and its hair was a huge mess from me combing it a thousand times. There are glitzy plastic scales all over this costume, and a ton of stringy stuff on one side that I think is supposed to be seaweed."
"Show me," he said. On her phone, Danni pulled up a photo of the costume, being worn by a smiling model. Logan studied it.
"You'll look great," he said. "What's the word? Fetching. That's it."
She rolled her eyes. "Great," she said.
"No, you want to look fetching. It's good," he assured her. "Guys won't be able to take their eyes off you. Don't roll your eyes like that."
"Anyway, I picked up some accessories today. A hand mirror and a comb," she said, digging them out of the bag. "There's a party supply place that sold these fancy-looking plastic ones. Aren't mermaids supposed to have a mirror and comb?"
"I think I've heard that before," answered Logan.
"Of course, my hair will be in a big knot at the back of my head, so it doesn't matter much," said Danni. "I'm just carrying them for effect."
He looked puzzled. "Why are you doing your hair like that?" he asked. "It looks nice down."
"Because it's not practical to wear it down," said Danni. "And with the fishtail costume to worry about maneuvering, as you pointed out, I don't want to worry about my hair getting caught in the sequins of the two-piece top I'm wearing with it. I'm not brilliant at styling hair, so those are pretty much my only two looks — up or down."
"You can't wear it like that," Logan scoffed. "Come on. If you braid the top half it will shorten it and hold it back so you won't catch it on your sequins."
"That sounds like gibberish to me," said Danni. "I was never the girl who hung out with her friends and read Cosmo all afternoon. I can barely weave two pigtails."
"It's not hard. Let me show you." Logan stood up and moved behind her.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm braiding your hair. Relax. I used to do it for my sister all the time. There's nothing to it." His hands parted her hair into sections, carefully removing the two silver barrettes holding it back.
"Your sister taught you to braid hair?"
"It happens to every brother who's trying to be nice to his little sister," Logan answered. "Sooner or later, she needs somebody to help her pin it up in some elaborate style. In my family, I was the brother who got drafted for the job."
His hands were gently weaving her plaits of hair together. His fingers brushed her cheek by accident, and the softness of his touch surprised her. He was careful not to snag her strands together or pull them, Danni sensed. She heard the two barrettes snap into place afterwards.
"Dig out your hand mirror," he said. "Look and see."
She reached under the table and pulled out the plastic mirror, its foil surface reflecting a braided crown which reached almost to her shoulders, the rest falling past them in a gentle waterfall. Several inches shorter than her usual style — short enough that it would probably only brush against the sequined clasp of her top and not snag it.
"It's beautiful," she said. "How did you do
that?" She twisted around to look at Logan, who had a pleased grin on his face.
"See? I told you. It's easy. Look it up on YouTube and you'll see what I mean."
"Can you do my hair on Saturday?" she joked. "Do you have an opening in your busy schedule, by chance?"
He grimaced. "Sadly, I have a prior engagement," he answered. "My friend Eric has this thing at his place. I'm helping him set up early. Loud music, lots of very gruesome Jack o' Lanterns and costumes ... but he's my friend, so I said 'yes.'"
"Friends." She shook her head. "That's how I ended up in a mermaid suit."
"Yeah, well, Eric adult trick-or-treats at that downtown rush thing, believe it or not. So I might be free for an hour or so between slapping some fake blood on the walls and changing into my costume."
"Here's your check." Kimberly laid it on the table. "Anything else we can get you, let us know." She gave them both a bright smile.
"Thanks," said Logan. The barista disappeared behind the counter again, taking orders for the October special, the cafe's spice grinder whirring as she blended nutmeg and cinnamon together.
"What are you going as?" Danni asked Logan. "A pirate? A hockey player? That guy from Fifty Shades?" His silk-patterned tie, a grey-blue, made her think of this last one. Logan could look the part of someone debonair or rugged, she thought.
"Very funny," he answered. "I'm going as a zombie."
"Not exactly original." She wanted to suggest it was a waste of his potential, but didn't. Would that be a weird suggestion from a friend? Suddenly, she wasn't sure.
"No, but definitely more comfortable. And in keeping with most of the crowd at Eric's place. I got makeup and ratty old clothes to complete the look. And a really nice set of fake teeth." He showed her a picture on his phone, one of a model in zombie gear whose dental work appeared to be the product of meth, black coffee, and a sadistic dentist.
"Yuck," she said.
"Then it's perfect." He noticed the time, and sucked in a deep breath. "Destiny calls, so I have to go." He tucked his phone in his pocket. "I have a good feeling about this one. Or maybe I just want it. Either way, wish me luck?"
"Good luck. Or break a leg. Whichever one works for you," said Danni, earnestly. She found she was nervous at the thought of it herself, worrying whether Logan was facing success, or another disappointment, like the last two interviews. Let this one be the right one, she prayed, silently.
"Thanks." He took a deep breath. "How do I look?"
He looked good. His dark suit fit him perfectly, and the tie set off his eyes and his chestnut hair. Danni's look lingered a moment longer than it should, something she corrected by offering him a too-bright smile.
"You look perfect," she answered. "They won't be able to resist you."
"Let's hope so," he said.
"Call me when it's over," she added. Knowing he would call Doris first, naturally, who was still upset that he left the company where they both had worked; and he would probably call his family afterwards. Being third or fourth on his list of important people didn't make her less eager to know the details.
"Will do," he said. With that, he turned to go. The cafe door closed behind him as Danni finished the last of her pumpkin macchiato and noticed Logan's was still practically full. Must be the nerves, she thought. Or the nutmeg. But I think it's definitely the nerves. She touched his coffee cup, feeling the last of its warmth seeping through the ceramic. Just for a moment, she let herself imagine it was the warmth of his hand, then let the thought slip away from her mind.
