Mistletoe on 34th Street Page 19

  I gasped at Jon and held my Monopoly money to my chest. ‘How dare you suggest such a thing – I earned this fair and square. It’s not my fault you’re the worst estate agent in New York City.’

  Abigail laughed and popped another star-shaped mini-pretzel in her mouth. I was pleased to see that she’d loosened up a bit after a couple of glasses of red wine, and for once she seemed to genuinely be having fun without thoughts of her long-lost love clouding her.

  Dee looked up from where she was leaning against Ian’s legs. ‘Guilty until proven innocent. Show us how many hundred-dollar notes you have in that pile.’

  ‘I don’t have to show you anything,’ I protested. Jon lunged at me, grasping for my wad of cash and I fell back, laughing and holding it away from him as best I could, while feeling acutely aware of our close proximity right now. My laughing died down and I blushed, turning my head from him, before being saved by the bell.

  ‘That’s Elijah,’ I breathed, struggling out from under Jon and walking briskly to the door without looking back.

  ‘Oh, Elijah,’ chuckled Carl. ‘I forgot he was coming, did you, Jon?’

  I didn’t turn to see what Jon’s reaction was. I think I already knew.

  Elijah greeted me with a swift kiss and then looked around him with a whistle. ‘Now this place is sweet. My place is like, a hundred times smaller, but small is cosy.’ He grinned at me. ‘Hey, what are you all doing?’

  ‘Playing Monopoly,’ answered Abigail, far braver to speak up after a couple of glasses of wine. ‘You want to join in?’

  ‘Geez, how bored are you guys? I thought you were having a party!’

  ‘We’re near the end – I’m winning,’ I said, and rolled the dice … and landed straight on the ‘Go to jail’ square.

  There was whooping all around and Jon cheered. ‘Get in the slammer, you dirty thieving wench, I bloody knew it!’

  ‘I am innocent, this is a conspiracy, you’re all just jealous of my fame and wealth.’ I was so not innocent; I’d been sticking my sticky fingers in the bank money for five turns of the board.

  ‘What will you give me for my get-out-of-jail-free card?’ asked Jon, and I laughed him off, embarrassed.

  ‘I don’t need your charity; I’ll be fine serving my time.’

  Elijah nuzzled into my neck and purred, a little loudly, ‘I knew you were a bad bitch.’

  I cringed and pulled away, blushing at the brief look Dee and Abigail gave each other. I couldn’t look at Jon. ‘Shhh, these are my colleagues,’ I hissed, sounding more annoyed than I intended to. ‘Let me get you a drink.’

  We put aside the Monopoly board for now and someone cranked the Christmas music up a little. Elijah was wandering about the living room and I suddenly felt uneasy. Elijah seemed great – trustworthy, kind, yummy as hell, but I didn’t really know him and I felt bad about inviting him into someone else’s home.

  Jon caught me keeping an eye on Elijah from the kitchen, and he immediately went over to him and struck up a conversation. I tried to lip-read the conversation, praying that Jon wouldn’t mention Tiffany’s, because, well it would just be a bit awkward to explain, wouldn’t it? Not that Elijah deserved any kind of explanation – we barely knew each other – but I’d just feel better if the two of them were separate. I was about to go on in and break them up, but Jon appeared to be trying to be polite, with a fixed smile and arms folded across his chest, and Elijah was smiling. Perhaps they were getting on?

  A few drinks in, ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’ blasting from the stereo, and everyone was getting in the Christmas spirit. Dee and Ian were showing off their jive moves (they’d been taking classes together!) in the middle of the living room, while Carl, Jon and Abigail were laughing at a handful of jokes they’d stolen from inside the box of Christmas crackers. As for me, I was just trying to keep an iota of professionalism around my colleagues when what I really wanted to do was continue with that kiss Elijah and I started last night. And the night before.

  Instead we sat close, talking, laughing, looking at each other’s lips. He rested his hand on my upper thigh and I couldn’t think about anything else. Well, almost nothing else. I really really really really wanted to climb onto his pe—

  The doorbell buzzed and I stood up quicker than a jack-in-the-box and rushed over to the door, signalling for someone to turn down the music.

  ‘Hello?’ I spoke into the intercom.

