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Nick
“Ugh. I hate the holidays,” I grumble as I walk downtown. Walking past all of these smiling faces, stores with their displays flashing in my face, happy tunes blaring in my ears. Annoying is the first word that comes to mind. I know I know. I am used to people calling me strange, weird, grinch. Any name you can come up with to define the constant scowl on my face, I have heard it and I don’t give a fuck. Continuing to walk down the sidewalk, I shake my head at all the couples around me, hugging and kissing, getting swept away by the season. Don’t these dumbasses know it never lasts? You get the season fever and everything around you is great. You’re seeing hearts and stars and feeling gifty and full of love and then the next thing you know, your life crashes down around you and your left. Heartbroken. No thank you. I will pass. I don’t have time for the drama.
I am the CEO of Frost RealEstate. I started the company fresh out of business school, working my ass off day and night. I started by investing in a hotel, on a Caribbean island. I went over there, oversaw the remodel and reopen and made back the money I put in in the first year. After that, I realized I had a talent for this type of business. It became my… thing, so to speak. Ten years later and my portfolio is well into the seven figures and my business is at the top of the pyramid. My mind wanders off as I walk through the park to my condo, thinking about the conversation I just had with my little sister. Grace has always been a little, flighty, of you will. Happy. Smiley. Full of life. She gets that from my grandma. I am almost to the street when a sound that stops me in my tracks. The melody of it sending goosebumps through me. It’s the softest, sweetest sound of laughter I have ever heard. Walking briskly back the way I came; I turn and almost miss her. Laying in the snow, making a snow Angel, is my Angel.
I have never seen this woman before, but I know without a moment's hesitation that this was meant to be. I was meant to be walking through this park at this moment. Especially considering I never walk to and from work. My driver had a family emergency and couldn’t make it and I don’t trust others. Thus, being here at this moment. This obviously preordained moment. I don’t realize I am simply standing in one spot like a moron staring at her until she speaks. “You just going to stand there staring at me or are you going to lay down and make an angel?” I look around, making sure she is talking to me and turn back to her.
“There is no way I am laying in the snow,” I tell her positive my face shows what I am feeling about the thought.
“Those fancy pants will be just fine, mister. Besides, you look like you could use some fun.” I could use some fun alright. Just can’t engage in it outside. Is the first thought I have. “Ok. Well, I guess I have to get you in the spirit of some other kind of way.” Before I can respond I am smacked in the face with a snowball. My body freezes, literally as I stand here and try to wrap my head around what just happened. Ordinarily, if someone else had hit me with a snowball, I would be pissed. Like stark raving mad. But standing here, watching as she throws her head back in laughter, I can do nothing but stare. She is positively radiant. Her hair, black like the night, against her glowing shimmering halo. I can feel my heart thumping through my shirt. Swallowing, I feel my fingers twitch as I talk myself out of touching her. If I touch her now, I will never stop. So, instead, not saying a word, I dip down, grab a handful of snow and smile at my new angel.
“You want to play baby?” I ask her, making the ball firmer and trying to keep my face straight.
“I mean you definitely looked like you needed some playtime.” She cocks her head to the side, cheeks flush from the cold, smile covering her face. It is taking everything I have not to adjust my dick while her eyes are watching me.
“You sure you ready for this? Because once I start, I won't stop.” I try to warn her. Give her an out. I know it just a snowball, but I am taking this as more and she needs to know it.
“That sounds like a promise of something more. But so far, you seem like all talk, Mister.” With her hands on her hips, she issues the challenge and I aim to please. Pulling my hand back, I release the snowball, making sure to miss her face and hit her dead in the chest. She looks down, obviously not really believing I was actually going to throw it, looks back up at me and laughs. “It’s on.” She says before she runs and grabs more snow. Before I know it, we are running around like two kids, hitting one another with snowballs and laughing more than I have laughed in over 10 years. On the final launch, I dive to miss her toss and fall face-first into the snow. I just barely roll over when she falls on top of me, smashing snow into my face. Her infectious laugh, making what just happened more than beautiful.
