Snow Job (7 page)

“So say I’m walking through the store, and I see some shoes, and they remind me of my Aunt Til ie because her pork chops always tasted like shoe leather. But I don’t know her shoe size.”

Elyce giggled. “Okay, maybe gift cards are a better choice for you after al .”

“I’l get her a gift card to a shoe store.” Andrew had come around the desk to perch on the corner, his leg dangling from the edge inches away from where Elyce sat in his visitor’s chair. “Or maybe to a butcher shop, I don’t know.”

“Do you real y have an Aunt Til ie?” She felt a little flush rise in her cheeks, from nowhere, at the unexpected proximity. Andrew was usual y so cautious, so circumspect in his gestures. Elyce recal ed his impulsive kiss on their last date and had to struggle to keep herself composed at the sudden blush the memory brought with it.

“Yes, I real y have an Aunt Til ie. And she real y is a horrible cook. Elyce?”

“Mm?”

Andrew held a hand out and she took it automatical y, but then looked up at his face, startled. He was wearing the smile that she somehow liked best, the one with a tiny bit of smugness creeping through the placid veneer. Where had she seen a smirk like that, she wondered, that she found it instantly sexy? Andrew tugged her hand gently, pul ing her to her feet and pivoting on the desk until she was standing squarely between his legs.

“You don’t have your dog again for this Friday, right?”

“Right. I real y am sorry about—”

“Forget it. Just making sure. Because I’m leaving Saturday morning, pretty early, so we won’t see each other again until after the holidays…and I just thought it would be better if you didn’t have the dog Friday night.”

He had relinquished her hand only to wrap his fingers lightly around her waist, pul ing her a little closer until they were almost nose to nose. “I wil not have the dog on Friday night,” Elyce repeated, her own smile a bit smug, although of course she couldn’t see it. She was smug because he was interested. Stil , she wasn’t sure at al whether she was wil ing to let that interest play itself out ful y, for the first time, on the night before a two-week separation. Andrew would be in Il inois until after the New Year, visiting his family a g a i n. Elyce hadn’t mentioned her own travel plans specifical y, saying only that she hoped to get some skiing in.

Even as Andrew closed the final distance between them and lowered his lips to hers, Elyce wondered just why she hadn’t told him about the trip to Colorado. Half distracted by the thril that the kiss sent down to her toes, the surprisingly talented sweep of Andrew’s inquisitive tongue across her own, she stil felt a nagging sensation that she was committing an il icit act.

Not the trip with Karl, but the kiss with Andrew.

She felt like she was cheating, and once she had identified the feeling, she grew incensed at the idea that she stil felt so bound to Karl.

Slipping her hands up to Andrew’s face, she deepened their contact, kissing him back boldly, letting her body ride forward to rest squarely against his, feeling a primal satisfaction at the little suppressed groan her movement prompted from him.

By the time they parted, both were winded, worked up, in no fit state for the office. Elyce sat back down abruptly as Andrew retreated to the other side of his desk with a bemused, self-deprecating chuckle.

“And on that note, I’m afraid I have to mention that I actual y have another meeting in about fifteen minutes. So I real y, real y hope you don’t take this the wrong way but I real y need you to…to not be where I can see you or be tempted to touch you again, between now and then.”

“Love ‘em and make ‘em leave?” Elyce smiled back.

“That’s okay, I need to grab some lunch and get some things done back at work myself. I’l leave you to, um, compose yourself before your next meeting.”

Andrew couldn’t help an instinctive glance down at his lap, but then shifted his gaze instantly away with a rol of his eyes. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.” Looking a little slaphappy, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes firmly against the sight of her leaving. “But I’l see you Friday, right? Christmas shopping? No seafood, no dog?”

“No seafood, no dog. That can be our catchphrase from now on.”

“We have a catchphrase? That’s pretty serious.” He waved her out the door with another wide grin, and as she made her way down the street to catch the BART train back to her office, Elyce once again felt the giddy buoyancy that only a promising new relationship can bring.

* * * * *

It was already ful y dark by the time shopping commenced that Friday. Wel fortified from an early happy hour with heavy hors d’oeuvres, Elyce and Andrew made their way to Ghirardel i Square, stopping first to admire the Christmas tree before proceeding to investigate what the stores had to offer. Having learned that Andrew’s mother kept a much-pampered teacup Poodle—purchased specifical y to avoid triggering Andrew’s al ergies—Elyce steered him toward a high-end pet boutique on the Square.

With her encouragement and the eager assistance of the sales clerk, Andrew was able to assemble a respectable gift bag of Poodle-appropriate items, including a smart pink-and-green fleece jacket with matching leash and an assortment of organic doggie treats.

Pressing on, Elyce coached him in taking advantage, since he hadn’t already done so, of the fact that his family didn’t live in San Francisco. This meant they might actual y appreciate San Francisco-related merchandise such as music boxes, smal model cable cars and even charmingly rendered watercolors depicting various wel -known local scenes.

“It’s only cheating if you resort to doing it a second time.

The first time you give the touristy gifts, it’s perfectly acceptable,” Elyce insisted. “By limiting yourself to gift cards and books in the past, you’ve actual y left yourself this one-time opportunity. No point in not using it.”

“This is sort of fun,” Andrew admitted, holding up a carousel-horse music box that he thought one of his nieces might appreciate. “I’m actual y kind of looking forward to everyone opening presents. At least until the inevitable tears start.”

Not for the first time, Elyce wondered how much of his family drama was real and how much was simply exaggeration or even outright storytel ing on Andrew’s part.

But the shopping excursion
was
entertaining, particularly as she had no pressure of her own to find the perfect gift for anyone at the last minute.

With a cold shock, Elyce realized that in fact, she
did
have one more present to come up with.