  ‘Hey, this is Jay and Adam and Frankie, Merry Christmas!’ said a male voice with a slow, Southern-drawl accent.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘We’re here to see Elijah.’

  I turned back to Elijah. ‘Did you invite some people over?’

  ‘Yeah, you said we were having a party. That’s OK, right?’

  I hesitated. ‘I don’t think it is. This isn’t our apartment; I don’t think we should invite more people in, especially people I don’t know.’

  Elijah laughed. ‘You are such a goody-goody.’

  ‘Yep, yes I am.’ I stood firm. ‘How about we head somewhere else though?’ Maybe somewhere away from my colleagues, and from Jon, so I didn’t feel so exposed.

  ‘Yes,’ Elijah agreed, a little too emphatically. ‘Finally. Let’s go down to this bar near my place, it has a club attached that we can go to later. It’s called X & Y. You’ll like it; it’s very New York, very Christmassy, all that shit.’

  ‘Let’s all go,’ said Jon, standing up, not taking his eyes off Elijah.

  ‘No, really, Jon, you guys stay and have fun.’

  ‘I want to go clubbing,’ he said, sounding really convincing.

  ‘Yes, let’s go to a bar and a club and dance!’ whooped Abigail. ‘I’ll call Jasmine; she might want to join us … Nope, no answer.’

  I was thankful she wasn’t coming, but I really should check in with her tomorrow, just to make sure she was OK.

  ‘Hellooooooooooo,’ called Jay through the intercom.

  Elijah leant past me and spoke to Jay. ‘Change of plan. We’re coming down and going to head back to X & Y.’

  ‘Sweet. The neighbours here think I’m trying to rob them.’

  So off we went, travelling on the subway downtown with Elijah and his friends, who were nice enough, and all dressed similarly to him, but seemed utterly uninterested in knowing our names.

  We arrived at X, the bar-side of the complex, and went down into a basement area that was filled with loud music and plenty of liquor. It didn’t feel very New York, or very Christmassy, and as hot as Elijah was I was beginning to wish he cared more about what I wanted to do, especially since I was here for such a short amount of time.

  I sighed. That wasn’t fair, I was being a brat. We were different people and he was just showing me his favourite places – it wasn’t his fault they weren’t living up to my ideals of ‘real New York’.

  I broke out of my mild funk when Jon brashly ordered a round of shots, which was unlike him. Perhaps this would loosen us both up? But then something else arrived to put a smile on his face …

  ‘Is there one for me?’ asked a female voice and we all turned. ‘Hey, guys!’

  It was Dani, who waved at the table, and Jon stood to embrace her and offer her his seat. Elijah’s friends perked up at the addition of this unrivalled hottie, and she was immediately swamped with introductions and jokes and questions.

  ‘Hi, Dani,’ I called across the table. I didn’t know Jon and she hung out outside work.

  Dani faced me, big smile. ‘Olivia, you look great. I know you’re probably all worried about getting home, but I was so pleased when Jon said you were stuck here for a few days because then I get to see you again!’

  She was so infuriatingly nice. I really liked her, so the fact I didn’t welcome the sight of her was odd. I’d never been one to feel threatened by another woman just because she was attractive. Good for her! Maybe I was just getting tipsyyyyy. I reached over and gave her a huge hug as an apology for the affronted thoughts I’d had about her in my mind
that she didn’t know about anyway, and she laughed and hugged me back.

  Jon seemed more occupied with her there, all leaning in and draping his arm on the back of her chair and smiling while she talked. I was focusing on Elijah, I really was, but I kept catching snippets of Jon and Dani’s conversations.

  ‘Have you been here before?’ Jon was asking her.

  ‘You mean, “Do I come here often?”’ she teased back, and laughed her infectious laugh, running a hand down Jon’s arm. ‘I’ve been once or twice. Thanks for the invite.’

  ‘I’m glad you could make it; I know it was pretty last minute.’

  I dragged myself back to my own present. It was good they had each other to talk to, and that they’d all but forgotten me. It meant I could pay attention to Elijah without feeling like I was being watched.

  A few drinks later and Elijah led us all down a corridor to Y, the nightclub. The club had no windows and the darkness was only tolerable because of the pools of amber light that swam like fire over sweaty arms, close kissing and a rock band that occupied a small stage at the front of this sweat fest.

