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He relaxes a little, dropping his shoulders and breathing deep. “Yeah, actually, that sounds kind of nice.”
I’m thrilled, but I’m still uncertain as to why he’s actually here. I’m not convinced that he drove here to give me my wallet out of the goodness of his heart. However, I’m able to suspend my disbelief a little longer, so I’ll take what I can get.
I guide him up to my front door, feeling a bit nervous about having a guest uninvited, especially someone I’m attracted to. I have no idea what his standards of cleanliness are. Working late has prevented me from doing a proper deep clean. What if he thinks I’m gross?
He doesn’t seem to notice anything bothersome when he walks in, paying special attention to the abstract painting above my fireplace. I’m still beet red as I glance around to see if I can find anything that he might consider unsightly. Maybe he came here to have sex, but he won’t want to after he sees the bathroom.
“Sorry if it’s a little messy in here,” I stammer as I lead him into the kitchen. “I’ve been working a lot and I haven’t been home.”
Glancing around the room, he smiles slightly. “You have nothing to worry about. So, I have something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
As I reach into my cabinet for the cocoa mix, I stop and turn around to look him in the eyes. “What kind of ‘something’?”
“There’s this thing that my, uh, company does every year for Christmas. It’s a big crazy party where everyone gets drunk and dances together. Stuff like that. Usually I go alone, but this year I wanted to bring someone. Can you look at your schedule and see if you can come with?”
It takes me a minute to find the right words to describe how I feel about the proposition. “Um, it sounds like a party full of criminals and intoxicants. I don’t know if I feel comfortable with it. Like you said, I’m too normal for your associates.”
He laughs a little. “Please. If anything, they’d be happy to meet someone who hasn’t held a gun to someone else’s head.”
I chuckle nervously, but he doesn’t retract his statement.
“Um... You know what? Yeah, I’ll go with you on one condition,” I reply as I begin to heat the milk for the cocoa on the stove.
“What’s that?”
“I need help putting up my Christmas lights. I know it seems kind of silly, but I would really appreciate the help,” I say.
“I mean, that sounds easy enough, especially if I can get Artem off my back,” he responds, partially to himself and partially to me.
“Who?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I think about pressing him about it, but instead I shrug and continue making the cocoa. This is way better than I could have expected this visit to be going, so I don’t want to fuck it up. He’s asking me on a date!
I’ve spent the better part of the last few weeks daydreaming about Saint coming back into my life for some reason or another, so this feels like a dream come true. I don’t want to get my expectations too high yet, so I’ll just keep my thoughts to myself until I can see how things are unfolding.
“Um, okay, what kind of occasion is it? Like, what should I wear?” I ask, watching him a little more closely than I probably need to. I just can’t believe he’s here again. It all feels too good to be true.
“It’s pretty formal, but nobody acts like it. The dress code and atmosphere are the only thing that make it feel that way. Beyond that, everyone acts pretty casual. It can get a little rowdy, I’ll admit, but usually nothing gets out of hand.”
“What does it look like when things get out of hand?” I ask.
“Well, one year, two guys got really hammered and ended up getting into a huge fight. At one point, one of them shoves she other through a window overlooking the sidewalk. It wasn’t a far drop or anything, but it was still pretty fucking bad. We got banned from the venue for life, but the two guys are still alive, so that’s… something,” he replies as I hand him a cup of cocoa.
“Damn, what were they fighting about?”
“Neither of them remembers. I think someone said that one guy was making jokes about the other guy’s wife, which isn’t out of character for him, but nobody really knows. They’re still good friends despite it.”
I sit across from him with my own cup, anxious to hear more stores about his crazy mafia Christmas parties. The concept seems kind of absurd, but so far it sounds so foreign to me that I’d be stupid to not at least go once. It sounds like the kind of experience I need to have to contrast all of the office Christmas parties I’ve been to. Even sneaking in wine coolers wasn’t enough to get me through the last one.
I try not to smile too much, but I’m really thrilled that he’s here to begin with. Being invited to a party with him feels surreal. “Alright, well, as long as you can promise nobody will shove me through a window, I’d love to go. I’m not sure if I have anything fancy enough to wear though, I’ll have to look for something.”
“No need. I can find something for you. Everyone else wears some pretty expensive shit, and I’d hate for you to feel left out because of it. Just consider it my treat. I can more than afford it,” he replies.
I struggle to keep my joy to myself, but I don’t want to ruin this by being over-eager. However, just this once I wish I could be. I haven’t been this excited about anything in years. I didn’t party much when I was in college, but I always envied the people who did. Their grades might have suffered for it, but they always looked like they were about to have the best night of their lives. I never felt like I could grasp that feeling like they did, and I always wished that I could.
“Alright, we should get back outside before the sun goes down,” I say as I finish my cup.
