Grayson - A Scrooged Christmas

by Regina Frame

  "If you keep scrubbing the counter like that, you're going to scrub the paint off and then Morgan will really be pissed."

  A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I turned to face Missy.

  "If I don't find a way to make some extra money, I'm going to get kicked out of my apartment, and as much as I love my parents, I don't want to have to move back in there."

  Missy's chin dropped, and her mouth opened in surprise.

  "That sucks. I wish I could help, but I'm barely earning enough to make my car payment. And I still live at home with my parents," she admitted.

  "I'm a pathetic twenty-five-year-old." I forced out a laugh, when what I wanted to do was cry. "I applied a few months back with a temp agency, but I haven't heard anything from them. I was really hoping for that little ray of light, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen."

  I tossed the rag that I'd been wiping the counter with in the bin with the dirty laundry and grabbed my purse from my locker in the back. I guess Missy felt bad for me, because she wrapped me in a hug before we walked out the back door and locked up for the night.

  That's great. I'm a loser in her eyes too.

  Thirty minutes later, I parked my 1985 Honda in my designated spot in front of my apartment building. I would have been there fifteen minutes earlier, but if I didn’t let my car warm up, it sputtered and died on me. As I climbed the stairs to the second floor, I could see the pink paper pinned to my door. Shit! My stomach rolled into a painful knot as I pulled the eviction warning from my door. I had exactly one week to come up with two months worth of rent money. I tossed the paper, along with my purse and keys, on to the counter.

  I felt so defeated and worthless. My eyes roamed around the small one-bedroom apartment with the used furniture from goodwill, and tears began to fill my eyes and stream down my cheeks. It might not be much to some, but, to me, it was everything. At least I had tomorrow off from the coffee shop. I'd get up early and hit the mall to see if any of the stores were hiring for the holidays. If I was lucky, I'd be able to earn enough to get my rent caught up. I could bake cookies for Christmas gifts, if I had to. Everybody liked cookies. After eating a sandwich for dinner, I showered and crawled into bed early. I wanted to feel refreshed when I pounded the pavement the next day.

  ***

  At 6:00 a.m., my phone woke me from the best dream of my life. Dark haired suit guy had stripped me naked, and we were just getting to the good part when my phone rang. Rang. Shit! It wasn't the alarm. It was someone calling. I grabbed my phone, and groaned when I saw Morgan's name on the screen.

  "Good morning, Morgan."

  "Aubree, I know this is your day off, but I'm going to have to ask you to come in. Missy called in sick today." I picked up my spare pillow and threw it against the wall. "John is working, but you know he's still new. It would really help me out if you'd come in." He was practically begging now. I guess I had no choice. I sure didn't need to lose my job, and I needed the money.

  "What time do you need me there?"

  I could hear him take a deep breath on the other end, right before he said, “Open.”

  Open meant 8:00 a.m. I had exactly one hour to shower and get to work, and I had to somehow allow fifteen fucking minutes for my Honda to warm up. Damn.

  ***

  As I walked up the sidewalk, I could see John standing out in front of the shop with his hands shoved in his pockets. What the hell?

  "Why aren't you inside? You could be putting the pastries in the case."

  "Morgan's not here yet, and I don't have a key."

  Just my luck. Morgan not only suckered me into working for Missy, but he also knew he was going to be late, if he came in at all. I unlocked the door, and began explaining the opening process to John. The first thing I did was show him where the music panel was in Morgan’s office. Now that we were officially in the Christmas season, Morgan wanted Christmas music playing throughout the store from the time we opened until we closed at the end of the day.

  I had to practically lead John around by the ear all day and show him how to do everything. We were so busy, and my feet were killing me. It was 6:00 in the evening, and I was getting ready to lock the door when the door chimed, signaling a new customer. For the love of God. I just wanted to go home.

