Page 5 of A Christmas Adventure

A man with sharp features and an age Violeta can't quite determine turns with a calm smile and nods.

"Of course. Just for tonight?"

"Yes, I'm going to Alquézar, but with this snow, I don't dare."

Violeta assumes it's the man's friendly manner that has made her share her intentions.

"You're doing the right thing. I don't think it'll get worse than this, but it's better not to risk it with the car, especially at night. You'll see, by morning there'll be nothing left but traces of snow on the roadside. The big snowfalls are yet to come," the man says as he takes her details.

"I hope so," Violeta says.

"You'll see. Room one twelve, first floor."

He hands her the keys and points to the elevator right in front. Violeta says goodbye to the man and decides to take the stairs, whose wooden steps creak with each step. Once in her room, small but cozy with a double bed, she leaves her things and calls her mother to explain the situation.

"I told you you didn't have to come, Violeta. Now I'm just worried something might happen to you," she says anxiously.

"Nothing will happen to me, Mom. I'm already at the hostel. I'll stay here and set off when dawn breaks."

"Alright, honey, but don't you dare come if the weather doesn't improve."

When they say goodbye and Violeta hangs up, she checks the time and realizes it's not even nine in the evening. She's not sleepy at all, and she doesn't want to dine on chocolate cookies either, so she takes a shower that helps her warm up and returns to reception to ask the friendly gentleman about a place where she can eat a hamburger not too far from the hostel.

The man gives her directions, and Violeta steps outside after sending a message to Teresa telling her she's arrived without specifying where. The large, thick snowflakes that were falling when she arrived have almost disappeared, becoming so sparse that cars don't even activate their windshield wipers.

Once again, the idea of returning to the road crosses her mind, but this time, she thinks of her mother and how upset she'd be if something happened to her, so she keepswalking until she reaches the hamburger joint the hostel owner recommended.

Chapter 3

When Violet arrives at the bar the hostel owner recommended, she discovers it's not just a place to eat dinner. Patrons can also grab a drink and pass time at one of the two pool tables or the foosball table located opposite the eight dining tables.

Violet takes an empty seat at the bar and orders a hamburger with fries, accompanied by an orange soda. She watches the players while eating. Not a shy woman, she's already considering leaving a coin on one of the pool tables to play a game against the next winner.

Two guys play at the left table, while a couple, a man and a woman, occupy the right one. They all seem skilled, perhaps too much for her level, but she just wants to play a game to kill time. It's too early to go to bed, and she doesn't know anyone here or have anything to do. Solitude doesn't suit her, and since she didn't anticipate this detour, she left the book she's reading on her bedside table. The woman, with her back to Violet and leaning over the table to line up her next shot, executes a perfect move, pocketing two solidballs. Violet gapes, chewing her fries hungrily, realizing she's been staring at her for a while.

After her small victory, the woman straightens up and turns with a satisfied smile to chalk her cue. She looks up and meets Violet's gaze. Violet stops chewing for a moment, and the food she's swallowing catches in her throat. She tries to contain her cough but fails, only managing to cover her mouth to keep the chewed bits from flying out. Violet coughs until her eyes water and her cleavage sweats.

"Are you okay?" The bartender's voice makes her turn, embarrassed.

Violet nods, feeling her whole body burn, and drinks her soda until the food finally goes down, soothing her throat.

"Went down the wrong pipe," she says in a raspy voice, brushing it off.

The man nods with a grimace and continues tending the bar. Violet turns without thinking, expecting the woman to be executing another perfect shot, but discovers she's still there, her cue resting on the floor as she watches her intently. Suddenly, she gives a thumbs up, asking if she's okay. Violet, with a spontaneous smile and burning cheeks, repeats the gesture. As soon as she does, the woman flashes her a smile that Violet finds charming before turning back to continue her game.

If Violet was watching her distractedly before, now she does so almost brazenly. She notices her appearance, realizing from the start that the woman is older than her, probably over forty, though she doesn't mind. The secondthing that catches her attention is her look, a mix of elegant and casual that gives her a unique beauty, typical of women with strong character and clear ideas. The tight jeans, spotless ankle boots, subtle makeup, and elegantly tied hair contrast with the open shirt covering a basic t-shirt. Violet concludes there's nothing about her she doesn't like.

Once, talking with Teresa, she asked Violet's opinion on casual encounters, or plainly put, one-night stands. Violet respects and envies those who can enjoy sex that way, but for her, it's impossible without feelings involved.

"Are you telling me you've never hooked up with someone and then acted like it never happened?" Teresa had asked, surprised.

"No," Violet said proudly, not minding admitting it. Everyone is different, and she's not one who needs to do things just because others do. She has nothing to prove.

"Not even if you met your ideal woman?" her colleague asked. "I mean, that person we all imagine as perfect, you know, and don't tell me you don't have your imaginary woman prototype."

"Well, if I met a woman like that, it's possible I would," Violet admitted, to Teresa's satisfaction.

Violet is very aware at that moment why that conversation with her coworker has come to mind. It's simple; the woman playing pool in front of her is the type of woman she imagines as physically perfect, though to others she might be average. When their gazes cross again, she realizes the answer she gave her friend wasn't entirely accurate. She said it was probable, but the correct wordwould be a resounding yes. She would undoubtedly sleep with a woman like that without needing to exchange a single word.