Scrooge

35. Alexander

35

ALEXANDER

I walk around the penthouse, making a well-worn track on the carpet. What if she doesn't like it? What if it’s too much? I look up to the large bare tree that now almost hits my ceiling, the scent of pine strong in the air.

“Alex, I’m here!” she singsongs as she exits the elevator, and I down the whiskey in my hand and slide the empty glass across the kitchen counter, bracing myself. Christmas is her favorite holiday, decorating a tree one of her most prized things… She’s going to love it, right?

“You know it hasn’t stopped snowing since the afternoon. The sidewalks are starting to get some coverage.” She keeps talking excitedly, completely unaware of what’s behind her. I click a button on the remote in my hand, playing a Christmas carol through the speakers.

“Alex?” She says my name again, and I hear her shoes on the marble, walking toward the living room. I remain still, waiting.

“Alex? Oh… my… God…” Stopping short at the entry, her jaw has dropped. She was obviously too busy putting her jacket away to look up when she first came in.

“Do you like it?” I ask, as I pour two glasses of red wine, boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations at my feet. I had no idea what to get, so thankfully Laurent basically vomits Christmas every year, and I was able to get some delivered to me this afternoon.

“Like it?” she gasps, her eyes wide, still not moving. “I freaking love it!” Turning her head, she looks at me with a bright smile. One I’ll never tire of putting on her face. “This is insane…” Her eyes start to water. “You are insane.” As she walks toward me, I feel a swirl of pride for doing something nice for her. Something I know she loves and places a lot of emphasis on.

“Well, it is one of your favorite things to do for the holidays. I have the carols on, red wine, and I spoke to Mother Nature and got her to snow for you,” I say, smiling, as she falls into my embrace, and I breathe deeply for the first time all afternoon.

“I can’t believe you did this.” I hear her sniffle a little, and I wrap my arms around her tight. She buries her head into my chest and I kiss the top of it, her hair soft against my lips.

“I did it for you,” I tell her, and she pulls back, keeping close but looking up at me.

“Have you ever had a tree before?” she asks, knowing me too well.

“Never.”

“Wow, what a tree to start with. How did you even get this in here?” She looks between me and the tree like I really am crazy.

“Yeah… that was a bit difficult,” I murmur, rubbing the back of my head, not realizing exactly how stressful that would be. It took all afternoon, so while I worked, I had men here for hours, getting it inside and in place.

“Thank God, you are tall, because there is no way I can reach the top.” Resting her head back on my chest, she stares up at it in awe, and my heart swells three times the normal size for how I feel about her.

“I have a ladder,” I tell her, because she is right. This tree is just over ten feet tall, and we’ll need help. Running my hand down her arm, I feel the ring that still sits on her finger, and I grin.

“You ready?” I ask her, and she looks up at me with an eager nod before lifting onto her toes and kissing me. It takes everything in me to keep it PG when she moans softly against my lips.

Pulling back, she whispers, “Thank you for this,” and we grab our wine and walk over, ready to bring some festive cheer into the penthouse.

“Where do we start?” I ask, feeling overwhelmed with it all.

“Don’t think too hard about it. I think half the fun is just placing the ornaments on haphazardly; it makes the tree more unique,” Haylee says as she starts by grabbing the red and green ornaments and placing them on the branches. I follow her lead, putting them all a little higher, where she can’t reach, and we work in unison.

“Oh, look at this one!” Haylee says, and I look down to see her holding up a decoration. A novelty one.

“Really?” I say, rolling my eyes.

“What, it’s cute!” she says, laughing, the lights from the room bouncing off her eyes, making them shimmer.

“Laurent’s idea of a joke, I assume,” I grumble, pretending to be grumpy, yet in reality, I feel anything but.

“Well, I like it. I am going to put this one front and center.” She steps forward and hangs the decoration of Ebenezer Scrooge on the tree.

“What about this?” I say as I pull out an artist easel, a smile coming to my lips, liking the fact that Laurent put some thought into the decorations he purchased.

“I like Laurent. He has good taste,” she says, pleased with the decoration choice.

“He is something,” I murmur as we continue decorating the tree.

* * *

It takes us all night, but the tree is dazzling with colorful lights, Haylee grinning from ear to ear as she takes photos of the tree and sends them to her mom and sister.

The fire is on, the tree sparkling, red wine open on the kitchen counter, along with some take-out boxes from the Chinese we ate earlier. I have music playing, am sitting back relaxed, and my fiancée is happy. Though she might be tired, so am I. This is the happiest I’ve ever been. I know my father wouldn’t necessarily approve. He was always so tight with budgets and not one for holiday cheer, but I am not him, no matter how hard I try to be. I am just me.

I stand, setting down my wine as a slow Christmas song comes on. “Dance with me,” I say, and she looks up at me, surprised.

“Really?” she asks, a wide smile curving her lips.

“Yeah. Come here.” Stretching out my arm to her, she takes my hand, and I bring us to the middle of the room, and we start to sway.

“I didn’t peg you for a dancer,” she says softly as I wrap my arms around her, and she loops hers around my neck.

“Hmmmm, I’m not. But I really like having you in my arms, Haylee Tucker.” Dropping my head, I skirt my nose across hers.

“I like being in your arms, Alexander Jackson.” She says my full name, and I smile. She usually calls me Alex, which I now love.

We continue to sway, the music magical as the tree glistens and the fire warms us. The red wine is doing a great job of relaxing us both after a busy day. As she looks up into my eyes, I lean in and kiss her, needing another taste of her. Slowly, our lips move against the other’s, enjoying this moment and taking our time. I run my hand up and down her back, and she buries hers in my hair. I wonder how I got so fucking lucky to meet the girl of my dreams. When we come up for air, both of us in a daze, there are only three words ready to fall from my mouth.

“I lo—” I start to whisper against her lips, but before I can finish, I feel my cell. Vibrating in my trouser pockets, I try to ignore it. Nothing else matters to me right now. As we pull back from each other more fully, I put my lips to her forehead, and we continue to sway to the dulcet tones of the slow Christmas music. The words still linger at the forefront of my mind, ready to speak them into existence, but the moment is broken again as my cell rings once more. Someone’s persistent.

“You should get that,” Haylee says, smiling. “It might be important.”

“For reference, I’m going to fire whoever it is on the other end,” I grumble, not happy, but knowing she is right. It could be important, I suppose.

I pull out my vibrating cell, realizing it has been going crazy for the past few hours, but I didn’t want to indulge in it when trimming the tree. Now I see a few missed calls from Logan, along with a few messages.

Logan: Did you forget about our catchup?

“Shit,” I say under my breath.

“What's wrong?” Haylee turns immediately as I rub my eyes, totally forgetting that I had drinks scheduled with Logan tonight.

“I forgot about a catchup with my friend, Logan, at the bar down the street,” I say, feeling like shit.

“Well, is he still at the bar? We can go down now if he is still there?” she offers, and after thinking it over for a moment, I text him back. His response is swift.

“He is. Are you ready now? Are you sure you want to go?” I ask. My preference would be to curl up with my girl, have her arching her back and screaming my name, but I have put Logan off for weeks, and I know he will get pissy if I don’t see him soon. If she were to tell me she didn’t want to go, he’d just have to deal with it, though.

“Of course! Let’s go now, and we can come back and curl up together later,” she says, putting me at ease. We walk out, and I mentally promise to have her screaming my name at least two times tonight before we’re curling up together.