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So, I chose black slacks with a matching turtleneck and paired them with shiny wingtip Oxfords.
It would have made more sense for me and Nathan to arrive together at the venue, but like everything else, he had to make it difficult. Instead, I was supposed to meet him at the tree. Considering how many things could go wrong with that plan, I didn’t like it, but I didn’t exactly have a choice, either.
After finding a parking spot in the back of the crowded public lot, I joined the throng of revelers as we traversed the four blocks to our shared destination. In a circular common area in the center of the park, a small dais had been erected in front of a monster tree, along with a podium and several microphones.
Despite it being hailed as a community event, no one from the actual community could get close to the tree. Not with the amount of security and the wall of newscasters, journalists, and bloggers blocking the way. Behind the stage, event staff scurried around like ants, likely making last-minute preparations before the senator took the stage.
Senator Fairfax stood at the back edge of the platform, surrounded by people with tablets, clipboards, and earpieces. I also recognized Nathan’s sister, Julianna, and I could only assume the people with her were the other sister and their respective husbands. Nathan, however, was nowhere to be seen.
I retrieved my cell phone from my pocket and texted him.
Since no one approached me or even acknowledged my existence, I waited off to the side of the growing crowd. Either Nathan would show up, and I’d join him on stage, or he wouldn’t. In which case, I would stay to enjoy the tree lighting before going home.
I checked my phone. No response. I texted him again.
As the sun sank below the horizon, plunging the park into shadows, the latter scenario was looking to be more and more likely. Thousands of people from all over the city and suburbs packed into the space. Parents with small children. Teenagers. Older couples. A few people had brought their dogs.
The air practically sizzled with excitement and anticipation when a man who appeared to be in his fifties took the state to introduce the senator. He gave a brief history of the event, thanked their sponsors, gave a couple of announcements, then turned the microphone over to Senator Fairfax.
Still nothing from Nathan. I texted him again.
The senator took the stage with a bright, cheerful smile. Her daughters followed behind her, stopping a few feet away from the podium with their husbands and children. Nathan was conspicuously absent.
I texted him again for what I promised myself was the last time.
Senator Fairfax began by thanking everyone for attending. She waxed poetic about what an honor it was to be there to represent the great state of Texas. Of course, she went on to talk about the importance of community and family. She recognized the struggles many people faced during the holidays, and she offered words of comfort for those facing the season after the loss of a loved one.
It was a beautiful speech, and whether she meant any of it or not, she sold it.
The night exploded into cheers and applause when she pressed the comically large button to light the Christmas tree behind her. Tens of thousands of multi-colored lights twinkled to life around the fifty-foot evergreen, reflecting off the elegant ornaments and baubles that adorned the branches.
There were oohs and aahs, a few squeals, and a lot of shouting. Despite being annoyed—and maybe a little worried—I couldn’t help but feel a sense of childlike wonder as I stared at the glowing star atop the tree.
When the senator left the stage, and the crowd dispersed to enjoy the various activities throughout the park, I sighed and headed in the opposite direction, toward the exit. The event hadn’t been a complete bust. I did enjoy the tree lighting, and it hadn’t cost me anything. Even my parking fees would be reimbursed.
It was Nathan’s disrespect for my time that irked me. Knowing it had probably been intentional pissed me off even more. Yet, if he thought that would be enough to make me resign, he was in for disappointment.
I had just cleared the commons and stepped onto the thoroughfare when I found my way blocked by none other than the pain in the ass himself. Dressed in a pair of skinny jeans with his customary black sweater jacket and a pair of sneakers, he clearly had no intentions of playing the role of the senator’s son.
Fair enough, but if that was the case, why was he there?
Then, the strangest thing happened. His eyes lit up like noon in the desert, and a beautiful, dazzling smile stretched across his face.
“Gage!” he sang.
He launched himself at me, leaving me no choice but to catch him or risk us both ending up on the ground. His arms wound around my neck in a crushing embrace, and he giggled—fucking giggled—before placing a loud, smacking kiss on my cheek.
The kid fucking wreaked of alcohol. Not beer, but something stronger. Whiskey, if I had to guess. Fuck, this was bad.
“Are you drunk?” I whispered against his ear while I continued to hold him tight against me.
“Maybe.” He hummed quietly and nuzzled his face against the side of my neck. “You smell good.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Did you drive here?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
