Christmas Eve Love Story

Twenty-Two

On the seventh Christmas Eve

Fa-la-la-la-la—!

Annie stared at her phone, so ready for this day.

Okay, it was still happening. And today, she was trying extra hard with Braden. Maybe she’d break through. Leo lifted his head from his perch by her feet and started purring. “Morning, sunshine!” Annie sat up and petted him, and he purred louder. “Do you know what day it is?” She smiled at the cat. “Of course, you do. I do too.” Annie swung her feet over the bed, pausing to grab Leo’s cat toy off the floor without stepping on it.

Leo plodded into the kitchen and she followed him with a purposeful air, raising the kitchen blinds. The sidewalks were clear, the sky cloudy and gray. Annie peered in her refrigerator at the nearly bare shelves. Shame. That last batch of chili had been extra tasty. Oh well. She shut the fridge door. She’d get another try at that too.

Tina’s smile gleamed in their Coney Island photo. Annie badly wanted to text her, but she never had the right words to say. Now, she could be out of a job.

Not if I can help it.

Annie set her chin, preparing her coffee. Her window display at Lawson’s was definitely improved from where she’d started. The toy mouse in a stocking cap snuggled in his bed behind the tree leant it a magical touch. Maybe there were more ways to add magic to her window?

Leo meowed, and she chuckled indulgently. “Okay, okay, I’ll feed you.”

She did so carefully—and without incident—before her intercom buzzed.

“Package for you!”

Annie rolled her eyes at Leo. “We both know that’s not accurate.”

Later, at the subway stop, she didn’t even bother to ask the younger guy what day it was. Instead, she sat down on the bench beside the man reading the newspaper. His eyes were glued to data columns that looked like stock market reports. She peeked at the date on the front page as he held it open: December 24 .

The man noticed her staring and closed his paper. “Happy Christmas Eve,” he said in a light British accent. He was much younger than she’d noticed before, with dirty-blond hair and deep-brown eyes. Nice-looking too.

Wait. She recognized that face. “Quinn?”

He blinked and set the paper on his lap. “Have we met?”

“I, er”—she twisted a lock of her hair around her finger—“not exactly, but I think I’ve seen you in the store.”

He crossed his arms, and his very nicely cut suit creased in places. “Which store is that?”

“Lawson’s Finest.” How had she not put this together? Though, to be fair, she’d barely seen—or spoken to—the man by the jewelry counter.

“Ahh, yes. Probably so.” He smiled proudly. “My girlfriend owns the place.”

Annie did her best to act surprised—and impressed. “You’re dating Veronica Lawson?”

“Not just dating,” he confided in low tones. “Taking things to the next level tonight.” He chuckled softly. “Don’t know why I’m telling you this, but the truth is I’m a bit excited.” He folded up his paper and slid it in his backpack. “A little nervous too.”

“So, you’re…?” Annie grinned excitedly. She’d guessed there’d been something very important in his gift bag.

Quinn nodded. “Proposing this evening, that’s right. Got the ring custom-ordered right there at Lawson’s.” He grinned. “Thought it was fitting.”

Annie grabbed her bag’s handle when she saw their train coming. “I’m sure she’ll love that surprise.”

They both stood and he asked her, “What do you do at Lawson’s?”

She squared her shoulders. “I design the windows, among other things.”

“You’re the visual artist there?” His mournful expression said he knew something. Maybe Veronica had told him about her plans to scale back on staff?

“Yeah, one of them.” The train whooshed out of the tunnel and stopped right in front of them. An idea hit her. “And here’s the great thing!” she told Quinn, hoping he might share this with Veronica. “I’m working on something new.”

“For after the holidays?” he asked as they waited for the train’s doors to open.

“No, no,” she answered. “For—right now!”

Quinn rubbed his square jaw. “Interesting,” he said. “Well, good luck with it.”

“Yeah.” She smiled up at him as a throng of people swarmed out of the subway car and she and Quinn prepared to enter. “Good luck to you too.”

Quinn squeezed his way deeper into the packed car, and Annie took a free seat that became available. She settled her bag in her lap, teeming with energy. Today was going to be such a good day. A great day for Veronica Lawson too. Annie snatched a peek at Quinn through the crowd, delighted with her secret. She had to share it with someone, and she knew exactly who.

