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Hailey enters the ballroom, and all eyes turn toward her like she’s an angel gifted from above. It’s true, she’s stunning, mesmerizingly beautiful, perfect by all accounts. It isn’t just the dress or my manhood talking either. She carries herself with a sense of authority. Her attitude doesn’t entertain an inkling of worry about what others think. I like that in a woman. It’s less taxing than being with a woman who constantly needs approval and adoration.
Women like that remind me of my mother. Always nitpicking, fishing for compliments, then flipping the conversation into something negative. The fights that ensued between my parents after exchanges like that continue to haunt me. I’m sure their horrid relationship is why I avoid serious entanglements and keep women I date at an emotional distance.
Hailey doesn’t strike me as that kind of woman, though. She seems genuine, a little playful, and a lot in control. She’s something else, all right. Maybe too perfect.
We weave through the crowd to the food table. The astonished faces and abrupt interruptions in conversations don’t go unnoticed. No one’s more surprised at my being here than me.
“Adrian dear, it’s so good of you to join us this evening.” An elderly woman from the floor below mine taps me on the back as I open a box of cupcakes. “And you brought treats. How wonderful.”
“There not from–”
“Adrian insisted on getting cookies and cupcakes from the bakery down the street.” Hailey interrupts me before I can give her all the credit. “Saved me the trouble. Isn’t that sweet of him?”
“Oh, yes, my dear.” The woman eyes the sugar-laden treats with a twinkle in her eye. “I think I’ll have just one. They look so delicious.”
Hailey threads her arm through mine, giggling as she leads me away from the table. We find a standing table in a quiet corner. Greenery encircles a single flickering candle. Nothing ornate. Vibrant red potted poinsettias sit atop columns of varying heights scattered throughout the room. A floor-to-ceiling Christmas tree stands in the center of the ballroom. It’s decorated with twinkling white lights and nothing more. Sophisticated, yet minimalistic without a solitary wrapped present beneath. I expected something more lavish, heaped with intricate ornaments and sparkling glass balls like the trees my mother decorated when I was little.
“Well, not so bad, huh?” Hailey places her handbag on the table. Her eyes light up, sparkling from the candle’s glow. “Glad you came?”
I am glad, mostly because I’m with her, but I don’t want to admit it so quickly. “Thank you for inviting me. The jury’s still out.”
“You’re a tough nut to crack, Adrian. But I have something that will change your mind.” She opens her purse and reaches inside, pulling out a single cupcake like a magician plucking a rabbit from a hat. “I salvaged one of Noelle’s cupcakes from the batch.”
She slides the cupcake across the table toward me. I was right about the plain cupcakes from the bakery on the corner. They don’t begin to compare to the perfection of this one.
“You should have this.” I scoot the cupcake back toward her. She pushes it back, insistent, so I do as I’m told. “We should at least split it.”
I peel the paper wrapper from the chocolate cake, careful not to smear the frosting as I twist the bottom, halving the cupcake. I turn the frosted side over and place it on top of the bottom layer.
“You get the first bite.” I place the cupcake on the paper wrapper and glance up at her.
Her eyes widen, glued to the cupcake. The corner of her lip quirks into a grin as she slips her fingertips affectionately over mine.
“I’ve never known anyone who eats a cupcake like that except my aunt.” She laughs, and something sweet and innocent flashes in her eyes. “She taught me the trick when I was younger. I used to get frosting all over my face, up my nose, and in my hair.”
“So nothing’s changed.” I chuckle. “As I recall, you’re still in the habit of wearing cupcakes instead of eating them.”
A soft shade of pink creeps up her chest, and I’m instantly drawn to her breasts. The outline of her nipples pushes against the fabric, and I thank the heavens it’s slightly cool inside the ballroom. She giggles, causing her breasts to jiggle freely, kicking my testosterone into high gear.
I’m smitten with the girl next door. I no longer believe in Santa, but right now, I’d beg him for a chance at making Hailey’s naughty list. If that makes me a greedy Christmas hypocrite, then so be it.
