by Amanda Rose
Ding.
Annoyingly slow, the doors of the elevator rolled open and with a lot of shaking and hustling, the tree was pulled out of Mary's face. Thank fuck, he was getting out of the elevator. She brushed over her coat, getting rid of all the pine needles and carefully waggled out of the elevator. Into the tree.
"Goddamnit, you're still blocking me!" she cursed with a mouthful of Christmas.
"I'm so sorry, I thought I’d gone backwards enough!" the guy called out, shaking the tree again and pulling it out of Mary's way. "Did I hurt you?"
"You only deepthroated me with your tree, but apart from that, I'm fuckin peachy!" she shouted, whacking the branches out of her way with her purse.
"I'm so sorry, ma'am."
"It's miss! Miss! Do I look old enough to be a freaking ma'am?" Mary yelled, finally squeezing through the gap of the elevator and the tree. She stumbled into the hallway and with blazing eyes, faced the man who had managed to thoroughly piss her off in the past couple of minutes. Definitely a record.
"What are you staring at?" she hissed at the guy blocking her way, snorting at his Christmas hat. What was everyone's obsession with the holidays anyway?
He quickly averted his eyes. "Oh no, no, no! Come on!" he called out, banging the little arrow to get elevator back. No use. Almost mockingly, the elevator flashed its numbers as it descended back down.
"You're still in my way," Mary huffed, pulling up her nose.
"Well, excuse me..." he mumbled, slowly growing frustrated with the whole situation. Why couldn't this bitchy, albeit beautiful, stranger not be a little more patient.
"I'm sorry, I'm not being very polite, am I?" he suddenly heard. He slowly turned around, not sure he had heard that right.
"It's just a shit day, that's all," Mary explained, slightly embarrassed for being so rude to this stranger. This very handsome stranger. If only she'd seen his face before she started being pissy to him.
"Tell me about it," he sighed, impatiently hitting the little elevator buttons again. His face was contorted in a frustrated frown, but it didn't make him any less handsome. In fact, Mary thought it even made him almost cuter.
"I haven't seen you around," she stated, deciding that if she was going to be stuck in the hallway with a tree and a handsome stranger between her and her flat, she might as well make the most of it. After all, it wasn't his fault her trip got cancelled.
"Oh, I don't live here," he mumbled, refusing to make eye contact. Mary scratched the back of her neck, feeling guilty for being so mean.
"So you're just Santa, bringing Christmas trees to random buildings?" she tried again.
"My nan lives here and she wanted a big tree," he explained, glaring at the number display. Mary helpfully pressed the buttons on her side, trying to speed up the elevator.
The faster she could get this man and his tree back in the elevator, the faster she could lounge on her couch. But then again...how often do you meet handsome strangers in your hallway? Not often enough, Mary thought, glancing at the blonde guy. Maybe she should offer him a hand. And then help him with the tree. She could use some distraction and holiday fun, instead of spending it alone with a dusty Christmas tree that, quite frankly, was a fire hazard.
"My name is Mary," she introduced herself, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder as she straightened out her posture. AKA, pushed her chest out. Just one of those things that nobody could resist.
"I'm Louis," the blonde guy muttered, his gaze fixated on the elevator display. Mary squinted her eyes, annoyed that he didn't seem to be affected by her little show. But that would change soon. With swaying hips and a grin on her lips, she approached the man still refusing to look at her.
"Hi Louis," she purred, curling her hand around the trunk of the tree. Immediate regret flashed through her as the sharp needles dug into her palm, but she hid her pain behind a smirk. "That's a big tree you got here. Maybe I can help you get it up."
Alarmed by her sudden change in mood, Louis clenched his fist harder around the tree. What was up with this girl? Was she saying what he thought she was? But then again, no, that couldn't be. People didn't flirt shamelessly like this in real life, that only happened in books and movies. And this certainly wasn't either of those.