  I stepped up to the counter, and came face to face with suit guy. His baby blues met mine, and I could feel my whole body flush with heat. The air thickened around us. It felt like a sauna in here. His lip curled upward, and just like that, the steady pulse was back at my core. I was speechless. My voice caught in my throat, because all I was capable of at the moment was wondering what it would feel like to run my fingers through his silky hair. Were his lips as soft as they looked?

  "A large, black coffee."

  God. His voice was even sexy. It floated through the air like a heavenly serenade. Suddenly, the half empty tip jar came into view and snapped me out of my lust filled daydream.

  "Wouldn't you like to try one of our signature holiday flavors?” I forced a smile before continuing my pre-rehearsed speech. “We have peppermint . . ."

  Before I could say anything else, he finished for me.

  "Yes. I know. You also have pumpkin spice.” The big jerk had the nerve to wink. “Like I said, I'll have a large, black coffee." He pinned me with baby blues, and all I could think about at the moment was being evicted from my apartment because of people like him. I pulled a large cup from the rack and reached into my apron for my black sharpie. Before I could ask his name, he said, "Grayson." I scribbled across the cup, poured his coffee, and then sat it on the counter in front of him. "I believe that is $6.00. Correct?"

  "Oh no. Not this time.” He looked up at me in surprise. “It's on me." I was feeling pretty proud of myself at the moment. Then I heard John gasp behind me. “Consider it your first gift of the season.” I gave suit guy my best smile.

  His lips drew into a tight line, and I noticed a tiny little pulse in his jaw. The look on his face led me to believe he wanted to respond, but didn’t. Instead, he lay the $6.00 on the counter before he turned and walked out the door. All the breath left my lungs at once. I was finally able to breathe.

  "Can't you get fired for that?" John asked. I couldn't hold back the smile.

  "It would be so worth it." His brows pinched in confusion. "I didn't write his name on the cup. I wrote Scrooge."

  John gasped in disbelief, but, at the moment, I didn’t care. It was just a matter of time before I’d be living in my car and bathing in gas station restrooms.

  ***

  I climbed the stairs to the second floor, and couldn’t help but wonder how many more times I’d be able to call the little place home. I tossed my purse and keys on the counter, on top of the pink eviction warning, and headed for the shower. For some reason, I felt extra dirty today. I stood under the hot spray, closed my eyes, hoping the sting of the hot water would wash away the feeling of failure and desperation. It wasn’t long before the tears came. I dropped to the shower floor and pulled my knees close, wrapping my arms around them, and cried. I came to terms that I was a failure. My parents tried to get me to live at home and go to college, but I wanted to be on my own. I wanted to prove to them that I could make it on my own, but that was not how things had turned out. I had to quit school in order to work more hours so that I could keep my apartment, and from the looks of things now, I couldn’t even do that. I just had to admit it. I was a loser. I sat there until the water ran cold and there were no more tears to cry.

  The moment I shut the water off, I could hear my cell ringing from the kitchen counter where I’d tossed it when I came in. I let it go to voicemail. It was probably Morgan calling to tell me that Missy was still sick and wouldn’t be in tomorrow. That would be just my luck. I took my time brushing my teeth and combing through my wet hair, before pulling my oversized tee shirt over my head. I padded down the hall, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and scooped my cell off the kitchen counter. The little message light blinked on m
y phone. It was as if it wanted to torment me, too. I swiped my finger over the voicemail feature and put it on speaker.

  “Ms. Layne, this is Tabatha with Win Temp Agency. If you get this message within the next fifteen minutes, please give me a call at 555-2432. We’ve had a position open up that we feel you’d be a good fit for.”

  I checked the time on my phone. It was already 7:00 p.m. Shit. I pressed the call button and prayed to anyone who was listening that someone would answer. I was just about to give up when someone answered.

  “Win Temp Agency. This is Tabatha.”

  “Tabatha, this is Aubree Layne. I’m returning your call about a possible position that has just opened up.”

  I crossed my fingers while I listened intently to what she had to say. The position was for some hot shot at the Decker building, which just happened to be close to the coffee shop. When I disconnected the call, I danced around the room like someone in Zumba class. I may have even screamed a few times until it hit me that I was scheduled to open at the coffee shop tomorrow morning. Damn.

