by Grey, R. S.
“What activity?” Jolie asks.
She’s done tending to Ford and has apparently been listening to us.
I glare at Aiden with a warning that if he so much as breathes a word of last night to my sister, I will end him right here, right now.
“Oh, Maddie and I walked around Vail Village last night after dinner. We watched the ice skaters.”
“That sounds so fun. I’d suggest we all go back tonight, but I booked us reservations at the Four Seasons for Christmas Eve dinner. It was surprisingly difficult to get on the list. Vail society is extremely difficult to break into…”
I stop listening at some point as she drones on about things I couldn’t care less about. Besides, Aiden is still close to me, and I’ve yet to move so he can get his coffee.
He arches a brow as Jolie continues to instruct us to be on our best behavior tonight, and it’s like he’s challenging me right then and there.
“It’s not my behavior you have to worry about,” I tell her. “It’s Aiden’s.”
He laughs and nudges me out of the way so he can get his coffee.
Jolie takes Ford into his room for a diaper change, and I lean in toward Aiden.
“What’s gotten into you?” I hiss under my breath.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re different. Before, when we lived together…you never…” WENT DOWN ON ME, is what I want to shout, but instead, I settle on, “Flirted with me like this.”
“Yeah, well I don’t have the same amount of patience as I had back then.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sips his coffee nice and slow, watching me over the rim before finally deigning to answer me.
“I’m going after what I want, Maddie.”
“You can keep trying, but—”
“But what?”
“But it’s not going to happen,” I say, sounding definitive. “Last night is over. Find some other girl to entertain yourself with. I’m sure there will be plenty of willing women at the Four Seasons tonight.”
Especially if he turns that green gaze on them like he’s trying on me. I attempt to skirt around him then, feeling as though I’ve done a very good job of laying down the law. But then he uses catlike reflexes to reach for my hand and stops me before I can pass him.
We’re side by side when he turns his head and, with a tone so dead serious it makes my toes curl, asks me, “And if I want you?”
My mouth drops open, and he uses my momentary shock to turn me around so my back is against the counter. He steps in front of me, putting us chest to chest.
“You are not the Aiden I used to know.”
He smirks.
“I wanted you like this even back then. I just never acted on it.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “Call it politeness. Call it cowardice. Either way, I regret it, and I intend to make up for my mistakes.”
I narrow my eyes up at him, still trying to figure out his true motive. It’s all so convenient.
Oh, now he wants me?
Now?!
“I still don’t get it. You say you wanted me, but then why did you leave me and go to New York?” I ask, pushing him on his confession.
“I wrongly assumed my feelings weren’t reciprocated.” He reaches up to cradle my chin, then he tilts it up to bring my lips closer to his. “I thought I was the only one suffering.”
I hear someone coming down the hall, making their way toward the kitchen. Their footsteps echo louder and louder. For a fitful moment, I worry Aiden is going to stay right where he is, pressed against me. But just as James rounds the corner, Aiden steps around me to open the fridge.
“Good morning, guys,” James calls, cheerfully oblivious.
Oh is it a good morning, James?! IS IT?!
* * *
I leave the house after breakfast because I have the backbone of a jellyfish. I can’t just stay in that house and let Aiden continue to gain the upper hand. He really intends to get what he wants, and I’m not stubborn enough to fend him off for long.
Take last night, for example—that was quite a lapse in judgment. I thought I had things under control. I thought I was calling the shots.
Christmas Eve is supposed to be spent with family and friends, but I hole up in a coffee shop with my Kindle and a latte for the better part of the day. It’s lovely. The manager gives me a free gingerbread cookie when she sees me staring wistfully through the window. She assumes I have nowhere to go and no one to be with on Christmas Eve, and I don’t have the energy to correct her.
I’m at war with myself. I can’t make up my mind about what to do with Aiden. One minute, I worry he’s an arrogant full-of-himself asshole who is only telling me what he thinks I want to hear in an attempt to get his way. The next minute, I remind myself that I know Aiden. He’s not that guy. He wouldn’t lie to me like this just to have some holiday fling. Back and forth I go, like a tennis ball getting slammed around a court. I’m sweating with indecision, embarrassed as memories from last night flit back into my mind.
I can’t believe we did that.
I can’t believe he did that!
I’m unsettled and frazzled even later, as I finish getting ready to go out for dinner. Fortunately, I packed more than enough options of clothes to wear. I knew Aiden was going to be here this week, so I came prepared. I managed to stuff the entirety of my closet into the suitcases littering my room.
I settle on a slinky red dress that would be overly simple and boring, except for the short hemline and thin crisscrossed straps. My heels match. So do my lips. I leave my makeup minimal other than the lipstick, though. I’ve always appreciated a bold red lip paired with understated makeup.
I hear Aiden in the bathroom, finishing up getting ready. I’ve kept the door to my room closed, appreciating the few moments of privacy before I have to face him again.
I wish I had a clear path forward.
I wish my feelings for him had evaporated over time.
I wish…
There’s a knock on my door. It’s Jolie asking if I’m ready to go.
