Ruby watched the mystery man head back toward the Winter Market. She exhaled. She knew that she could be annoying. She hyperfixated on the things she loved, and she wasn’t always great at noticing when she needed to chill about her passions. Or needed to stop talking.
Ah, but it didn’t matter. So, what if this bah-humbug guy was immune to holiday cheer. He’d helped her a lot by bringing her tree home. And he even said happy birthday—the first in-person “happy birthday” she’d had this year.
Ruby wasn’t going to let a run-in with a surly grump get in the way of enjoying every single moment of this season.
“DO YOU THINK I’Mannoying?” Ruby asked while laying out neat rows of shortbread on a holly-printed plate. She hadn’t been able to get that run-in with the tree-carrying guy out of her mind since he’d said happy birthday to her yesterday. “Like, do I take this Christmas stuff too far?”
“There is no such thing astoo far,” her friend Shayne said. He was hanging clear glass ornaments on the Colorado spruce. “The only people annoyed about Christmas are stick-in-the-muds, and we do not concern ourselves with their opinions. Holidays exist to be celebrated.”
Exactly. Ruby was not taking the festivities too far—the shortbread wasn’t even homemade. True, she’d made the gingerbread men and the individual Christmas puddings herself—but that was because she wanted her tiny apartment to be filled with her favorite scents for her birthday celebration: honey, cloves, ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg, all mingling with the scent of her spruce Christmas tree.
“Who said you’re annoying?” asked Ruby’s cousin Marley,who was helping Shayne with the tree. Marley was a personal stylist and Shayne was a photographer, and they had a better eye for space and design than Ruby, so she’d assigned them to tree duty when they’d arrived at her party.
“No one said I was annoying,” Ruby said. Which was technically true—the lumberjack dude hadn’t actually called her annoying. He’d certainly implied it, though. “This guy helped me carry my tree yesterday, and he was obviously irritated about howenthusiasticI was about the season.”
“Ridiculous,” Shayne said, shaking his head. “Openlylikinganything is considered selling out these days. We are surrounded by capitalism and consumerism, but people look down at anyone who deigns to enjoy any of it. Not everyone singing ‘Last Christmas’ is buying in to the capitalist Kool-Aid—you bought these ornaments from a thrift store, and this sweater is from Poshmark.” Shayne’s sweater had a vintage-style image of Santa drinking a whisky by the fire on it. As always, he looked fabulous.
“So’s this dress,” Ruby added. It was a vintage Badgley Mischka, and she’d squealed when she saw it on the designer resale site last month. The impeccably fitting red dress was going to be her signature look for the holidays this year.
“Why do you think this guy got under your skin? That’s not like you,” asked Shayne’s partner, Anderson, who was helping Ruby plate food at the coffee table. He was one of the most perceptive people Ruby had ever met—probably because of his job. He was also the quietest person in the friend group, which was ironic because he was one of four hosts on a daytime talk show—one of those shows where the hosts all talk over eachother to get a word in. He had the nickname Oprah in their friend chat group, despite being a small Taiwanese Canadian man.
Ruby popped a small slice of fruitcake with marzipan into her mouth before answering. The sweet and spicy flavor punctuated with the creamy nuttiness of the marzipan reminded her that there was nothing wrong with loving this season. “I know. I shouldn’t care what the guy thinks of me.”
Maybe it was because he was Brown and said he didn’t celebrate Christmas… so it unearthed some cultural guilt that Ruby shouldn’t obsess over a Western holiday, either. But that was nonsense. Ruby’s mother had been quite a devout Muslim, but she’d loved Christmas, too. Mom had loved the focus on family and giving, and said that if they were going to make Canada their home, they may as well love the things that Canadians loved. Of course, Mom had gone all out for Eid and other Muslim holidays, too. Mom would have been delighted that her only daughter still loved the Christmas season.
“Was the guy cute?” Shayne asked.
Ruby nodded. “Very. Too young for me, though.”
At that, Shayne beamed at Anderson, who was about five years younger than him. “Nothing wrong with a younger man. So, you were into the guy, but he didn’t feel the same, so your ego took a tiny hit. No shame in that. Put the Scrooge out of your mind. This is a birthday party! Where’s Reena… I can’t wait until you see your present!”
Reena, her husband Nadim, and their baby Aleem were the only ones missing from this party. Marley picked up her phone, presumably to text Reena. “They’re at Nadim’s friend’s place,”she said a few seconds later. “They’re on their way—it’s only five minutes from here.”
Shayne laughed. “They have friends other than us?”
“Shocking, I know,” Marley said. “Apparently she’s one of Nadim’s London friends. Reena said she’s been going through a rough time, so they took the baby to meet her. Babies always cheer people up.”
That was true, but there was another nugget of information there that piqued Ruby’s interest. Nadim had grown up between England and Tanzania, and he still had a lovely British accent. Ruby hadn’t known he had any British friends in Toronto. “His friend fromLondonlives near here?”
Marley laughed, plopping on the small green sofa in front of Ruby’s bed. This apartment was a bachelor—which meant it was pretty much one big room. Actually,bigwas probably overstating it. “Are you going to make the poor woman read Austen to you now?”
Ruby frowned. “No. But considering I’m moving to London in like, six weeks, maybe I should meet her? Get some tips or something?”
“Why don’t you get tips from Nadim?” Shayne asked. “He lived there, too.”
“I’ve tried,” Ruby said. “But he was useless. Apparently when he lived in London, Nadim only went to nightclubs or Michelin-starred restaurants. He was a super-rich trust-fund brat back then, remember?” Ruby loved to hear stories of Nadim’s UK debauchery, especially since he was such a goofy nerd and devoted family man now.
“If this woman is Nadim’s friend, she was probably atrust-fund brat, too,” Marley said. “Hey, do you have a star for the top of the tree? Didn’t you get a Swarovski one on clearance last year?”
“Yes!” Ruby had forgotten about that star. She knelt near her bed to get at the storage boxes down there. She’d been so excited when she found it on a clearance shelf—but it was bright red crystal and was all wrong for her pink tree. Maybe a part of her knew that she’d have a much better tree this year. She found it in a box of summer shoes and handed it to Marley.
“Maybe this woman can help you get a job there, though,” Anderson said. “Did you get any offers yet?”
“Sort of,” Ruby said. “Two boutiques on High Street said they’ll likely offer when I get there. And three more told me to call them for an interview the moment I land.” She’d known it wouldn’t be hard to get a job. Ruby moved a lot, and finding a new job was always the easiest part of moving. Her résumé was an impressive list of sales and management positions in the best luxury retail stores in Canada—and she had excellent references, too.
But none of the places where she reallywantedto work in the UK had called her back.
“Nothing from hotels?” Marley asked.