***

Annie hurried out of the elevator at Lawson’s, not having seen Santa or Braden on the first floor. She’d scoured around for them both, but it was Braden she’d been hunting for most of all. She needed to know if he still had that napkin and whether he remembered yesterday. She beelined down the hall, heading for the section of employee lockers. Braden stepped out in front of her, emerging from the break room. “Whoa!” He stumbled backward, and his full mug of coffee sloshed in his hands, splattering the front of his uniform.

Annie covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry!”

Braden grabbed some paper napkins and started dabbing at his shirt. “Yeah, uh. My fault. I should have looked.” He peeked in her direction. “I didn’t see you coming.”

She eyed him worriedly. “Did that burn you?”

“No, I’m wearing a vest.”

“What?”

“Ballistic.”

“Ooh.” Of course, he was. Security, duh. Her gaze fell to his duty belt and raced back up to his stunning blue eyes.

“Wait.” He balled the coffee-stained napkins in his fist. “Do I know you?”

What? Noooo. “I’m Annie.”

He tossed the napkins in the trash. “Right,” he said, glancing at her. “You—do the windows?”

Arghh. Seriously? “Braden,” she said. “We need to talk.”

He viewed her askance, like she was some kind of random weirdo. “About?”

She fiddled with a button on her coat, her nerves building. “Just things!” She smiled, but then her face fell. “You don’t remember meeting me before, do you?”

“Sure, I do.” He screwed up his face. “At the holiday party, right?”

Annie sighed.

“You were standing by the—Christmas tree?” He checked his watch. “Look, I’d love to stay and chat.” He grinned charmingly, and her pulse fluttered. “The thing is, I’ve got to go and change and get to my post. Lucky for me, I keep a spare shirt in my locker.”

“Sure!” She couldn’t hold him here against his will. She also couldn’t force him to recall their prior interactions either. Darn it. Still. She had to give it another try. Santa was right about those silver linings. Maybe she could still find one with Braden by bringing him around. “Ahh, Braden!” She caught up with him, striding toward her locker in her overly hot pom-pom hat. She ripped it off and he stared at her frizzy, snow-wilted hair. “I was wondering what time you take lunch?”

“Lunch?” He shrugged. “Today, around one thirty? Two?”

“Great!” Annie said. “Maybe we can talk then?”

***

Annie was already in the break room when Braden walked in. “Well, hey there,” he said, pulling his lunch bag from the staff refrigerator. “Nice to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Annie said. “You too.” She stared down at her peanut butter sandwich, which somehow didn’t seem like enough. Maybe she should have packed a dessert.

Braden sat across from her and unloaded his lunch, including that gigantic chocolate chip cookie. Annie’s mouth watered. That looks so good.

He noticed her staring. “Like chocolate chip?”

“Oh yeah, pretty much any kind of cookie.” Which hadn’t exactly been the truth merely a week ago. Most treats had tasted like cardboard.

Braden grinned. “I can give you half?”

“Oh, would you?” She hoped she didn’t sound too eager. “That would be great.”

He cast a look at her sandwich. “You should probably eat your lunch first.”

“It’s Christmastime! We can make exceptions.”

“Don’t want to get on Santa’s naughty list,” he teased.

She sat up straighter. “Take it from me, I’m mostly nice.”

“Oh yeah?” Braden took a bite of his sub and set it down. “That means you still get Santa?”

“Of course,” she bantered sassily. “Don’t you?”

He laughed, and happiness fizzed through her like champagne bubbles.

“I guess I would,” Braden answered, “if I still believed.”

Annie put on a play pout and said deadpan, “But you don’t.”

Braden’s lips pulled up in a grin. “I’d say the—”

“—jury’s still out on that one?” she finished for him.

Braden narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. But how—?”

She leaned toward him. “Braden, I have something to tell you, and I don’t want you to judge me.”

“O-kay.” His eyebrows twitched. “I’m listening.”

She recited her whole spiel, ending with the tidbit about meeting Quinn on the subway platform and about how he was about to propose to Veronica Lawson. She finished her last nibble of cookie and chased it with a sip of her coffee, which had gone lukewarm by now.

Braden stuffed his trash in his lunch bag. “That’s an awful lot to process, Annie.”

“I know it sounds out there,” she agreed. “But, apart from what’s already happened, I can tell you what’s going to happen —later at the store. And Braden—when I explained things to you yesterday, you believed me.”

