Winner - Round 6
Home for Christmas
Author: Lindsay
Category: AU, no aliens. Max/Liz
Rating: Mature – just to be safe.
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell belong to The WB, Melinda Metz, and UPN. No infringement intended.
Summary: A little holiday fluff. I know…it’s been awhile, lol.
Author’s note: PLEASE READ!! >>> Hey guys! This one is coming a little early in the season! I've written this as a challenge on another board, and sort of wanted to give it a test drive, so to speak, before it's time to post it there.
It's already completed and is only three parts, so don't worry about waiting long periods of time before updates. As I post this, I'm working on finishing my other three AU fics, so no worries on that front either. In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy and feedback would be much appreciated, as always!<center>Home for Christmas</center>
From Home to home,
And heart to heart,
From one place to another.
The warmth and joy of Christmas,
Brings us closer to each other.
-A Christmas proverb
<center>Part One</center>
“Ho, Ho, Ho!”
Elizabeth Parker bit back a wince, forced a smile and nodded towards the boisterous man in a red suit. Her tenth Santa sighting of the hour. Automatically, she pulled out a fistful of bills from her purse and dropped them into the bag marked Toys that hung from the man’s beefy arm.
“Merry Christmas to you, ma’am!” She caught a glimpse of a smile through the snowy beard that covered him from nostrils to neck. Brown eyes crinkled at the corners and he winked before lifting a hand and ringing the bell in his hand, turning to address another passerby. “Ho, Ho, Ho!”
Liz shook her head, but her previously gloomy mood had lessened by the time she reached the storefront windows that glittered with frost and holiday decorations. She paused for a minute, studying the cheerful faces and laughing voices that swept past her as strangers carried on with their last minute Christmas shopping.
The smile faded from her lips as a beautiful woman squealed in excitement, throwing her arms around the broad shoulders of a handsome chestnut-haired man who caught her mouth in a passionate kiss. They made quite the picture, wrapped completely in one another as flakes of snow framed them against the backdrop of the town’s Christmas tree.
Tears stung her eyes and she quickly brushed them away with the back of a mittened hand, forcing her gaze away before envy could take hold. It wasn’t this couple’s fault that she wasn’t capable of finding love. Or keeping it. It was the damn holiday season, making everyone yearn for things they didn’t normally want or need the rest of the year.
She closed her eyes wearily, trying unsuccessfully to block the memory of Blair’s parting words as he’d collected his belongings from their…her apartment only hours earlier. They echoed through her mind, along with the familiar pain and frustration.
“You never let anyone in, Liz. I need intimacy, not this sham that we’re living. How can you expect me not to go looking for it?”
How, indeed. She supposed he’d found it all right, and shared it in their bed with the perky blonde woman he’d picked up only God knew where. She didn’t let anyone in?? Well, she had her damn reasons, as Blair had consequently proven.
Forcing thoughts of her ex out of her mind, she pushed open the door that led to a small bar where she could smell the tempting scents of hot cocoa and other holiday goodies. A bell attached to the door tinkled, announcing her entry as she was greeted by a blast of comfortable warmth. Rubbing her hands together, her gaze traveled over the semi-crowded room until she found an empty chair near the window.
Making her way over, she began unraveling the thick scarf from around her neck and pulling off her coat and gloves. She heaped them all in the empty chair opposite from where she sat, gifting herself with a wonderful view of the park across the way where people spent the winter months ice-skating. She was mentally applauding a young girl’s attempt at a double axle when a shadow fell across the table. She looked up and was met with a pair of warm eyes that twinkled back at her.
She did a double take, blinking as she ran her gaze down the attached body. And oh, what a body it was. Broad, muscled shoulders that couldn’t be hidden beneath a cream-colored fisherman’s sweater. The sleeves were pushed past tanned elbows, revealing a set of powerful forearms. Lower her gaze went, noting the utilitarian white apron that hung just below his abdomen. It covered him from fly to mid-thigh and should have looked ridiculous, but it couldn’t take away from his sheer masculinity.
“Hi there,” a husky voice rumbled, and she flicked her gaze back up to his in mortification. His lips were curved in a faintly amused grin that sent her heart skipping even as she chastised herself for even reacting. God, had she not just broken up with Blair that morning? She really did not need to be sitting here, drooling over a complete stranger.
