by Lindsey Hart
Callie couldn’t keep a straight face. She laughed a second later and she knew it was over. Chantara won. Her best friend usually got her way. The temptation of food was a little too much to resist. And the fact that Matt Hilbert would be there, probably in a full-on suit. God, suits were attractive. He wasn’t for her though. She wasn’t into guys who dined and dashed. In truth, she hadn’t been into anyone for a really long time.
Even if the Christmas party was horrible, she didn’t have anything better to do or any place better to be. She hadn’t gone home for Christmas in years either. Her previous job was too hectic for her to do so. So, with the party, it might actually be the one time she actually got out and did something for Christmas.
Maybe it would help get her through it.
“I still don’t really have anything to wear. This thing is going to be fancy.”
Chantara shot her one of those mischievous, twinkling eyes, I have a solution for everything, kind of looks. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered.” She jumped off the bed with renewed enthusiasm, grabbed Callie by the elbow, and steered her straight for the tiny closet. “I bought a dress last week. I was going to wear it, but it’s actually a little tight. It will look perfect on you.”
Callie knew exactly what dress Chantara was talking about. It was short and black and flirty and far too sexy. A whole lot of not at all Christmas party appropriate. She barely managed to stifle a groan. She already knew they were going to be in trouble. A night out with Chantara usually only ended one way, office Christmas party or not.
CHAPTER 2
Matt
Matthew Hilbert was the first to admit he might enjoy the nightlife a little too much. Or had. Past tense. He was really trying to get his shit together. He didn’t like that he was starting to get a reputation. Truly. He took it to heart. He really did care about what people thought. He just- always seemed to find himself in the worst kind of situations. Which might have been because he chose to put himself in them in the first place.
He was cutting himself off. No more dates, no more parties, no more going out with friends when he knew where it would end up. He was thirty-three. He was starting to feel like he was way too old for that shit. And the drama. Lord, the drama. He knew it was bad when he had to get his PA to screen calls.
Beer with his long-time friend didn’t exactly count. They hadn’t even gone out. He’d gone to Jason’s pad to break the news.
“So, you’re really getting serious then?” Jason cracked the top off a beer and passed the chilled bottle over. Beads of condensation dripped on the kitchen floor.
“Yeah. No. I don’t know. Not about anyone. I’m just over it. I had to ask my secretary to start screening my calls and emails. It was humiliating.”
“That’s because you attract the wrong kind of people.”
“It’s not like I try.”
“Look at you, man.” Jason chugged back half his bottle and set it down on the counter. The kitchen wasn’t clean by any means, but he didn’t move to tackle the dishes in the sink. They would probably be there for another week before the guy did anything about them. The countertop wasn’t much better. It was scattered with old food wrappers and half-empty bread bag left open, the bread dotted with blue on top. Dirty dishes lined that surface too. “You’re too well dressed. That’s your problem. People know how to spot it.”
“That is not the issue.”
“Then grow your beard and hair out. Women hate beards. Gain some weight. Stop going to the gym. Wear dirty clothes. That’s a turnoff. And stop driving an expensive car. It’s a dead giveaway that you have money.”
“Stop.”
“Well, seriously. If you wear and have nice things, people are going to home in on that right away. You seem to be attracted to- uh- not the right sort of person either. I know you’re tired of the endless phone calls from people who said they wanted one-night stands. I know that you’re sick of being hosed for money and taken advantage of, but you bring it on yourself. You attract that by not going for the right type of person. Women who look like the ones you usually date- they generally just want one thing. To be taken care of. Even if they’re nice, you wonder why even after you break up with them, you still get calls for six months about money. That would be why.”
“I was just trying to help…”
“And I’m just saying. You’re too nice. People sense that. They take advantage of it. You have to stop meeting people in clubs and online. That is never going to work out.”
“Where else do you meet anyone?”
“I don’t honestly know.” Jason was avowedly single. He stayed away from drama. Even if they went to the same places, he never had the luck that Matt did.
“I’m just exhausted. I’m tired of thinking I found someone who actually wants to be with me because they want to share their life with someone, or whatever that even means, and I just get- people who steal credit cards. Girls who ask me for things constantly and if I say no, they leave. People who call and call and call with all those sob stories and when I help out, I find out it’s all lies.”
“Like I said. It’s your own fault. You attract the wrong kind of person. You go for the same kind of girl every single time.”
“It doesn’t help that my mom keeps asking me when I’m going to finally settle down and give her grandkids.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Ignore it. Moms always say things like that.”
“I’m serious. She’s been at it for a few years and I can tell she means it. My dad too. When I go over there, I get the same questions every single time. I would ignore it, but it makes me feel like there really is something wrong with me. I used to like just going out and have fun. If that’s all they wanted, I was in. I never used to even think about getting serious. That was like the plague. And then when I actually want it-”
“It’s nothing but a clusterfuck.”
“Right.” Matt finally took a sip of his beer. It wasn’t warm, even though it was overly warm in the house. It was damn well bordering on tropical how high Jason had it in there. Compliments of November in Denver.