Karl’s.

She had finished her shopping weeks ago but, not expecting to see him over the holidays, and not feeling especial y inclined to give him anything these days in any case, she had deliberately left him off her list. Now she wouldn’t be able to purchase him a last-minute gift without engaging in some sort of subterfuge or flat-out lying to Andrew, which she wasn’t wil ing to do.

Resolving that she would simply have to find something after they had arrived in Breckenridge, she directed her mind back to the task at hand, which was helping Andrew finish his own shopping before the stores closed for the evening.

* * * * *

Elyce would wonder afterward why she hadn’t invited Andrew in. He’d expected her to, she knew. And in fact, she had original y intended to do so.

They had driven back to her house just a little before ten o’clock, unusual y early, with the unspoken agenda for the rest of the evening quite clear between them. But at some point, either on the drive itself or possibly even when they were standing on her doorstep with the key already in the lock, some subtle shift took place in Elyce’s mindset.

Instead of turning, letting Andrew open the door and kiss her into the house, Elyce kept her own hand on the doorknob and cleared her throat awkwardly.

“I know you have an early flight tomorrow. And I have some work to do, actual y. I think an early night is probably a good idea for both of us.” She tried not to sound apologetic but knew a tinge of it crept into her voice. Hard to come across as bright and breezy when your would-be lover’s face has just fal en with disappointment in that way.

“Oh. Wel , okay. But is something wrong? Because I thought—”

“No,” she rushed to reassure Andrew. “There’s nothing wrong. Real y.” Elyce tried to think of a plausible excuse, a task made more difficult because she real y had no idea why she was turning him away. “It’s just, you know, you’re about to go away for two weeks.”

“I’m going home for Christmas,” he reasoned. “It’s not like love ‘em and leave ‘em.”

His attempt to rationalize his way into her bed only irritated Elyce, firming her resolve further. She understood his disappointment, but she didn’t want to succumb in that mood.

“That reminds me,” she said. “I have your present in my car, I keep forgetting to give it to you.” Taking the opportunity to step away from the door with some relief, Elyce pul ed her keys free and chirped the remote to unlock her car. The present, a cashmere scarf, was already wrapped, albeit just in a gift bag. He accepted it from her with an awkward smile.

“I, uh, didn’t get you anything. I’m sorry, I knew we wouldn’t be seeing much of each other over the holiday itself, and I just…”

After the fact, it gave her further justification for sending him home. The realization that he hadn’t thought to get her anything gave her a hol ow and unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I see.” With a little frown and a calculated tilt of her head, she contemplated him, gauging his reaction. “Wel , I guess I assumed we’d be exchanging. But it’s al right.

Open it when you get home, okay? I real y do need to turn in.”

“I thought you said you needed to get some work done.”

“Right. And then I need to turn in. But thank you for a wonderful evening. I real y enjoyed it. And I hope you have a great flight tomorrow. You’l cal me from Il inois, won’t you?”

Feeling more and more sure that she was making the right decision, Elyce brushed her lips against Andrew’s cheek and let herself into the house with a final “Good night”

before he could protest further.

A few minutes passed before she heard the gravely sounds of his car doing the necessary three-point turn and leaving her driveway.

* * * * *

The tinny music of her cel phone jolted Elyce awake some time later, and she looked around her with surprise, feeling disoriented for a moment. She was lying across her bed sideways, surrounded by stacks of neatly folded clothing and a few garments on hangers strewn across the coverlet. Her normal sleeping position was made impossible by the half-packed suitcase that lay open across the foot of the bed.

Trying to recal where she’d left her purse, Elyce ventured into the living room, only to locate the phone when it rang again with the single, lingering tril that told her she had a voice-mail message.

Ignoring the message, she grabbed the phone in a panic and scrol ed to her missed-cal list, suddenly fearing that a family member was in some dire distress. Surely there must be a good reason for someone to cal at…

eleven o’clock? Was it real y only eleven o’clock? Elyce recognized Karl’s number then and froze, unsure whether to cal him back. Final y curiosity won out, and she punched the button to dial with just a shiver of trepidation.

“Oh, you’re there. Or are you? Are you home or stil out?”

“Hel o to you too. Yes, I’m home. What’s going on? Is everything al right?”

A flicker of static clouded Karl’s response, but not enough to hamper understanding. “—thought we could pre-pack the—get an early start. I’m in the neighborhood—drop by, in about five—?”

“Five minutes? You’re breaking up, Karl, I don’t know if I heard that right. You want to come here five minutes from now?” She retraced her steps, hoping to find better reception in the bedroom.

“Yes, and pack the truck,” he said loudly over the interference. “Okay?”

She thought for a moment and then shrugged. “Fine.

See you in a few minutes.”

His answer was lost to poor reception and she final y snapped her phone shut as the cal disconnected. Five minutes. And she stil needed to finish packing.

Elyce bit her lip and looked at the stacks of clothes on her bed, trying to make her final decisions about what she needed to bring, aware that she would most likely miss something crucial as it seemed she always did. She sometimes thought she could plot each trip to the Nashes’

winter retreat by what she had neglected to bring, and then had to either purchase on the trip or get by without. The trip she had bought a new toothbrush, the trip she had made do with only two pairs of long underwear…

The trip she had forgotten her cosmetics bag, which contained her package of birth control pil s, and she and Karl had made love anyway and it had been achingly sweet. She’d been relieved but also mildly disappointed afterward that no pregnancy resulted. But not disappointed enough to remain off the Pil . She’d had a career to consider, after al , and their original plan hadn’t cal ed for starting their family right away.

“Were you just down the driveway?” Elyce asked when she opened the door for Karl approximately four minutes later. Her suitcase was packed and waiting alongside her ski gear, which she’d already set by the door some time earlier.