When she made no reply, his brow shot up and he shifted his weight to one foot, propping a hip against the table as he regarded her. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” he teased innocently, but she stiffened.
“No,” she snapped, completely flustered as she brushed a hand through the bangs that hung across her brow. God, he was too gorgeous. Too everything. And completely unlike any of the men she was usually attracted to. She’d always preferred softer, gentler men. Artists. Teachers. This man looked like he ate bricks for breakfast.
She snuck another wary glance from beneath her hair. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as tall as she’d first imagined, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in sheer being. He was what her best friend Maria referred to as “pumped out the fucking kazoo”, whatever the hell that meant. With Maria, anything was possible, but somehow she knew this man fit the bill. His hair was thick and black, curling slightly at the nape of his neck and around his ears. His eyes were the color of aged brandy and had the same effect on her. And his mouth…
She suddenly realized he’d spoken and was waiting for a reply. Blinking rapidly and feeling more than a little put out considering the circumstances, she answered as eloquently as she could manage. “Huh?”
He let out a chuckle that sent shivers rippling through her body. Leaning forward, he brought their faces close together as her eyes widened in shock. And anticipation? She caught the faint scent of spice emanating from his flesh as he parted his lips to breathe, “I asked if there was anything special I could get for you?”
She resisted the urge to sigh. Not breaking their gaze, she replied in a voice far more pert than her usual tone, “A cup of hot chocolate.” Realizing just how rude she’d sounded, she added, “Please.”
He didn’t move for a moment or two, then smiled. “Hot chocolate, coming up.” He winked – God did his lashes have to be so thick?? – then offered her a salute before turning and heading back towards the front counter. She tried not to watch him go, but it was hard to drag her eyes away from the tight fit of his woolen pants.
When he looked over his shoulder and caught her staring, a flirtatious smile curved his lips and he inclined his head in acknowledgement. She blushed furiously and turned quickly to stare out of the window, hearing his soft laughter inside her mind.
<center>***</center>
Faith Hill’s throaty twang drifted through the room, singing of roasting chestnuts over an open fire. Behind the bar Max Evans grinned, thinking that sounded pretty damn good to him. He hummed along under his breath while spraying a thick layer of whipped cream on top of the rich chocolate he’d just poured. A bit of the sweet confection fell onto his hand and he glanced around innocently before bringing his finger to his mouth. The cool foam melted immediately on his tongue and he sighed in appreciation as only a true sugar lover could.
He was shaking chocolate sprinkles and cinnamon into the mug when a hand slapped his back. “You’re late,” he spoke cheerfully, not bothering to glance over as the other person rounded the bar and reached for an apron. “Let me guess, hot date?”
The only answer he received was a long whistle. He looked up and saw Kyle Valenti making the gesture of running his hands down a shapely female body, wiggling his brows devilishly. Max could only laugh. “It would serve you right if she stuck around, buddy,” he tossed out the familiar warning to his playboy pal. “One of these days…”
“No way, no how, Evans,” Kyle denied impishly. “I’m not looking to burn the home fires, I’m looking to burn up the sheets.” He tied the apron around his waist, making eyes at a table full of local women who giggled and preened beneath the notice of his friend’s playful gaze.
Max shook his head, deciding it was time for a subject change. “Why don’t you have them sign up for the contest?” he suggested, putting the final touches on a perfect cup of hot chocolate. He was aware that most people wouldn’t realize there was a such thing as a perfect cup of hot chocolate, but then Max took pride in everything he did. Including spraying cream and shaking sprinkles.
The art of making and mixing drinks was more than just a job for him. He loved it, pure and simple. He’d bartended through college, gaining much needed onhand experience before he’d managed to do the unthinkable and open his own bar at the age of twenty-five. He’d chosen the small-town of Telluride, Colorado to set up shop after having fallen in love with it on sight during a cross-country vacation his graduation year.
He’d made friends with the locals easily, using all the charm and good humor he’d been blessed with to make his dream happen. And he’d succeeded, two years later. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t completely his bar…in fact, it belonged to him and two of the friends he’d made since coming to town. But they all knew it was Max’s baby, Max who loved every single brick and every single tile nearly as much as he loved his own family.
“You know what, I might just do that,” Kyle drawled in answer, rolling his shoulders and plastering a wide grin on his face as he strolled towards the group of women. Max couldn’t hold back the chuckle as he watched his friend flirt with the females, motioning towards the sign that announced the first annual Secret Santa contest at To-Hell-You-Ride Bar and Café. As always, the little play on words for the town he adored made him smile. The locals loved the name, too, a common catch phrase that spoke of the boisterousness of the 1880's mining town.