“Maybe you’re trying too hard. Just stop.”
“That’s what I came here to say I was doing. I’m done. I don’t care if I spend the rest of my life alone. Seriously, it would be better than how I’ve been doing so far.”
“I agree.”
“That’s because you always wanted to be a bachelor.” Matt drained the rest of his beer. He plopped the empty bottle down on the small amount of bare counter space he could find. “Can I have another?”
Jason nodded towards the fridge. “Help yourself.”
Matt did. He let his friend pass him a bottle opener and he cracked the top on a fresh beer. Normally they’d be watching some game by now or playing pool in the basement or working on Jason’s house, which was a never-ending money pit, but Jason sensed right away that the conversation was going to be serious as soon a Matt walked through the door. He wasted no time in offering beers and his sage advice.
“I might have- wanted to avoid all the shit that everyone else wades through, but- hey… that’s what I’ve always wanted and it’s not going to change given that I’m older or how much my parents bemoan the fact I’m never going to give them a grandkid. They think there is something morally flawed with me. If there is, I blame them. They raised me after all.”
“I’m sure your mom appreciated you telling her that.”
Jason grinned. “I’m not that dumb. I would never say that to her. I was kidding. They raised me fine. I just see all the shit everyone else goes through- I’ve seen what you’ve been through, and I just don’t want any part of that.”
“It can’t all be bad, can it?”
“I think it can. For you, at any rate. I’ve been lucky enough to find people that just want to keep things casual and they respect the boundaries. I think I find the good ones because they realize I have no extra money to give them. I’m not a nice person either. I don’t do anything to help, so t
hey don’t expect it in the future.”
“That’s a lie. You’d give your left nut for me.”
Jason raised a brow. “Would I? You seem pretty confident about that. I think I’d like to keep my nuts, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, well- anyway. I’m done. I’m taking a break. No more anything for a while.”
“Your life sounds like it’s going to be really damn boring from here on out.”
“It might be, but it can’t be worse than what it’s been.”
“Wholly agreed on that front.”
“I can count on you to keep me entertained, can’t I? You always seem to have a limitless amount of things to do that don’t involve going out.”
“No. I just prefer to skip out on the things I don’t like to do. Plays and ballets and shopping and musicals and whatever else. Nope. Hell no. I never signed on for that. I’m not about faking it until I make it. I don’t want to make whatever it is that is at the end of that shit road. You’re better off getting rid of that nice house of yours and buying a fixer-upper. Believe me, they take all your time one way or another. Between fixing them up and working to pay to fix them up, it eats up all your spare minutes.”
“I might just have to do that.”
“Or get a dog. Or both.” Jason shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just can’t imagine you not going out anymore. Not doing all that shit that I hate so much.”
“It wasn’t that bad-”
“No? It sure sounds like it was a blast according to what you’re telling me right now. I warned you about that. I told you never to get involved with online shit. I told you to just stop with the dating and the looking and the drama and trying to please people you’ll never be able to please because they only want one thing and it isn’t what you want to give.”
“Yeah, yeah, so you were right. I’m off of it now. I just- I don’t know… maybe you’re right. I need a project. Or two.”
“Hobbies, my man. They’re called hobbies.” Jason clapped him on the shoulder. “Now grab another beer and we can start laying that floor in the basement. You can tell me all about how you’re going to pass your time now that you’re a bachelor too.”
“I didn’t say that exactly.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “I know. But I’m going to help you stick to your guns here. Maybe when you learn how to be by yourself, you can attract the right kind of person. Put something good out, get something good, hmm? Makes sense?”
Matt wanted to tell his best friend where to put it, but the hard thing was, he couldn’t really argue with the guy’s logic. He hadn’t been putting out the right energy or even the right intention. It wasn’t a wonder that he felt played, cheated, and used. He tried to treat people fairly and thought it wasn’t right when his life ended up turning out like a shit pile, but maybe the guy was right. Jason was definitely right about the kind of people Matt dated. He could see that now. He really did attract the same kind of woman every single time. He couldn’t be surprised when the results were always the same. There was the whole common denominator as well. Himself. He knew already he needed to work on that before Matt so blatantly pointed it out. Which was why he was done. As in zero.
He just had to get the office Christmas party out of the way, but that didn’t truly count. It was shaping up to be as boring as all the other years had been. Definitely not nightlife, that was for sure. As soon as that was out of the way and the busy season at work was over and he could actually relax, he’d find some hobbies.
It was just unfortunate that he had no idea where to start.
CHAPTER 3
Callie
The hotel where the Christmas party was being hosted was of course, huge. It was one of those fancy hotels, the kind that has never-ending banquet rooms, real marble floors, and huge chandeliers. The lobby had a damn fountain in it.
“Ugh, I told you we shouldn’t have come,” Callie whispered under her breath just as the speeches were getting underway. She could smell the food that was being set out in the back by the catering staff and her stomach literally groaned. She glanced around, hoping like hell no one heard the noise.