“Yeah, just another minute!” I shout back, straightening my dress and glancing at my reflection in the mirror once more to confirm everything looks to be in place. Killer dress, check. Red lips, check. Merry Christmas, Aiden. Eat your heart out.
Of course, I immediately recognize my mistake when I head to join the others in the living room. During all my prep work for tonight, I forgot to build a forcefield against Aiden. He brought the big guns too. He’s wearing dark jeans, a black sweater underneath an army green jacket, and stylish brown boots. He looks like a well-dressed bad boy, like the fearless journalist he is.
Horrible.
“Should we all ride over together?” Jolie asks. “The hotel isn’t far, but with it so cold out, I don’t think it’s smart to walk.”
“I could take Maddie separately?” Aiden offers.
“Together is fine!” I say, already heading past the group toward the cars outside.
I plant myself right beside Ford’s car seat, glad it’s placed in the middle of the second row of the SUV. It’s the perfect barrier between Aiden and me.
I busy myself with getting him buckled in.
He looks handsome tonight too in some ridiculous Burberry getup that probably cost more than what I pay for rent in a month.
“Won’t he just spit up on this?” I ask Jolie.
She pretends not to hear me.
Aiden smirks, and I look away. We are not in this together, buddy. You don’t get to appreciate my jokes.
With my mind not quite made up about how to handle Aiden, I decide to continue as planned. Keep him at bay. Keep my sanity and heart safely tucked away. Resist, resist, resist. I should have swiped black war paint underneath my eyes, or at the very least strapped a dagger to my thigh.
As promised, the drive is hilariously short. We pull out of our driveway, head down past five houses, and then hand off the keys of our SUV to
a valet driver so we can be ushered up the front steps of the hotel toward a huge set of double doors. A uniformed man opens them just as we arrive at the top step, and mugs of spiced cider rest on the polished silver tray he holds outstretched for us. Little candy canes and cinnamon sticks adorn each one.
The place is absolutely packed.
There are people in full ball gowns. Others in jeans and intentionally distressed sweaters. A man sits at a piano playing Christmas carols as a large group gathers around him, singing along.
“I would have arrived earlier if I knew there would be this many people,” my sister says, sounding worried. “I’ll barely get a moment alone to chat with anyone.”
She’s worried about making a name for herself in the social scene, and I’m worried about procuring an alcoholic beverage. The spiced cider is virgin, and that just won’t cut it.
James chats with the host at the restaurant, and he tells us our table isn’t quite ready yet. I inform everyone I’ll be at the bar and beeline over like it’s the answer to all of my problems.
There’s a wait, but I don’t mind. I find an empty barstool and slide up onto it, perusing a cocktail list filled with festive offerings like Mistletoe Martinis and Santa Spritzes.
“Mind if I glance over that when you’re done?” the man to my left asks.
I look up and catch him smiling at me, pointing down to the cocktail list.
“Oh, sure. You can have it.”
I pass it over, and his smile widens. He’s handsome with thick brown hair and dark eyes. Older, but not too much. “Did you settle on something?”
“The White Christmas Sangria sounds good. Not too sweet, but still on theme for the night.”
He nods and flags down a passing bartender. “Could you get us two sangrias please?”
I lean in toward him, shaking my head. “You didn’t have to do that, really. I’m happy to get my own drink.”
He shrugs and turns halfway to face me. “No worries. It’s Christmas Eve—I’m feeling generous.”
I smile and thank him, and then I wonder what we’re supposed to do now. Talk? Yes, I remind myself. Talk. He’s handsome, and I’m single. This is what I’m supposed to be doing. All those nights lying awake, knowing Aiden was in New York City, out with his friends, picking up girls, forgetting about me…
Nothing has changed just because we’re together again for one week. In a few days, he’ll be back in New York and I’ll be right back where I was, hopelessly trying to move on from him.
“Are you from Vail?” I ask with a timid smile.
“Boulder, actually. We’re just here for the holidays.”
“We?”
“My family. Parents and siblings. They’re staying at my house here.”
“Fun. My sister has a place here too, but I’m actually from Austin.”
He nods. “Cool. I’m there a lot for work.”
“Oh yeah? It’s probably a nice change of pace in wintertime. No snow down there.”
He laughs. “Definitely no snow. Last time I went, I think it was still close to 90 degrees in November.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Maddie?”
I turn to see my sister holding Ford on her hip, glancing between me and my new friend. “Our table is ready.”
“Oh, okay.” I look back to the guy, realizing we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. “Sorry. I’m Maddie, by the way.”
“Nate,” he says, accepting my outstretched hand.
“Nate Giddings?” my sister chimes in.
He doesn’t look all that surprised that she apparently recognizes him.
“Sorry, I’m Maddie’s sister. Jolie Robertson. We’re neighbors.”
He thinks it over for a second then nods as if putting two and two together. “Oh right. You guys just bought a few months ago on Meadow Drive, right? The house to my left?”
“Yes!” She beams. “I’ve tried to stop by to introduce myself a few times, but your security is pretty tight.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry. It’s a little overkill.”