His gaze traveled past Kyle and his admiring women and landed on the lone figure seated by the window. As it had before, everything inside of him perked up with interest. And he meant everything. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so attracted to a woman he’d barely even spoken to. All it had taken was a single stroke of the woman’s pretty brown eyes and he’d nearly gone up in flames. It had been a miracle he’d managed to find his voice.
As if feeling his burning gaze, she glanced up and their eyes met. Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink as she glanced down at her hands and pretended to study her nails. Oh yeah, he was definitely interested. He grabbed a napkin and balanced the chocolate on a tray along with a few gourmet cinnamon sticks tied in holiday colors of red and green ribbon.
The closer he came, the more agitated she appeared. It was painfully obvious she was trying not to look at him and he momentarily wondered if he’d only imagined the reciprocating awareness in her eyes. He stopped beside her table and waited. When she finally glanced back up at him, he could see the rigid control she used to keep her expression blank. Even as he wondered at the reason why, he offered her a friendly smile.
“Hope this warms you up some, weather’s pretty rough today.” He slid the drink in front of her, watched as she took a deep inhalation of the sweet aroma. Her face lit up and she immediately dipped a finger into the mug, scooping out some cream and sucking it into her mouth. He fought not to groan as her tongue came out to lick her ripe lips clean.
“Thank you,” she answered sincerely, completely unaware of the havoc she was wreaking on his self-control. Thank God he was wearing an apron. And if Kyle had been privy to that thought, he’d never hear the end of it.
He smiled again and nudged the cinnamon sticks closer, glancing over to see Kyle working the bar in his absence. His friend shot him a raised-browed expression, his eyes flicking to where the woman sat, sipping at the hot chocolate, then he looked back at Max and wiggled his brows and gave him a wide grin. He all but yelled, “Go for it, dude!”
Max flushed darkly and ignored the thumbs up sign his friend gave him, waiting for the brunette to once again lift her gaze to his. When it happened, he was struck by just how lovely she really was. Her beauty wasn’t classic like the women he normally sought. She was more…natural. Earthy. Gorgeous without the trimmings. Her face was devoid of makeup, treating him to a view of her tawny complexion, and she wore only the barest hint of gloss on her full lips. Her eyes were wide and almond shaped, the same color as the chocolate that slid down her throat. Perfectly shaped brows winged over her lids, partially hidden by a fringe of that dark, gorgeous wealth of hair that shone in the dim lighting of the café. It fell to her shoulders and was wind-tousled as if she’d forgotten to wear a hat. He found himself experiencing the urge to run his fingers through it, yearning to tuck the wayward strands behind her ears and steal a touch of that soft looking flesh.
“I didn’t order this.” Her voice penetrated his lust-filled daze and he met her unblinking stare. She nodded towards the cinnamon sticks and repeated, “I didn’t order those.”
It took him a moment to get the words to come out, and when they did his voice sounded thick and husky to his own ears. “They’re on the house.” He cleared his throat discreetly, glanced at the clock hanging above the bar, and decided to take a chance.
He began untying his apron and shot her his most amiable grin, pretending not to notice the way her eyes widened. “Do you mind if I join you? I’m up for a break and well, it’s always nice to have company.” Especially someone as gorgeous as you, he added silently, wondering if she’d bite the lure.
She nodded slowly, and he didn’t know which one of them was more surprised by her acceptance. Before she could open her mouth and take back her first reaction, he dragged a nearby chair away from an empty table and smoothly slid in next to her. Their thighs brushed and he felt a burst of heat before she quickly pulled away.
“Are you new in town?” he began with standard conversation, keeping his voice friendly and his smile open.
“Why?” she questioned so suspiciously his lips twitched. She’d stopped drinking her chocolate, was fiddling with the ribbon on a set of cinnamon sticks and watching him like a rabbit would a fox.
He shrugged easily, leaning back and stretching out his legs beneath the table. “No reason, I’ve just never seen you around.”
She seemed pacified by this response and hitched her shoulders. “I’ve only been here a short time. In fact, this is the first I’ve ever left home and I’m just now starting to get used to it…” She trailed off and became silent as if she’d revealed too much.