Holiday Blues and Berry Scones
December
"What's in the shopping bag?" Danni asked.
Logan grimaced. "Don't ask," he answered, before rearranging his expression to a grin. "So, how's the Peppermint Latte?"
He could see she wasn't buying his subject switch. "What are you hiding?" she asked. "Did you get me a present? A hideously ugly dancing reindeer, like the one from the window display across the street that we laughed at?"
"Relax. I'm not one of those terrible friends who springs a present on you and leaves you feeling guilty you didn't have time to reciprocate," he answered.
"Whoa. That's a lot of guilt trip in one sentence," said Danni. "Did that happen to you once?" She sipped her coffee. "More than once?"
"Twice, actually," he admitted.
"So ... what's in the sack?"
"Okay, remember what I told you before about my family's Christmas Eve party tradition —"
Danielle didn't wait for him to finish. "Let's see it," she said, setting aside her coffee cup.
He sighed. "Here goes." He pulled the folded garment out of the sack and held it up to himself. "What do you think? Will I win Ugliest Sweater of the Holiday?"
It was a glaring neon red and green stripe, with felt brown reindeer stitched all over it, and 'Ho Ho Ho' embroidered in purple. Some of the reindeer sported tiny Santa hats.
Danielle was laughing so hard, he didn't think she could answer. "I think we can safely say this one will knock 'em dead at the Christmas party," he said, when she paused to catch her breath. "The finest in horrible holiday couture."
"It's great," she said, giggling a little with these words. "No, seriously, you'll look great in it. I think it suits you. And it looks comfortable, at least."
"Just in case this wasn't the one, I have a backup choice."
"A backup?" repeated Danielle. "You mean, you bought two of these things?" She took the reindeer sweater from him, examining it closely.
"There was a two for one deal at the secondhand shop," explained Logan. "The salesgirl insisted on throwing in a second one. I resisted, but .…" He trailed off as he pulled the second garment from the bag. "How could I say no?"
It was electric red, the centerpiece a big felt clump of what was apparently supposed to be mistletoe, little leaves and pearl beads clumped together above two quilted red hearts.
Danielle studied it with a critical eye, although her lips were still twitching. "I don't know," she said, after a moment. "Who all will be at this party? Just family? Or are there neighbors, friends ... maybe an old girlfriend or two from high school who's still available?" She lifted one eyebrow, suggestively.
"No ex-girlfriends," he said. "Nobody romantically unattached will be there, so I'm not meeting somebody special over the holidays, trust me."
He folded the sweater again, sneaking a glance to see if there was a reaction to his words in Danni's face — maybe one of relief for his answer? But Danni was busy holding up the reindeer sweater to herself, checking her reflection in the glass.
She sighed as she folded the second sweater and handed it back. "Being single for the holidays is the worst," she said, wryly. "You go home, and everyone asks you dozens of questions about why you're not seeing anybody, why you're not engaged yet —"
"Probably asking you, 'Aren't there any nice boys in the city?'" quipped Logan, in a high-pitched voice. "I think my family's given up on me. No more questions about why I'm showing up alone for the holidays, anyway."
If things had worked out differently .... But he wasn't thinking of Doris, with whom he'd mutually broken things off before Thanksgiving. He was thinking about the woman across from him. He caught himself thinking about her once a day, at least. Something she said, a look she gave him, the way she played with a long strand of her hair whenever she was thinking deeply about something ... images like this came to him at times when he least expected it, and was supposed to be focused on the details of his new job.
He told himself it was the shift in working hours, the natural adjustment to a new environment and new coworkers making him seek familiarity in his thoughts. But he knew that wasn't the reason. Lying to himself was only burying the truth that he was still attracted to Danni.
"When do you leave?" Danni asked.
"December 23rd," he answered. "The company's closing for Christmas through the weekend, but I have to be back by Sunday. There's a deadline for designing a new artist's software app by J
anuary."
"At least you have a big family party to look forward to," said Danni. "My family's not exactly the celebration type. Mom usually throws some ornaments on a tree and calls it good. Dad gets Chinese takeout for Christmas Day. Me and Nick and Lisy pretend to be thrilled by a variety of gift cards in little paper sacks."
"That's the complete opposite of what I pictured," said Logan. "You're so ... so outgoing ..."
"My 'busy social life,' as you call it," said Danni. "Yeah, I didn't get it through my genes. Not my parent's dominant ones, anyway." She grinned. "But you — committed quiet guy and introvert — has a family who love noisy holiday bashes with music and food. I'm jealous. I won't lie."
So come with me. Be my date. He wanted to say this so badly it was on the tip of his tongue. He could suggest she come as a friend, of course. He could let everybody else imagine what they would. But it would be more fun for him with Danni there, borrowing one of his hideous sweaters, than with a room full of family and friends who were all attached to someone else. Even his little sister Marissa now had a boyfriend to monopolize her time for the whole party.
"I'll bet there's mistletoe above every doorway," Danni teased.
"Tons of it," he answered. Trying really hard not to picture what would happen if two friends found themselves standing beneath it — deleting the part where his camera-happy grandmother caught them, for instance, and drew everybody's attention to them like a magnet. Waiting for the kiss, the two of them being teased mercilessly by everyone close by.
Would he kiss Danielle, given the chance?
"Have you ever kissed someone beneath it?" Danni asked. "I never have. I'm good at avoiding being trapped beneath it, I guess."
"My family made me kiss someone," he answered.
"Made you?"
"I was twelve, it was only my cousin ... I kissed her on the cheek. I was embarrassed, but everybody else thought it was cute. Two kids accidentally in mistletoe range. I thought I would die of humiliation. Candace, my cousin, didn't care. She'd probably really kissed a dozen boys by then — she was a heartbreaker in junior high."
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