  I didn’t even have to think about it. I pressed Morgan’s name on the screen and left him a message that I was unable to come in tomorrow. I’d never once called in for anything. It was about time something good happened for me, and I wasn’t about to let the position slip through my fingers even if it was temporary.

  GRAYSON

  I tossed my keys to the valet before entering Club Jameson. It was a high-priced club that required a membership, and was owned by one of my clients, Jameson Tate. He'd made a fortune with his talent agency, and through investments with my company, he was able to open Club Jameson, which was known across the nation as one of the hottest party spots in New York.

  The smell of liquor and cigar smoke was strong as I stepped inside, only to be greeted by a very sexy redhead wearing a tight, curve-hugging dress. She had big brown eyes, and enough mascara to make her eyelashes look like spiders. I reached for the drink and took it from her tray while letting my eyes feast on those luscious curves. Maybe if I went about the night as usual, this odd feeling would go away. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it. I felt off my game, and I didn't understand why, unless it had something to do with the beautiful brunette at the coffee shop. Aubree.

  “Good evening, Mr. Decker.”

  “Good evening, Rose. Busy night?”

  “You know, the usual clients, but the top floor is closed off for some celebrity’s birthday party.” She looked around the room as if to make sure Jameson wasn’t around to hear. “I’m glad I wasn’t asked to work up there tonight. The tips are good, but celebrities are always so demanding. I’ll take this environment over that one any night.” She laughed. “If you’re looking for Jameson, he’s in the corner over there.” She cocked her head to the side. She knew me well enough to know that I always searched out Jameson when I first arrived.

  “I’ll catch you later, Rose.” I grinned and gave her a wink.

  Her ruby red lips formed a sexy little pout. Any other time, I’d think about those lips wrapped around my cock, but even that wasn’t helping. I made my way across the room where I found Jameson flirting with two blondes. A look of surprise came across his face as I stopped in front of him.

  "Grayson, my man," he said, reaching out to shake my hand with a smirk on his face. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show."

  “Work ran a little long today. You know how it is. I bought an airline yesterday and a small country today. Paperwork can be hell sometimes!” I tipped the glass to my lips and took a healthy swallow. “Who knows what I’ll buy tomorrow.”

  Jameson threw his head back and laughed, while the two blonde beauties standing on either side of him just smiled.

  That was the reason I never passed up a Friday night at his club. He had a lot of connections, and it always meant that a lot of beautiful women would be in attendance. That night was no different. It had been two weeks since I had sex with anyone, and it was beginning to get the best of me. Maybe that was why I felt so off, because jacking myself off just wasn’t the same. That had got to be it. I just needed to bury myself balls deep in a warm pussy for a couple of hours and I’d be back to my old self.

  I let my gaze travel the length of the blonde with long legs standing to his left. She had big, blue eyes that sparkled in the light, and her silky blonde hair fell in layers around her face. She was really quite beautiful. My cock was getting harder by the minute. Maybe this was what I needed after all.

  "Who are these lovely ladies?"

  I almost laughed out loud when the smile slid from Jameson's face. He didn’t like anyone stepping in and interfering with his plans. Especially if they were cock blocking him, and that was exactly what I was doing. I was sure he was planning a threesome for later, and blondes seemed to be his preference in women. I threw him a smirk of my own and turned my attention to the lovely ladies.

  "This is Hannah…” he began, motioning to his left, “and this is Gloria," he said with his mouth pressed into a tight line. He was pissed, but I didn’t care. After all, I was sure it wouldn't take him long to find someone else. Women followed him around like lost puppies.

  I turned my attention to Gloria and politely introduced myself. Then I moved on to Hannah, who had had my attention since I spotted her from across the room. Even when I took a step toward her to close the space, she didn’t step back. I was interested, and so was she. I flashed a wide smile and introduced myself while my gaze stopped at her perky, full breasts; her nipples pebbled against the silky fabric of her dress. It was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra, which meant tits that perfect weren't real. They were surgically enhanced.