“Where’s home?” he asked softly, noting the lonely glint in her eye. “And I’m Max, by the way. Max Evans. I promise I’m not a weird stalker-psychopath or anything like that…just a bartender who likes hearing stories.”
That seemed to get a hesitant smile out of her. “So bartenders are exempt from being psychopaths?”
“Well now, I don’t really know.” He pretended to ponder it over and was disrupted by the sound of glasses breaking and Kyle’s loudly uttered, “Oh, hell! Christ on a crutch on Palm Sunday! Die, you sonofabitch!” His friend began beating the defenseless cappuccino maker with a wooden spoon.
The nearby women began to giggle over his aggravated antics and Max glanced over to see his female companion reluctantly smiling and giving him a pointed look. He grinned weakly. “Okay…so maybe one or two of us is.”
This got a laugh out of her and she licked her lips before admitting, “I’m Liz Parker.”
“Liz.” He tested it out, decided it fit. And told her so. When she blushed, he grinned, thinking just how much he liked being the one to make her do so. And how he’d like to see that flush appear for different reasons…and thinking like that was definitely going to give him a boner, so he needed a subject change and fast.
“So let me guess where you’re from,” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he studied her closely. “No discernible accent, no apparent style—”
“Thanks a lot!” she laughed in affront, running a hand down her red fleece sweater with a pouty expression.
“No, no,” he was quick to correct himself until he caught the twinkling mischief in her eyes. He laughed sheepishly and inclined his head to her. “Score one for the out-of-towner.”
“Score two,” she returned. “Or have you forgotten the psychopath?”
“Quick wit,” he noted with a raised brow. “All in all, Ms. Parker, I’d say you’re a genuine mystery.” And one he couldn’t wait to solve.
She giggled and bit her lip shyly, picking up the steaming cocoa and sipping lightly. Foam clung to her upper lip and she dabbed it away with the napkin, her cheeks flushed. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t stop himself. He searched for something to say, but the only words that escaped his lips were, “You’re beautiful.”
Her head snapped up, her gaze wary. “Excuse me?”
Feeling a blush of his own, he quickly played it off. “Against the window, with the light shining just that way…” He made a gesture with his hands, as if framing her face. “Makes you look like an angel. A Christmas angel,” he added with a wink, hoping it covered up his uncharacteristic bashfulness.
Luckily, she laughed again and shook her head wryly. “Well…I’ve definitely never heard that before,” she admitted with an edge to her voice that perked his ears. She tapped her nails against the tabletop, releasing a small sigh as she glanced back out the window. Snow fell in a glittering blanket outside the café.
He watched the snow fall with her, caught up in the wintry beauty. The peaks of the southern Rockies rose in the distance, capped with untouched snow and majestic in their wildness. As always he felt that deep-rooted serenity settle in, that knowledge that he’d found just what he’d been searching for, nestled in a small mountain village in Colorado.
Caught up in the peace and tranquility, he murmured, “You’d never see anything like this back home. I don’t think you see anything like this anywhere else.”
She glanced over at him, a hint of surprise lighting her features. “Back home? You mean, you aren’t a local?”
He quirked his lips. “Not technically.”
“But you seem so…so…immersed.” She wrinkled her nose. “You aren’t kidding me, are you?” Her lips pursed and she narrowed her eyes, studying him closely.
He laughed. “I swear, I’ve only been here about four years. I guess I just adjust really well,” he grinned.
“You love it here,” she added softly, reading between his playful words before turning back to the window. “And no, I’ve never seen anything like this before, either. Back in New Mexico, it snowed but it was desert and the scenery sucked so—”
“Wait, you’re from New Mexico?” he interrupted in surprise. When she nodded, he sat back and shook his head. “If you tell me you’re from Roswell, I’ll eat my apron.”
Her gaze grew shuttered and suspicious. “How did you know that?”
He let out a delighted bark of laughter, surprising her as he yelled over his shoulder. “Hey Kyle, bring me some salt and a shot of Cuervo! This fabric won’t go down easy.” When she only blinked in bewilderment, he added with amusement, “I’m from Roswell, too. Talk about small worlds.”
Her mouth fell open. “Okay, now I know you’re teasing me.”
Max held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. Wow, so how old are you? Don’t give me that look, we’re neighbors of a sort,” he teased when the wariness crept back into her eyes. He couldn’t begin to explain the pleasure bubbling up inside of him.
