Page 51 of Santa Baby

Shocked, I signed, unsure what for, but within seconds a giant, heavy something was stacked on top of the pizza box. I turned back inside, unable to see over the glossy wrapping paper. It took me ages to find my way back upstairs, my legs burning from the trek to my apartment.

“Liv! You gotta help me open the door!”

Liv appeared, her eyes going wide as I sidled into my apartment. She caught the mysterious object as it slid off the pizza box, and grunted under the weight of it, furrowing her brows. “What is this?”

“I have no idea. I went down to get the pizza and another delivery person was there. It’s for me, though.”

Liv inspected it as I set down the pizza, wiped my clammy hands on my jeans, and turned to her.

She took a deep sniff. “It smells like cinnamon. Like those scented pinecones.”

“I know. That’s gotta be a good sign.”

She set it on the table, on top of a pile of mail I hadn’t sorted through yet. We stared at it for a moment, then at each other.

“Maybe it’s from a client,” I said with a shrug, peeling back the shiny paper.

Liv gasped and my mind went blank as the cellophane fell to the floor, revealing a small Christmas tree made of Christmas flowers—poinsettia, holly, pine—and decorated with tiny glass ornaments. Liv reached for the base, pressing a mysterious button, and the tree lit up with flashing soft white lights, a tune playing within.

“Wow,” I whispered to myself.

“Wow is right. These are Tiffany ornaments,” Liv whispered, inspecting one between her fingers.

I snatched the little envelope stuck between two sprigs of pine branches and ripped it open, my heartrate skyrocketing.

Fia,

I had a wonderful time on Saturday. I can’t stop thinking about it. And I figured you can never have enough trees.

Mason

I flipped the card over, my mouth going dry. The rest of the card was blank. I barely felt Liv taking the card from my hand, but her rushed exhale got my attention.

“I think this answers your question.”

“What question was that?” I asked, finding it hard to swallow.

“That he likes you as much as you like him,” she said, grinning.

“This doesn’t mean anything.” I fingered one of the ornaments. “It’s just flowers. He can’t stop thinking about what we did, not me.”

“He could have gotten you roses,” she replied with a nudge. “But he got you a Christmas tree. Two of them!” She pointed to the Christmas tree in the living room, my first real tree of my adult life. “Come on, Fia. He likes you too.”

My heart squeezed around the truth I was having a hard time processing. “Maybe.”

“Talk to him,” she urged, giving my arm a little shake. “Call him right now.”

“It’s almost nine!”

“So? He’s probably still at his office, right? You told me he always works late.”

“I guess I could call.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket but hesitated. “Just to thank him for the flowers.”

“Yeah.” She grinned with an encouraging lift to her voice. “Just to thank him for the flowers.” She opened the pizza box and grabbed a slice, giving me a teasing look. She turned toward the couch, giving me an iota of privacy despite us being less than ten feet apart at the most.

I slipped into my snug bathroom instead of hanging back in the kitchen, closing the door behind me, and called him.

It rang three times before going to an automated voicemail greeting. I stifled what I could only describe as mingled relief and disappointment that he hadn’t picked up.