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“Monday would be great.”

“Six?”

“Make it seven,” she said. The boutique didn’t close until five, and sometimes customers hung around after closing. She wanted time to get ready. As if she wasn’t ready now.

Would Tuck find a way to change his plans for tonight if she told him she was naked? Maybe, but if he didn’t how humiliated would she be?

“Seven it is,” he said. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay.” It was not okay, but she wouldn’t tell him so. “Monday will be perfect.” Actually right now would be perfect, but…

She heard music in the background. It was too early for a live band, she assumed, and what she heard sounded like a recording. The jukebox, maybe. “Baby It’s Cold Outside.” She could get dressed, not in her red dress, and head to The Magnolia as she had last night. Another burger and one can of wine, this time. Maybe Tuck would have time to talk to her in between customers. With luck, there wouldn’t be any brawls that sprawled in her direction.

But he didn’t invite her, and she didn’t want to appear overly eager.

“What will you do tonight?” he asked.

“I don’t know. The TV has an antenna that picks up a couple of local stations. I’ll find a movie to watch, and I might finish off the cookies.”

“I like Elf,” he said.

She hadn’t watched a Christmas movie in years, had actively avoided them. But she remembered the thrill of those movies that were only on TV during December. She and Dawn had spent many a winter break in front of the TV, huddled under their softest blankets. “I prefer Miracle on 34th Street. The original, of course.”

He grunted a little. “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“No.” She laughed. “That one always makes me cry.”

“We can’t have that.”

There was a pause, a moment of silence. Neither of them said they had to go, or even a simple goodbye or see you later.

It was Olive who broke the silence. “Maybe I’m over my intense dislike of Christmas. This year is shaping up to be…” Special. Exciting. Merry. “…Nice.”

“Look, maybe I can…” Before he could finish that sentence, someone in the background shouted his name. That “Tuck!” sounded urgent, though how could she know? He finished with, “Shit, I gotta go.”

And the call was over.

Olive tossed her phone onto the bed and dropped the towel. She remembered her pirate ghost, or the possibility of her ghost, and snatched the towel up to cover herself again. Was he watching? “Get lost, Giles,” she whispered.

As she walked toward the dresser to grab pajamas, she found herself humming.

Baby it’s cold outside…