  Elijah leaned in and bellowed something in my ear that sounded like ‘These are my buddies’ but could just have easily been ‘Here are my bunnies’ or ‘Sneeze on my nuddies’. We all moved into the dance-floor area and drifted into whatever pockets of space we could find. Dee, Ian, Carl and Abigail stayed together, rocking away like the funny drunken fools they were, and Jon danced close to Dani. They kept grinning at each other, and laughing every time one was moshed in the back and they tumbled against each other. Not that I was paying attention, of course.

  The band was loud and rocky, and the noise filled my ears so entirely that I couldn’t have heard Elijah even if he had been trying to talk to me. Instead we kept our eyes on each other and in the middle of the crowd our bodies, along with everyone else’s, pulsed to the heady sound of the guitar.

  He moved closer to me and we danced facing each other, skin and bones. I could feel my forehead perspire in the heat and it began to not matter where I was in the world: I was right here in this moment.

  Elijah leant in incredibly close and we danced for a moment with our foreheads almost touching. I watched his lips, willing them on me, heat radiating from both of us. Without a word he trickled his hand down my arm, took my hand and we both exited the crowd, moving to the darker edge of the room. I looked back at Jon, I don’t know why, and there he was: kissing Dani. His hands were cupping her face. She held onto his back.

  Oh. Well, how could he not have been attracted to her? Look at her. I don’t know why I was being so silly. Jon was my friend and I was pleased he was having fun. Really, I was. Dani was nice. And though I thought he’d had feelings for me I’d been adamant I hadn’t had the same feelings for him. So now I was free to be with Elijah … not that I ever hadn’t been.

  Elijah. No more Jon. Elijah.

  Still no words were exchanged but he and I moved to a position where my back was to the wall, and he covered me like a blanket, pressing against my body, which in turn pressed against the cool brickwork. We kissed, slow, fast, hard, soft, breathing each other in.

  It was the middle of winter but I was on fire. I ran a hand up his back and through his hair, but he took my arms and pinned them above my head. I felt drunk. Things were blurry but perfect.

  ‘Do you want to get out of here? I live right around the corner.’

  Part of me didn’t want to break the intoxicating spell of being here, in this hot, amber glow, the music guiding my mind and body, but another part of me definitely wanted to keep going, keep moving, and get out of here with him.

  I caught Dee’s eye and waved, and she nodded back – we understood each other. I didn’t look back at Jon.

  We exited the club and the cold air and wet snow hit us with surprise. I was so hot and sticky that for a moment I’d felt I could have been in a club in Cuba and had all but forgotten it was just days from Christmas, and we were in New York. The chill cooled my perspiration rapidly and silently Elijah pulled me in under his coat and we raced around the block.

  Under the wing of his leather jacket I smelled his smoky aftershave and his sweat (which I know doesn’t sound sexy but in that moment I was all about the animal instincts). His slim, hard body pressed against mine and my fingers could feel the ripples of his sides through his shirt. He smiled at me.

  His apartment block was smaller than Lara’s, dirtier, and you went in through a back alley, but I felt safe with Elijah, and when he unlocked his door I barely noticed the size or look of his place because I didn’t want to keep my hands off him any longer.

  We kissed and he slammed the door shut behind me, and I curled my fingers up under his hair, pushing his face deeper into mine in the dark. He pressed me against the wall again – his signature move? – and trailed his hands and his kisses down my neck and chest.

  I pushed him away and turned to face the wall, leaning my hands against it. ‘Undo my dress,’ I instructed. He obliged, his hands pulling down the zip and then resting on my hips, and his mouth showering my back with rough kisses. I wanted this, my body needed this.

  ‘I knew it,’ he growled.

  ‘Knew what?’ I said, turning to face him and pulling the straps of my dress down, revealing my bra. He straightened up and cupped one of my breasts while leaning in for another kiss.

  ‘That you were a dirty little whore at heart.’

  Um. ‘What?’ I pulled my head back.