  "Can I get you a drink?" I asked, nudging her toward the bar with my hand just above her hip. She had model like features, and I imagined that was probably her profession. If it wasn’t, it should have been, because she would make a fortune at it. My dick throbbed and my balls began to ache. All I could think about was having those long legs wrapped around me while I pounded into her, over and over. We needed to find a more private area, and soon.

  She leaned in close and rested her small hand against my chest, her full lips forming the perfect bow. Her voice was silky smooth when she finally spoke.

  "I would love a drink." Her warm breath fanned against my ear and down my neck, causing my dick to twitch.

  I motioned to the bartender and ordered our drinks before leaning in close so she could hear over the noise around us and asked, "So, Hannah, how do you know Jameson?"

  My friend was known for his club parties for friends and wealthy clients, but I had never seen her before.

  "Well, I met Jameson through a friend who was having some legal issues with a contract. I think she went out with him a couple of times." She paused a moment and bit her bottom lip. "Anyway, he invited her and told her to bring a friend. That’s how I ended up here tonight.”

  Slowly, she trailed her fingers up my arm, but she might as well have grabbed my cock considering the effect her touch had on me. “Do you model?” Her eyes flew to mine, and a laugh escaped her plump red lips.

  “My mom wishes.” She lightly laughed. “I do porn for now.”

  Those five little words was like letting all the air out of a balloon. My stomach dropped, my dick went limp, and my balls were screaming, what the hell? I needed to get out of there now, and not a second later. I couldn’t risk being seen or, god forbid, photographed with a porn star. I looked around the room for Jameson, but he was nowhere in sight. I guess he found his other willing participant. It was probably for the best, because the next time I saw him, I was kicking his ass! Did he have a clue that she did porn? Did he care? I had nothing against those who did porn. I watched it myself from time to time, but there was a certain stigma attached to people who did it, and I didn't need that attached to me. It could ruin my business.

  "What about you? Do you come here often?" she asked. Her brows dipped in confusion, because I’d already began to pull away.

 
“I’m sorry, Hannah.” At least I remembered her name. “I need to go back to the office for a bit. There’s a report I forgot to print for an early meeting tomorrow,” I lied. It was such a lame excuse, but, at the moment, it was the best I could come up with, because alarm bells were going off in my head.

  “Oh.” Her chin dipped, and she stared at her shoes. Shit.

  “Look. I’m sorry. Maybe I can catch up with you next time.” Her eyes met mine and held for several long seconds before she spoke. “Of course. You know, you could always request me.”

  “Forgive me, but I’m not sure what you mean by request you.” In the back of my mind, I was thinking no way in hell was I going into that territory.

  “Jameson is having a Jingle Bell Ball this year for the holidays. I’m going to be one of the Jingle Bells.” She smiled proudly.

  “I’ll get with Jameson,” I mumbled as I turned and made my escape.

  Even if she wasn’t into porn, if the word holiday or Christmas was attached to the invitation, my RSVP would be no! The only place I’d never been able to get away with that answer was with my parents. Once a year, I was forced to endure a couple of hours of pure hell.

  AUBREE

  I stood outside the Decker building and looked upward as far as the eye could see. I guess I’d never really thought about it, the fact that I couldn’t see the top floor, until now. Now that I would be working on the one hundred and twenty-fifth floor.

  I was deathly afraid of heights. I wanted to be cheerleader when I was in school, but was too afraid to tryout because I didn’t want to be on the top of that pyramid or tossed into the air. Ten years later, just thinking about it made me sway on my feet.

  Someone bumped against me and snapped me out of my trance. I stepped through the revolving door and out on the other side. My black heels clicked on the marble as I made my way to the elevator.

  After meeting with Tabatha in human resources, we rode the elevator up to the one hundred and twenty-fifth floor and to the office where I’d be working. Luckily, the managerial skills that I learned in community college were enough to help me land this temporary position. I just hated that I had to quit before I finished and earned the course certificate.