I slide off my barstool, prepared to follow Jolie to our table, but it doesn’t seem like she’s in a hurry to leave Nate.
“I can’t believe I finally managed to meet you. I wish my husband were here.” She looks back to see if she can flag James down, but he’s not in our line of sight.
“Tell you what, when they deliver our drinks, I’ll come by your table so I can meet him,” he says before catching my eye and smiling.
I smile back in thanks, feeling bad that he has to go out of his way like that.
“Wonderful. They have us out on the terrace,” she says, pointing in the direction of where we’re headed.
He nods and I offer a small wave before following after Jolie. The moment we’re out of earshot, she looks at me with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.
“Do you have any idea who that is?!”
“Uhhh…your neighbor, I guess?”
“Our neighbor?!” She sounds exasperated with me. “Sure, yes, but he’s also the man who founded Giddings Biosciences. The tech company!”
Okay sure, I’ve heard of it. There’s a branch in Austin.
Still, I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.
She grips my arm with her free hand. “Maddie, you might as well have just been sitting by Bill Gates or Michael Dell. You realize that, don’t you?”
I shrug, not really all that impressed. “He seemed really normal.”
She rolls her eyes and curses under her breath. “Only you would say Nate Giddings is normal.”
The guys are sitting at our table when we arrive, glancing over the menu. James takes Ford from Jolie so he can buckle him into a highchair, and she wastes no time filling him in on the development.
“You will never guess who Maddie was just talking to at the bar.”
Before he can guess, she spills the beans.
“Nate Giddings!”
James rears back in shock. “Nate Giddings the tech mogul?”
Jolie’s practically brimming over with excitement. “Yes! He’s going to come by to give Maddie the drink he bought for her and introduce himself.”
She sits down and fluffs her hair before straightening her dress. She urges me to do the same. I don’t.
I glance up at Aiden to see him looking back toward the bar.
“I thought Maddie was dating Brent?” James points out.
“Not anymore!” Jolie hisses.
“What does it matter who Maddie is dating?” Aiden points out.
“Because Nate Giddings was just flirting with her!”
A second later, the terrace door opens and Nate steps out with our drinks in hand. I watch him head over, appreciating his good looks and not so much caring that he’s apparently a famous rich person. I take the time to glance over his outfit. Not at all what a tech mogul ought to be wearing, I think: a black button-down rolled up to his elbows and dark jeans. He looks relaxed and down to earth. Maybe they have him confused with someone else?
James sees Nate and scoots back from the table to stand at attention like he’s watching the queen of England approach. Jolie does the same, so then I feel awkward, as if I have to stand too. Aiden is the only one still sitting by the time Nate reaches our table.
Nate comes to me first, holding out a glass of sangria.
“Thanks for bringing my drink out,” I say with a smile. “You really didn’t have to.”
He shrugs and responds quietly, so that I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who hears. “Couldn’t pass up the chance.”
He offers me a small wink before James rounds the table and extends his hand to him. “Nate, so good to meet you. I’m James Robertson.”
Nate turns to find James’ hand thrust right at his chest.
I feel secondhand embarrassment for him. He and Jolie really need to cool it.
“Nice to meet you,” Nate says politely, right before Jolie presses slightly in front of James so
she can talk to Nate.
“James and I really admire what you’ve done with your property. It’s the biggest lot on Meadow Drive, isn’t it? Rumor has it you bought up three adjacent houses to combine them into one private residence.”
Nate blushes—BLUSHES!—before confirming that he did slowly acquire the properties around his main residence.
“I find it’s better for privacy.”
Jolie nods in understanding. “Of course. I can’t imagine what it’s like to live in the public eye like you do.”
There’s a slight pause in conversation, and I utilize it to throw Nate a lifeline.
“Well, I’m sure Nate needs to get back to his family now,” I say.
He laughs and nods. “Yeah, they’re probably wondering where I went. I was only supposed to grab a quick drink at the bar, and then I got distracted.”
His words allude to him sitting down beside me and striking up a conversation. I distracted him.
Now I’m the one blushing as he asks if I’ll walk him back to his table.
I say yes, of course. After how nice he’s been, it’s the least I can do.
I waste no time in apologizing for my family’s behavior as we walk away together.
“I know they can be a little much.”
“It’s all right,” he assures me as we head toward the terrace doors. “They seem really nice, though I didn’t get the chance to meet the guy sitting down. Is he a relative of yours too?”
“Oh, that’s…”
My sentence falters as I try to wrap my head around how to answer that question.
I go for the simplest explanation. “That’s James’ brother, Aiden.”
He smiles wider. “Oh good. I wasn’t sure if he and you were…”
“No,” I rush out with an adamant shake of my head. “No, we aren’t…anything.”
He stops us when we’re inside the terrace doors, tucked into a secluded alcove of the restaurant. “I know it’s Christmas Eve, and I’m supposed to be with my family and you’re eating with yours, but here, let me give you my card at least.”
“How romantic,” I tease as he tugs his wallet out of his back pocket and procures a business card for me to take.
“It’s not exactly a red rose or anything, but my options are limited.”