  Elijah grinned and stepped in closer, pressing his body against mine. I ignored my flicker of doubt and let him kiss me again – so he liked to talk dirty? All right, mister, but on my terms. I pulled my lips away and did one of those breathy exhales in his ear like in a Britney song. ‘I’m going to ride you like an escalator,’ I purred. (Now, what I was going for here was ‘ride you like an elevator’, but at the very last second my British brain wanted to say ‘lift’ which is a far less sexy word, so I did a quick switcheroo and ended up at escalator).

  ‘Oh, you want it,’ Elijah said, his hands exploring, and another tiny surge of unwelcome annoyance went through me. Yes, I think we’ve established that, you’re not some woman-whisperer who’s figured out my naughty little secret.

  ‘You want it,’ I countered.

  ‘Feminist, my ass, you’re begging for it, you sexy little whore.’

  ‘WHAT?’ Enough. That doubt was more than a flicker now, and I pushed him away from me. ‘Did you actually just call me a whore – twice – and say I wasn’t a feminist because I like sex?’

  Elijah’s come-to-bed eyes remained and he drew back closer to me with a laugh.

  ‘No, wait a minute – do you think women should not want, or like, sex?’

  ‘Of course they should … ’ His hands covered me again but it didn’t feel sexy any more.

  ‘But if they do, they’re not feminists, is that right? They’re whores?’

  This time he stopped and stood back, exasperated. ‘Come on, babe, you can’t stand there and pretend you don’t need a man when you’re basically pleading with me to sleep with you.’

  I pulled my dress back up and my loins turned to ice quicker than you could say ‘Baby, it’s cold outside’. ‘What do you think a feminist is, exactly?’ I demanded.

  He shrugged, and suddenly in that moment, with his shirt open and his penis deflating, he looked less like a sexy, scruffy rock god and more like a naughty boy who hadn’t washed for a few days. ‘Someone who thinks women are better than men?’

  I was lost for words, and while I tried to find them again I also gathered my things up from the floor of his titchy, crappy little apartment. ‘No,’ I stated. ‘Nope, that isn’t it at all. It’s someone who believes men and women are equal, and if you were a real man, you would believe that too.’ Like Jon does. The thought entered my head, unbidden. Like Jon does.

  ‘I do think that … ’ he said, lamely.

  ‘No you don’t,’ I sighed. ‘You think a woman is a whore i
f she likes sex. But you don’t think a man is a whore, do you? Newsflash, a sex worker is the last person who is actually likely to enjoy doing you. Thicky.’

  Elijah lit a cigarette, trying to wrap his head around what was happening. I was pretty sure he’d be calling me ‘crazy’ to his friends tomorrow. I looked him up and down, straightened my bra, and tossed my hair back from my face. ‘Well guess what, Elijah, I love sex. I love it and I’m good at it and I don’t need the lights out, or for you to pretend you don’t see my cellulite. I’m great at sex, but oops – you missed out.’

  ‘Wait a minute, O, no need to be all crazy and storm out of here.’

  There it was – crazy. ‘Goodbye, Elijah. And I hope this is how you remember me: not begging for it, but walking away from you. This is what a feminist looks like.’

  And I left the building with not even a parting Merry Christmas for him and his shocked, sulking face. It was the last time I saw him.

  Back out on the street, in the dark, with plump snowflakes falling on my head and Christmas decorations behind the glass of people’s windows, I felt, oh, very alone. This is what I wanted though, wasn’t it? To be alone, to have everyone go away and not bother me until I was ready? I got out my phone and called Dee’s number. A tear escaped my eye and I wiped it away in anger.

  ‘Hello?’ Dee answered, shouting over music.

  ‘It’s Olivia,’ I answered, trying to control my wobbling voice. ‘Are you guys still at Y?’

  ‘Liv? I can’t hear you very well. We’re still in Y, but we were thinking of heading home soon. Where are you? Where’s Elijah?’

  ‘I’m going to come home with you all, OK? Can you meet me outside in like … ’ Another tear plopped out. Dammit. ‘ … in five to ten minutes?’

  ‘Sure, see you in a mo, hun.’

  I hung up and crouched on the ground, putting my head in my arms. I had to pull it together, I didn’t want them all to see me like this – I’d already made a fool out of myself and crossed the professional line by hooking up with someone on a work trip. I was an idiot.

  I became aware of somebody pacing back and forth past me, muttering. ‘Sexy bitch, sexy bitch, hello, sexy bitch.’