“I’m twenty-three,” she admitted, the barest hint of a smile curving her lips. “I just finished my grad work and needed a change of scenery, I guess.”
“So that’s why I don’t remember you,” he mused thoughtfully. “We weren’t in school together. I turned twenty-seven in October. Is this crazy or what?” He rubbed his hands together, feeling a strange connection to the petite woman seated next to him.
“Sorry to break this up,” an amused drawl broke into their dazed bubble and they both glanced up to see Kyle standing there with a pair of raised brows. “Max, one of the keg lines is tapped out and since I know how completely anal you are, I figured I’d let you handle it. It has nothing to do with the fact that I really just don’t want to lift those heavy sons of bitches.” He grinned unrepentantly as his monologue drew to a close.
Max groaned inwardly, pressing his lips together before glancing at Liz. She was staring at Kyle and blinking, as if she couldn’t quite figure out how he’d managed to say all of that in one breath. Max knew the feeling. “Just a sec, Kyle, I’ll be right there,” he answered, shooting him a meaningful glance.
He pretended not to catch on, whistling to the tune of Jingle Bells that played over the stereo. Finally Max heaved a disgusted breath and leaned forward to whisper, “I have to go, enjoy your chocolate, okay? I hope you’ll come back again.” He flashed her a quick grin before standing up to head back to the bar. He felt her gaze piercing his back as he left.
<center>***</center>
“You know, I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re new in town.”
Liz glanced up and saw that Max’s attractive friend had yet to depart from her table. Feeling her cheeks reheat as he quirked his lips at her, she took a lingering sip of her hot chocolate and strove to appear unaffected as he slid into the empty seat across from her.
“So, I think you should sign up for our contest,” Kyle continued. “You’d be perfect.” He leaned forward, a lock of sandy hair curling across his forehead as he grinned at her. He had an easy air about him that immediately put her at ease, despite the fact that he was a complete stranger. She found herself smiling back.
“What kind of contest?” she asked gamely, having no intention of joining anything. But she couldn’t blow him off when he seemed so eager to pitch his cause to her. She played with the rim of her mug, trying unsuccessfully to keep her gaze from drifting towards the back of the bar where Max had disappeared moments earlier.
“Well, we call it Secret Santa, but it’s not what you’re thinking. There’s a twist,” Kyle explained, resting his chin in his hands and angling his head towards her. The movement only made him that much more adorable, and she fought the urge to move across the table and smack a kiss to his dimpled cheek. There was nothing sexual about the feelings he invoked in her, although she assumed that she might be a rare exception there. He was warm and cozy, mischievious and endearing.
When she didn’t respond, he pushed on brightly. “Every Christmas Eve, there’s always a huge celebration in the square where Santa comes and makes an appearance. It’s for the children, but the town really gets into it…most of the adults even come and sit on Santa’s lap,” he laughed. “Several of the establishments around town get involved and donate gifts or just time to the different charity programs. This year, we got saddled with the Santa deal.”
The twinkling in his eyes belied the suffering in his words and she knew instantly that he loved being involved. His next words proved as much. “I can’t wait. We decided to jazz things up a bit this year, thus the contest.”
“We?” Liz heard herself echo curiously.
“Yeah, Max, Michael, and me. You haven’t met Mike yet, have you? Of course you haven’t, you just met me and Max,” Kyle concluded good-naturedly. He sat back and folded his arms across his chest as the radio segued into the next set of Christmas tunes. “He’s the other owner of this place. Max is the majority holder, which is why he’s going to do the honors of dressing up as the fat man himself come Friday night.”
“Max will be Santa?” Liz blinked, trying to picture the hunky café owner dressed in a red and white fur-trimmed suit. Strangely enough, the image was uncomfortably arousing and she felt a slight pang of guilt at the thought of lusting after a childhood icon. God, help her.
“Yeah, but you know…I shouldn’t have even told you that. It’s supposed to be a surprise.” Kyle leaned forward conspiratorially. “Here’s the deal. You enter, then on Christmas Eve you come down to the square. After the parades and the general festivities are over and the kids are safely tucked into their beds dreaming of sugarplums and the latest video game system, the party moves back to To-Hell-You-Ride, and that’s when things get fun.” His lips spread in a devilish grin. “All the ladies who’ve signed up for the Secret Santa will be here, and Michael and I get to dress up as Santa, too. Then we each pick a name out of our hat. She has to guess our identity, and if she’s right…” He trailed off suggestively and Liz blushed again. “She gets a date with her Santa.”