Too annoyed to meet Mary's gaze, Louis impatiently banged the arrow buttons again and sighed in relief when the numbers on the display steadily rolled up. If nobody else interrupted the elevator, he could get out of this hallway and away from this bitchy woman, who was standing so close he could smell her perfume. Roses and vanilla. A slightly unusual combination of scents, yet somehow, she made it work. Not that he cared. Or at least, that’s what he tried telling himself.
Mary grinned as she noticed the blush appearing on Louis's face. So it was working after all.
"If you need help decorating, I'd always be willing to give you a hand. I know how to handle my baubles," she continued, enjoying the deer in headlights look in Louis's eyes. Inappropriately flirting with strangers was her favourite game, after all.
Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven. Only ten more floors. Louis counted out in his head, desperately begging the elevator to get here quicker. Mary's scent was distracting him and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore her standing so close.
"I haven't seen a real tree in a while. I only have a plastic one in my room, but that isn't nearly as fun," she purred, winking suggestively at Louis.
Ding
To Louis's relief, the doors of the elevator slid open. He quickly checked if it was empty and then shoved the tree clumsily inside. With a quick "bye", he quickly stumbled away from Mary, sighing as the doors closed, leaving her flabbergasted in the hallway.
"Damn it!" she cursed, not believing Louis actually ran away from her. That had never happened before.
Ding
"Did you say something?" Louis asked curiously, glad to have put some distance between him and Mary. With a tree to hide behind, he felt a lot more confident.
Only now realising the doors of the elevator had slid back open, Mary spun around. "No, no, no no no, nothing. Nothing," she stammered, caught off guard.
CHAPTER TWO
Stuff my mailslot.
Angry, Mary stormed through the hallway to her flat. What did that hot nerd think, rejecting her? She wasn't exactly used to guys not hitting on her, let alone not reciprocate. Was something off today? She glared in the mirror, wondering if she had a massive pimple in the middle of her face and blew in her hand, sniffing the air. Assured she hadn’t turned into a hog, she glared at herself again. Why hadn't he reacted to her flirting?
"Stupid guy," she muttered, throwing her dark hair over her shoulder. She admired her reflection once more, deciding that she definitely looked okay.
Maybe he was just gay. Or happily married. She scoffed. Yeah, like such a thing existed.
Deciding not to care, she went through the stack of mail she’d brought up from her postbox.
"Damn it!" she cursed, noticing that more than half was for one of the older residents in the building. Again. The stupid mailman kept messing up, confusing the two mailslots.
She could only blame him and her idiotic mother, who’d decided to name her Mary Smithfield, as if she was a grandma already.
With a bunch of postcards in her hand, she stormed out of her flat. The display indicated that the elevator was already on its way back down. Annoyed, she kicked some stray pine needles out of the way, and impatiently clicked the arrow button multiple times. She didn't have time for all this nonsense. Why couldn't Christmas be over yet?
To her dismay, the elevator was filled with a layer of pine needles, and as she arrived on the floor of Mrs. Smithfield, the whole hallway was scattered as well. Stupid guy with his tree. Already bitter about the holidays, she couldn't help but be extra annoyed at him for not even blinking at her advances.
Harder than necessary, she knocked loudly on Mrs. Smithfield's door. No reaction. For a brief moment, she considered just shoving the post
cards under her door or dropping them in front of her flat, but Mary actually liked Mrs. Smithfield. She was always nice and it wasn't her fault that the postman was too lazy and kept dropping the mail in the wrong slot.
"Yes?"
Mary groaned and slapped the stack of mail against her forehead. "Not you again."
The blonde guy from in the elevator, Louis, squinted his eyes and glared at Mary. "I could say the same thing."
"What are you doing here?" she snapped, cursing at herself for not realising there was a good reason that there were a lot more pine needles in front of Mrs. Smithfield's door than anywhere else.
"I'm visiting my nan. What are you doing here?"
Mary waved the colourful postcards in front of his face, not believing he was Mrs. Smithfield's grandson. She must've been quite a beautiful woman in her time to have such nice-looking offspring. Shame he was gay. And a jerk. He was a gay jerk.
"I'm here to drop off her mail."
Louis narrowed his eyes. "Why do you have her mail? Did you steal it?"
