12 Days of Mistletoe

12. Elliot

TWELVE

elliot

Bill White is the epitome of his name: tall, lean, pale, with a head full of salt-and-pepper hair.

“There’s my Bon Bon,” Bill says, holding his arms out.

Bonnie doesn’t bother taking her coat off; it’s a cold December day, and I wouldn’t blame her if she kept it on for a while. I never bothered to grab mine. I’m still in a suit coat. And I am chilled to the bone. It’s a good thing I warm up quickly.

“And No-No. I couldn’t forget you, my girl.” Bill reaches out a hand for the doodle. She lifts her head, helping him find a sweet spot at the very top of her left ear. He still has one arm wrapped around Bonnie, but he pulls away from her to better look at her. “You brought Scrabble?”

“Of course.”

“And who’s this joker?” he says, his eyes on Bonnie, though he tilts his head to the side toward me.

Joker? I’m in a suit. How many jokers wear suits? I clear my throat and stretch out a hand to the older man, Bonnie’s friend. “Hello, sir. I’m Elliot Eaton. It’s nice to meet you. ”

Bill’s almost as tall as me. In his prime, he may have had an inch on me. I meet him eye to eye, and he looks at me with all the suspicion of an adoring grandfather, though Bonnie’s already explained that I’m just a friend.

“Does that name mean a dang thing to you, Noel?” Bill White says. “Because it doesn’t to me.”

Bonnie folds her lips in on one another—though it’s clear she’s laughing at me silently. “He lives in my building,” Bonnie says. Bill takes my outstretched hand. “And he’ll be my boyfriend for the next twelve days.”

Bill’s brows lift and his eyes slide to Bonnie. “Trial run, eh? Probably a smart idea.”

She tucks a handful of hair behind one ear. “It’s all a ruse for Elliot’s family.”

“Hey,” I grunt, because if we want this to be believable maybe we shouldn’t be broadcasting that it’s fake. Not to mention, none of what she’s said makes me look very good.

“What?” Bonnie says. “It’s the truth.”

“Oh, pipe down, kiddo.” Bill sits at a nearby table in the center’s dining room. Bonnie is right behind him, sitting at his left. I follow along and sit across from the older man. “So, you couldn’t get yourself a real girlfriend?”

I glance at Bonnie. How long are we here again? “I wasn’t exactly looking.”

“Well, how old are you?” Bill says, because suddenly I’m on a quiz show, one where I am the only contestant and get to answer all of the questions.

“Twenty-eight,” I say, adjusting in my chair.

“And you’re not looking? Heavens to Betsy, you should be. You should be lookin’, young man. You think a girl like Bonnie would be your real girlfriend once you hit the ripe old age of thirty? ”

“I’ll only be twenty-eight when he’s thirty,” Bonnie says, “so probably not.” Bonnie’s lips fold in on one another as she smothers a laugh. And then, she winks at me. It’s the friendliest act I’ve seen from her yet, and it throws me for a second. Her red-blonde hair, so similar to the color of her pup’s, falls partly in front of her right eye, and I have the strangest desire to brush it back and get another glimpse at that tattoo.

“Exactly,” Bill says, his nod a little too enthusiastic. “Why do you need to tell your family you’ve got a girl, anyhow?”

I sigh and run a hand down the length of my face. I would have let Bonnie come alone had I known this was waiting for me.

Bonnie snickers. “Ohhh, I am so glad you pushed your way into my car, E.J. Eaton.”

“I didn’t push, and it’s Elliot—” I shake my head and turn to Bill. “I was trying to avoid an embarrassing Christmas card event, that’s all.”

Bill’s bushy white brows pull together. “Can’t be all. Or you wouldn’t have said that’s all .”

“Uh—” I look to Bonnie for help. And when she doesn’t have any to offer, I spill more truth I hadn’t planned on talking about. Because I never talk about Jess. “That, and they’ve all worried that I’m not truly over my ex. I am, by the way. I’m fine.”

“Nope—wouldn’t have said that if you are,” Bill says, interrupting me yet again. “How come you aren’t over… what’s-her-name?”

“I—I didn’t say that. Jess and I broke up almost a year ago. It was mutual?—”

“Nope,” Bill says again, and if I’d driven myself, I’d be out of here. One more nope and I’m walking home. Who cares if Billings is a brisk twenty-two degrees today?

A small peep sounds from Bonnie, who is clearly struggling not to laugh at me. She sucks in a breath and says, “Maybe we should give him a break, Bill. Scrabble?”

So, we play, with Noel sitting at Bonnie’s feet the entire game.

And guess what?

Bill cheats.