He pushed back in his chair. “No,” he rasped hoarsely. “No way.” He shut his eyes for a prolonged beat. When he opened them, he asked, “Did you—lose your lip gloss?” He looked like he was trudging through a swamp, fighting his way through murky waters. “Drop it on the floor?”

“I did,” she replied firmly, “and you picked it up.”

He murmured to himself, trancelike. “The shoe…the tree…the train.” He gaped at her. “How—are you doing this?”

Santa strode down the hall. He stopped and poked his head in the door. “Afternoon, you two!” he said without waiting for a reply.

“It’s not me,” Annie whispered. She rolled her eyes toward the hall. “It’s him.”

“Santa?” His tone was incredulous.

“Or Christmas, yes,” she said. “Look, I’m not entirely sure. There’s just something going on where we’re stuck in this time loop, and the only way out seems to be by fixing my window display and making it better.”

Braden massaged his forehead. “Because that’s the only part of this day that changes?”

Annie shook her head. “Other things keep changing too. My interactions with my neighbors, for example, and”—her heart stuttered at the curious look in his eyes—“my conversations with you.”

“So, you and I?” Braden motioned between them. “We’re a thing?”

Embarrassing. “No, no! Not, er, um… a thing ”—she blew out a breath—“exactly.” In her dreams.

Braden set his elbows on the table. “Then what?”

“We’re…well, friends.” Annie licked her lips, wishing they were so much more, but it was very hard to explain that under the circumstances.

He searched her eyes. “You said you have proof.”

“Not me,” she answered. “You do.”

Braden laid a hand on his chest. “What?”

“It’s in your jacket pocket,” she told him. “You wrote something on a napkin at the Blue Dot last night—I mean later today.” Annie turned up her hands. “Whenever.”

“Okay,” he said, standing. “My jacket’s in my locker. Let’s take a look.”

They nearly bumped into Kira as she entered the room.

“Oh!” Annie sprang back, bumbling into Braden. She spun around and he caught her, his hands bracing her upper arms. Annie’s breath hitched.

“Careful there.” He was such a sexy and irresistible guy. No wonder she was falling for him. Panic washed over her like icy ocean waves. She could not let herself fall for someone she’d never stand a chance with in this reality.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Kira smirked with a knowing gleam.

“You’re not interrupting.” Annie steadied herself on her heels. “We were just—on our way.” She glanced at Braden, trying not to sound breathy. “Thanks for the save.”

He grinned, and her heart pounded. “No problem.”

Oh boy, this is bad. Badder than bad. She had the major hots for a man she was stuck in a time loop with. A time loop with loopholes, no less. How would they ever have a future, or even a first date? Assuming he felt the same. Braden turned, wearing a concerned expression when she lagged behind. “You okay?” The twinkle in his eyes said maybe he did find her appealing. Her knees shook, and she steadied herself against the wall with one hand.

She gathered her resolve and followed along. “Um, yep!”

As okay as I’ll ever be until I can figure this whole thing out.

Braden entered the lounge area with its assortment of employee lockers and opened his. He took out his jacket and unzipped a pocket, fishing around inside.

Please let him find the note.

Please, please, please. Please.

He checked the other pocket and shook his head.

“Sorry.” He frowned. “Nothing’s there.”

Annie’s heart sank like a stone but wait. “Not the outside pockets. An inside one?”

“Ah.” He reached into his jacket’s hollow and extracted something in his fingers.

He gawked down at the napkin. “I wrote this?”

Annie nodded. Yes! He found it.

His eyes flashed with understanding—or maybe a hint of a memory. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “Yeah, I—did.” Braden stared at her, flummoxed. “Holy wow, Annie, this is seriously messed up.”

“I know,” she whispered when she saw Patrice approaching.

“Annie!” Patrice called, striding toward her. “Do you have time for a little chat?”

Annie grimaced at Braden with her back turned to Patrice, and he apparently got her hint. This was just the first of many events she’d predicted that were about to come true. Annie spun toward her boss and answered, “Be right there, Patrice.”

***

At around half past three, Quinn helped Veronica out of the fake snow, holding her hand. He grasped his gift bag in his other fist, hiding it behind his back. “You’re the visual artist, right?”

Veronica surveyed Annie. “Oh? Is that right?”

Annie nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Quinn tried to make a joke. “When you said you were working on something new here…” He quickly scanned the mess. “I didn’t imagine this.”

“Ha!” Annie said. “Me neither.”