"Of course not!" Mary exclaimed offended, resisting the urge to strangle him. "Is she in?"
"I'll give it to her," he protested, reaching out to snatch the cards out of her hand.
"Oi! How do I know you didn't break in and are holding her hostage? I'm not giving you her mail."
"That's ridiculous! Why would I break in with a Christmas tree?"
Mary had to admit that was a good point, but she wasn't in the mood to back down. "Maybe it's the perfect crime. Mrs. Smithfield? Mrs. Smithfield? Are you alright?"
"For fuck's sake, stop yelling," Louis groaned, opening the door wider so Mary could peek inside the flat. "Nan’s enjoying her cup of tea, can she drink it in peace?"
From inside, Mrs. Smithfield waved happily at Mary, not exactly understanding what all the hassle was outside her flat. But she didn't care. Her grandson was here to visit and the nice girl from upstairs was back for another visit.
"Fine. Not a burglar then," Mary snapped, not particularly enjoying that she had to admit defeat.
Louis shook his head, running his hand through his blonde hair. This girl was a pain. "No, not a burglar. Can I get the mail now?"
Mary squinted her eyes, studying his extended hand. That was a big hand. And he seemed to have big feet. And you know what they say about guys with big feet... "I'll give it to her myself," she said stubbornly, making Louis sigh in frustration. For some unknown reason, this Mary girl managed to get right under his skin.
"Suit yourself," he muttered, swinging the door open and stepping aside to let her in. A whiff of roses and vanilla passed him by as she entered the flat. Again, not that he cared. Roses were not his favourite flower. Not at all.
"Mrs. Smithfield, so nice to see you," Mary smiled, placing the stack of post cards next to the old-fashioned tea cup. "I brought your mail."
"Thank you, my dear," Mrs. Smithfield croaked, waving her arthritis riddled fingers at her grandson. "Have you met my grandson? Louis, come here and say hello to this nice girl."
Reluctantly, Louis closed the door, accepting the Mary girl wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
"Stand up straight, dear!" his grandmother lovingly scolded, bending down towards Mary. "He's still single. And isn't he handsome looking?" she whispered loudly, nudging towards an embarrassed Louis.
"Nan!" he exclaimed, his ears turning red. He didn't need Mary to know how pathetic his love life was.
"He's a tad messy and he leaves his socks lying about, but dear, he's such a great cuddler!" Mrs. Smithfield added, ignoring any of Louis' protests. Mary grinned at his discomfort, nodding along with anything the elderly lady said.
"That's enough, Nan!" Louis quickly yelled, grabbing the kettle. "More tea?"
"Oh, of course. See, he's a sweetheart. You should go out with him," she nudged Mary, effectively wiping the smirk from her face. After he so blatantly rejected her, she'd rather not go on a date with him. But her apprehension was lost on Mrs. Smithfield. She happily suggested a small bistro downtown, managing to make both parties awkwardly glance at each other.
"Umm..." Mary muttered, glaring at Louis. This was his grandmother, he should deal with this awkward situation.
Louis glanced at the angry brunette, briefly wondering how he could piss her off more, and grinned. "I think that's a great idea, Nan. Mary, you agree, right? We should go on a date!" he cheerfully whistled, watching her face fall as she realised they’d backed her in a corner.
"I..." she mumbled, glancing from grandmother to grandson. They were both smiling sweetly at her, the same Chesire grin on their faces. Definitely related, Mary noted.
"Fine. A date. Of course, a date. Sounds fuc...bulous. Fabulous."
CHAPTER THREE
Bite my pretzel.
The cold wind slashed Mary in the face as she exited her building. She groaned, throwing her red scarf around her neck. She couldn't believe she was actually going on the date. But then again, she couldn't exactly stand Louise up and crush Mrs. Smithfield. She was so excited to set up her favourite neighbour with her grandson.
Mary stomped her feet into the snow, glad she chose to store all her heels in her closet. The icy streets and high stilettos were not a good combination, no matter how long and sexy they made her legs look.