“Well, that’s very…charitable,” she managed.
Kyle hooted in delight. “Damn straight. We’ve got the Christmas spirit around here, babe.” With a quick wink, he added on, “It’s all in good fun, you know. Good, healthy, single fun. You are single, right?” His forehead creased in sudden concern.
She knew it was the perfect way out, the best way to not find herself involved. She’d planned on turning him down anyway, this would clench her non-participation and keep her from appearing ungrateful or prudish. Which is exactly why she could have died when some devil inside of her announced, “Yes, I’m single.”
“Great! Max would have been disappointed.” Apparently not noticing the widening of her eyes or the quickening of her breath, he walked away and pulled a clipboard from the wall and sauntered back over, pen in hand. “Just sign here, sugar, and let the good times roll. Christmas only comes once a year, right?”
In the end, she conceded to his solicitous smile and added her name to the already long list of eager participants. She consoled herself with the reality that there was no way in the world she’d ever be chosen anyway, so what did it truly matter? But the image of Max’s smoldering eyes and Kyle’s knowing grin stayed with her, even when she left the bar ten minutes later.
She walked briskly back to her apartment, pulling her scarf tight around her neck to thwart off the seeping chill as she absently studied a group of children having a snowball fight across the street. A smile touched her lips as one of them was hit, falling to the ground in a dramatic death sequence that had the others whooping in victory or groaning in defeat.
Her good mood lasted until she entered her apartment and saw the blinking light on her answering machine. With growing anxiety, she pulled off her coat and hung it up, taking the time to pull off her gloves and shoes before walking over and pressing the button to play her messages.
“Hi! You’ve reached Blair and Liz, leave us a message and we’ll get back to you!”
She winced, trying not to let it sting as she caught the pleasure emanating from her voice. She vowed to change the greeting as soon as she’d finished listening to the new messages, but when the next voice drifted through the air, her brain froze.
“Liz? Are you there? Listen, it’s me…we really need to talk, baby. I know I said some things before…I was just so upset. I’m so sorry, baby. I…I miss you. I want you back. It hasn’t even been a day, and I’m miserable.”
A miserable liar, she seethed inwardly. She felt the bite of her nails inside her palm as she continued listening to Blair’s pleading voice, her teeth grinding and heart thumping wildly.
“Call me whenever you get back, Liz. I’m at the Victorian Inn until I hear back from you…where are you, anyway?” A faint thread of impatience was weaved in his tone. “I know you didn’t have any plans today. Listen, are you there and just not answering?”
“Smug bastard,” she hissed. “What do you know about my plans? You’ve never bothered with them before.”
“If this is about Cindy, that was a mistake, baby. I’m over it,” he continued. “Just…just call me back, okay? I love you, Liz. I want to come home. We can work this out, I know we can.” He rambled off a number, which she completely disregarded as she stood in the living room, shaking.
She didn’t even hear the subsequent messages, too full of pain and anger as she paced the floor and bit at her nails. How dare he? Had she truly been so weak that he thought there was even a slight chance she’d ever allow him back into her life? Cindy aside, he’d said things that morning that had caused her to realize that he’d never truly loved her. Never respected her.
A mistake? He was over it?? Well, she damned well wasn’t. She was halfway across the room, ready to pick up the receiver and let him know that when the phone rang. She snatched it up and barked, “What?”
“Glad to see the Christmas spirit has you in its clutches,” a dry female voice drawled across the line. “Jeez, take my head off, why don’t you?”
She wilted, the fight draining from her as she fell blindly into a nearby chair. “Maria…um, yeah, sorry about that. I was…expecting someone else.”
“Who, Satan?” Maria wondered with a snort. “What gives, girl?”
“I was out and Blair called…” She trailed off in wry amusement as a string of curses fell from her friend’s lips. “Yeah, I had pretty much the same reaction.”
“What did that rat bastard want?” her best friend snapped. “Doesn’t he have Cindy Lou Who to worry about now? I swear Liz, if I wasn’t five-hundred miles away in the freaking desert—”
“How is everyone?” Liz quickly interjected before Maria could get going on the forms of retribution she’d like to wreak from Blair’s hide. “Everything still the same old?”