Chantara leaned closer. She did her best to cover a smile as she whispered under her breath. “Okay, sorry, I never said it wasn’t going to be boring. I said that you should come and save me from having to endure it alone.”
“How am I supposed to save you?” Callie hissed. “I can’t believe we spent the entire day getting ready for this.”
“Well, you look good.” Chantara smiled maddeningly. “The speeches will be done in a few minutes. Just wait.”
Nearly an hour later, Callie was still waiting. She was still waiting, and she was still starving. “It’s never-ending,” she whined in Chantara’s ear.
Her best friend nodded silently. “I know,” she whispered back. “It’s bad this year. Last year wasn’t nearly this long.”
“I can smell the food. God, I think I’m going to pass out from it. I should have packed a damn snack in this stupid little clutch.”
“The only thing you could pack in that tiny thing is like- astronaut food. Freeze-dried turkey or something.”
“Ewww!” Callie wrinkled her nose.
“Oh look! Matt Hilbert just won an award. Too bad you just started working as his PA. If it had been longer, he might have mentioned you in his speech.” Chantara grinned devilishly.
Callie took a covert peek at the other six people seated around their table to see if anyone had heard or noticed that they weren’t really even paying attention to the program. Everyone else seemed lost in their own world or completely absorbed in what was happening at the front.
“Don’t,” Callie warned under her breath. “Don’t talk about Matt Hilbert.”
“Why not? You think he’s hot, don’t you? He looks nice in that suit. All black. Black shirt and black jacket. Black tie. Good choice. I’m not a fan of white. It looks like people are going to a wedding when they’re dressed like that.”
“I don’t think he’s hot,” Callie hissed. “Seriously. I don’t. I think he’s the kind of guy who thinks he’s hot.”
“Not even a little? Come on. Let’s sit here and judge him while he does his speech. There isn’t much else to do.”
“Judge him?” Callie barely suppressed a giggle.
“Yup. Judge him.” Chantara bent her head in so far that some of the pins from her updo nearly stabbed Callie in the side of the face.
“Like, how? He won an award. I don’t think there’s much to judge. He’s dressed nice. He has the body of a god. He’s tall with those crazy broad shoulders and he looks like he works out every day all day and drinks protein shakes for every single meal. He has what people would call chiseled features. He has a strong jawline, a face that is both way too pretty and far too masculine at the same time. And he’s blonde. What the heck could we possibly judge?”
Chantara blinked hard and Callie realized way too late that she’d just given herself away. Big time. “Right… and you don’t find all that perfection and chiseledness attractive?”
Callie fought to regain her equilibrium. Another quick glance told her everyone at the table was still oblivious to the fact that they were sitting there not paying attention to the program at all. Maybe they can’t concentrate on anything because they are slowly dying of hunger. Maybe they’re being eaten away from the inside out just like I am. The painful fist in her stomach kept on getting tighter and tighter with every passing moment.
“I don’t,” she finally whispered back. “Because we work together so first of all, that is completely out of line and off-limits. Secondly, I told you, he’s not my type.”
“Matt Hilbert is everyone’s type. Not mine either though. Like I said, I like them way- uh- rougher around the edges.”
“Yeah. I know that. And I’m serious about what I said. I’m not interested in Matt Hilbert. Even if he is attractive, that means nothing. Sometimes people’s personalities come through and make them unattractive because seriousl
y, deep down, under those fine, flawless layers, they are.”
“Yeah, yeah, the whole inner beauty or inner ugliness thing. I get it.” Chantara indicated the front eagerly. “Listen, it’s over! Jack Bron is coming up to announce dinner! He always comes up every single year to give the instructions. Hallefuckinglujah.”
Callie couldn’t agree more. Their table had to wait another twenty minutes while the instructions were given, and other tables were allowed to go before them. By the time they got to line up, she was just about at the point where she could have eaten the dinner plate and probably the knife and fork too, maybe the napkins as well.
Chantara stood in line right behind Callie. She decided to be a good bestie and passed over an extra plate and napkin. She turned to hand them over and as she did, she must have blinked funny, because her contact popped right out.
“Oh my god!” Callie nearly wailed. “Chantara! I just lost my contact!”
“What? Which one?”
“Does that matter at the moment? We’re not going to find it and even if we do, I wouldn’t stick it back in my eyes. We’re just about to eat and now I’m not even going to be able to see what we’re eating.”
“Oh my god. Okay. Stay calm.” Chantara’s hand closed around Callie’s elbow. “We’ll just go back to the table and get your glasses. Take the other contact out and you’re good, right?”
“No! I completely forgot to bring them.”
“What?”
“I only brought that stupid little clutch and it just has my money and phone and ID card.”
“Okay, okay.” Chantara’s hand tightened. “Don’t worry.” She stepped in front of Callie and pulled her behind her.
“I can’t keep just one in. I’m going to get sick to my stomach. I feel completely dizzy already just looking around like this. One eye, I can see nothing out of but blur and blobs and the other is completely in focus.”