She angrily swatted at a snowflake in front of her face. Just to mess with Louis, she considered wearing her lacy dress. The one that clung to her every curve and turned every guy she met into a puddle. But with the snow and her massive jacket, she decided it was a wasted effort. Part of her still thought Louis was gay, another part of her felt like he didn't deserve seeing her in all her beauty. And now she was walking through the cold air to some random Christmas market that Louis picked out. She was almost a hundred percent certain he chose it just to piss her off.
"Fucking snot weather!" she growled, kicking a heap of refrozen snow sludge at the side of the road. Three people awkwardly glanced over their shoulder at the petite woman who was throwing a public tantrum.
"What are you all looking at?" Mary yelled, her eyes blazing at all the noisy passengers. They should just mind their own business instead of looking at her with all their judgy eyes. It wasn't her fault this whole winter was as shitty as a season could come.
The cinnamony scent wafting from the Christmas stands was actually rather pleasant and Mary couldn't help but admit that it looked quite inviting. With strings of old-fashioned coloured lights and the occasional Christmas tree here and there, the whole market had a cosy vibe that definitely screamed happy holidays. Maybe not such a bad date spot after all. Now she just needed to find Louis, make sure not to kill him, and try and have a nice time.
"Hello, Mary." she heard from behind her. She quickly turned around and stood eye to eye with...
Santa Claus.
"Errr..." she stuttered, glancing up and down at Santa. What did he want? How did he know her name? Wait...
"Oh sorry," Santa muttered, pulling down his beard to reveal a rather smug looking face and blonde hair.
"Louis," Mary stated, her blood boiling as she glared at the Santa clothed guy. What. The. Actual. Hell. Was Louis really dressed like Santa Claus? On a date? The audacity.
"Are you freaking kidding me?" Mary exclaimed, not sure whether to cry or laugh. Her first "date" in a while and this was how the guy showed up?
"Is there an issue?" Louis smiled innocently, rather pleased that his costume had the desired effect.
Mary's eyes widened like saucers. "Yes, there is an issue. This—" she gestured at his whole outfit. "—Is an issue. Why the hell are you dressed like Santa?"
Louis smirked, his white beard snapping back to his face. "I forgot I was working today," he winked, basking in Mary's angry glares. He guessed right, she did think it was embarrassing to be on a date with Santa.
"If you're telling me that our date consists of me helping you work, I'm out of here right now. I don't care what you tell your grandma!" Mary scoffed. If looks could've k
illed, Louis would've disintegrated on the spot.
The blond held up his hands. "Ho, ho, ho, I've just finished work. I just haven't been able to change yet." Another lie. His regular clothes were in his burlap sack, but he sure as hell wouldn't tell the little she-devil that.
Mary squinted at Louis, not sure if she was being punked or not. "Did you just use... "Ho, ho, ho," in a real sentence?"
Louis grinned, looking quite proud of himself. "I did. Neat, isn't it?"
"You like puns?"
"Actually, I do."
"Hmm...interesting," she mused, remembering he did react to her punny pick-up lines. Maybe he wasn't as composed and indifferent as he made himself out to be? Maybe she should seduce him, just so she could add him to her list. Yes, that seemed like a great idea, Mary thought, suddenly disappointed she wasn't wearing her sexy lace dress after all.
"Interesting?" Louis asked, cocking his head to the side.
"Yes."
"Why is that interesting?"
Mary grinned, deciding to ignore his Santa costume. If she had it her way, he wouldn't be wearing that red curtain much longer anyway.
"No reason," she smiled politely, throwing her dark hair over her shoulder. "Shall we go?"
For a moment, Louis was taken aback. Genuinely surprised that Mary didn't run straight home after he showed up in his costume, he faltered in his step.
"You coming?" Mary called over her shoulder, strolling into the market and pretending that going on a date with Santa Claus was just a daily occurrence. You know. Shopping for groceries, stocking the bathroom with tissues, going on a date with Santa, cooking dinner, just one of those things.
"Y-Yes." Louis scrambled after her, wondering if he’d misjudged her. If she was okay being seen with Santa, maybe she wasn't the judgy person he thought she was.
