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"The first one? How many do you intend to have? Do I need to worry about your climbing tendencies?"
Blushing furiously, I fix my gaze on a zombie mask, sipping from my cup. "No worry, you're the only one I want to climb."
Christopher groans, a sounds that travels right through me, heating a certain area of my body. "You're killing me, Victoria. I'm tempted to fly back to see you."
"Why don't you?" I brainstorm for ways to persuade him because I miss him terribly. It's a little ridiculous because it's not as if I saw him daily before he left for Seattle. But something changed between us when we were in his apartment, spurring feelings that are somewhat outlandish and entirely new to me. It scares me out of my wits.
"Because I plan to do more than just see you, and I'll need more than a few hours for what I have in mind."
"Which is?"
"Kissing every inch of your body and making love to you until you ache are high on my priority list."
I clutch my cup so tightly that it crumbles in my fist. Luckily I'd already drank it up. "Christopher," I admonish, glancing to my left and then my right, irrationally afraid that passersby might have heard him. They didn’t, of course, but that doesn't stop the heat from crawling up my cheeks.
"You asked." He has a point, of course, and I need to remember not to ask questions if I can't handle the answers. Judging by the way my entire body has heated up and my mind trips for a way to continue the conversation, I clearly can't. As if sensing my ordeal, Christopher adds, "Where are you?"
"Downtown. Brainstorming a few things for a client I’m meeting Monday."
"I wish you'd decorated this hotel. Everything's gray, I swear. It's like the decorator went out of the way to ensure the place has zero warmth to it."
"You can always buy a pumpkin," I tease him. "Or a skeleton. I'm sure they're everywhere."
"Huh?"
"I'm staring at a Halloween display in a store."
"Ah yeah, it's mid-October. The city will be full of Halloween displays for the next two weeks."
"In some households, this used to be the month of pranks."
"Huh?"
"Lucas used to start with the pranks at the beginning of October. He'd routinely scare the crap out of my parents. They never got used to it." I scan the display, which showcases every imaginable Halloween scare from masks to spiders and fake teeth. I'm more of a Christmas girl, but even so, I can appreciate their range. I'm tempted to buy Lucas some supplies, but I'm almost certain he already owns half of what’s inside this store. There is a box in our basement labeled Lucas's Halloween Box.
"And no prank so far?"
"None,
" I confirm. "I used to hate them, because no matter how often he'd put spiders in my hair, it would shock and annoy the hell out of me. I have three gray hairs, and they all sprouted last year in October after his prank. I'd gladly welcome white hair if it meant Lucas was his old self again."
"These things take time, Victoria," Christopher says gently. "But I swear to God, that kid could be my own. When I was his age, it was my mission in life to give everyone a heart attack around Halloween. I thought it was the height of fun, and I always hoped they'd start to prank me back, but only Max ever did."
Conjuring up the image of two mini Christophers in my mind, running around and terrorizing their poor families, I can't help beaming.
"I have to go," Christopher says unexpectedly. "My next meeting is starting earlier. Don't drink too many eggnogs."
"Afraid I'll show off my climbing skills to some other man?"
"Any prospectives?"
"Oh yeah. Several new clients I'd rank somewhere between extremely handsome and utterly climbworthy. I'm meeting one in twenty minutes, just in time for the eggnog to be effective."
I was hoping to get a few laughs out of him, but in the silence that follows, I realize my joke might have had the opposite effect.
"I don't share, Victoria." His voice is low, tinged with unease and—I realize with a rush of guilt—hurt.
"You…. It was supposed to be a joke, which should give you an idea of why I never prank people. I suck at it. I…. There are no prospectives."