Veronica darted a look at the window and frowned. “What a bummer thing to happen on Christmas Eve,” she said to Annie. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you with the cleanup. Have you got any help?”

Braden stepped forward. “I’ve volunteered.” He smiled at Veronica. “It will be better than new by the time Lawson’s reopens after Christmas.”

Veronica slid her arm through Quinn’s when he extended his elbow. “That’s so nice of you”—she read his name tag—“Braden.”

“No worries,” he said. “Happy to.”

Veronica noticed the sleeping mouse by the upended tree. “How cute is that? Look, Quinn! Not a creature was stirring… ”

“ Not even a mouse. ” He smiled at Veronica. “Clever bit.”

Veronica tipped her hat at Annie. “Love it.”

Annie’s heart soared. “Thank you.”

The two of them left, and Santa appeared as Annie and Braden righted the tree. He stroked his snowy-white beard, staring at the mantel, where Veronica had re-hung the single Christmas stocking. “Something’s not quite right there.”

Not again. But yeah, of course.

“With the stocking?” Annie asked him. “What?”

“I know!” He snapped his gloved fingers. “It’s stockings .”

Annie stared at the faux mantel. “Sorry?”

Santa tugged on his hat. “‘The stockings were hung by the chimney with care…’”

Braden got it. He glanced at Annie. “That’s stockings . Plural.”

She rolled her eyes at Braden. “You want us to add one more?”

“At least!” Santa grinned. “One for little Billy and one for Nell.”

“Wait,” Braden whispered to Annie, “isn’t that from the song ‘Up on the Housetop’?”

“Our Santa knows his Christmas lore.” She spoke louder to Santa. “No problem! We’ll do it!”

Santa nodded and waded into the window, his black boots buried in fake snow. He squatted down to grab the fallen plate of cookies, dropping a few of them on the plate. He held up a fake oatmeal raisin cookie last, and stood, studying it carefully.

Braden picked up the knocked-over end table, and Santa put the cookie plate on it.

“Glad you added my favorite kind,” he said, still holding the cookie in his hand. He opened his mouth and took a whopping big bite!

“Santa!” Annie startled. “Don’t eat that!”

“She’s right.” Braden approached Santa. “That’s not even real.”

Santa rolled the morsel around in his mouth and chewed on it. “Tastes pretty good to me.”

“Santa, don’t!”—Annie held up her hand—“Don’t swallow that, you’ll choke!”

He paid her no mind and ate the piece anyway. Santa placed the remainder of the cookie on the plate. It clearly was damaged, having had a big bite taken out of it. She’d have to get another one from the box in storage.

“No need to replace that.” Santa nodded to the plate and Annie blanched. There, he’d done it again, invaded her head somehow.

“I didn’t invade,” he said mildly. “You left the door open.”

Braden sent Annie a look, like What was that all about?

She’d tell him later.

“And anyway”—Santa pointed to the cookie—“this is where the magic happens.”

“Huh?” Annie had completely missed something.

So, obviously, had Braden. “What did our store Santa mean by that?” he asked when Santa walked away. “And what was that invasion talk?”

“I have no idea,” she answered. “And I’ll tell you while we pick up.”

Braden set his hands on his duty belt and nodded toward the jewelry counter. “You were right about Quinn,” he said, sounding amazed. “I paid attention earlier when he paid for his purchase. The sales associate slid something into the bag that looked like a ring box.”

Annie stared out the front window at the blustery night. “Happy evening for them.”

Braden watched them walk away. “Assuming she says yes.”

Annie gasped, not having considered this. “I guess you’re right.”

“She probably will though.” He nodded knowingly. “I read their body language. They seem pretty tight.”

It was hard for Annie to imagine being that close to someone. Considering marriage. She met Braden’s eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. Maybe she just hadn’t met the right someone . Until now.

Braden rubbed his hands together. “What do you say? Should we clean this mess up?”

Annie flipped back her hair. “Only if we can go for coffee at the Blue Dot afterward?”

Braden smiled. “Lady, I’m definitely going out for coffee with you.”

Annie set her chin, feeling happy about that. “Good.”

Braden took out his cell phone. “And also,” he said casually, “can I have your number?”

Annie grinned cautiously. “You planning to call?”

He shrugged. “Text maybe? I mean, things could get dicey with both of us stuck in this time loop together. Might be good to reach out to a friend.”

Annie’s pulse pounded. “How do we know our phones will save the new contacts?”

He smiled. “How do we know that they won’t?”