She heard Maria sigh over the line and prepared herself for the usual guilt trip and list of grievances from her parents. Instead, her friend surprised her by saying, “Alex is seeing someone new. A bimbo, Liz. A complete bimbo.”
“Maria DeLuca, jealousy does not become you,” Liz giggled in response.
“Jealous? Jealous? Me?” Maria guffawed. “Please, sweetie…that chapter of my life is locked and filed away under Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda Looked the Other Way. But just because Alex and me aren’t bouncing the mattress anymore doesn’t mean I approve of his mattress bouncing with some ditzy blonde drama queen. I can’t believe he’s marrying her.”
“Wait, what?” Liz perked up. “Alex is getting married?”
“Hello? Keep up, will you?” She could practically see her friend roll her eyes over the line. Maria had never been a patient sort. “Why else do you think I’m so irritated? Like I’d care who he dated otherwise. But this is crazy, Liz. Completely wacked.”
Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Liz settled more comfortably in the chair and hooked her legs over the side as she twirled the phone cord. Troubles momentarily forgotten, she replied, “I’m sure she isn’t that bad, Mar. Alex is a smart guy, he wouldn’t date someone who didn’t interest him.”
“Oh, I know exactly what interests him, Liz, and it’s not her stimulating intellect. It’s the size of her very big hooters.”
“God, Maria! Hooters?” Liz rolled her eyes. “What’s her name, anyway?”
“Isabel,” Maria sneered. “Isabel Evans. I personally think she’s lying and her name is really Candy or Bambi…I’ll make it my life’s mission to find out the truth, so help me God.”
“Evans?” Liz blinked in surprise. “How old is she? What does she look like? Does she have a brother?”
“Whoa, slow down! Why all the questions?”
“You brought it up,” Liz managed through her teeth. “Maria!”
“Fine!” Maria answered in a suspicious tone. “She’s in her early twenties, I’d guess maybe twenty-two or so. Younger than us, but old enough to mattress bounce.”
“Maria, for God’s sake.”
“She’s pretty enough, for a bimbo. Blonde, statuesque, big brown eyes, built like a brick shithouse…what was the other question?”
“Does she have a brother? Does her family sound familiar at all?” Liz wondered with baited breath. Was it possible that Max’s sister was marrying one of her best friends? Would they share that strange connection?
“You know, I don’t really know about her family. I know they’re rich…lawyers or something. Seems like she has an older brother, but he left years ago to start up his own business. Hey, you know, I think he moved out near you, actually. How’s that for weird?”
“Yeah, weird,” Liz mumbled. “Maria, I think I met the bimbo’s brother.”
“What? You met him? Where? When? How?”
“Now who’s asking the questions?”
“Spill, girlfriend!”
Liz immediately divulged the day’s events, carefully explaining every detail to her curious friend. She didn’t stop to wonder why she could remember practically every word that had been exchanged between her and Max, and she wasn’t aware of the way her voice softened when she spoke of him.
Maria, however, made interested noises when she finished. “Liz, you little vixen! Shame, shame, you know your name…oh who the hell am I kidding? Good for you, girl! A sexy flirtation is exactly what you needed after the horror that is Blair McNab. Even if he is the bimbo’s brother.”
“We weren’t flirting!” she denied quickly, flushing hotly as she recalled Max’s sexy grin and husky voice. “I just met him today, Maria. It takes time to…to…develop a flirtation.”
“Not if your hormones are involved,” Maria answered impishly. “And it sounds like yours took a punch in the gut. So, when are you seeing him again?”
“I don’t know….I’m probably not.” She nibbled her lips. “I definitely won’t. I mean, I might run into him at the café now and again, but it’s not like we’ll be…”
“Mattress bouncing?”
“Shut up,” Liz grumbled. “It’s not like that.”
“Uh huh, sure. And what about this contest thing you mentioned?”
“Contest?” she faltered. “Oh…yeah, that was just for fun, you know? I haven’t had enough of that lately.”
Immediately, Maria went from provoking to sympathetic. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right, you do whatever it is that makes you feel good, okay? You deserve it. Just remember, anything can happen.”
“Yeah well, I know my luck,” Liz laughed without humor. “So forgive me if I’m not dizzy with excitement, Maria. I know I have a problem with men, one that inevitably ends with me getting or giving the boot on some nationally celebrated holiday. ”
“Liz, did you ever think that it’s not you that has a problem, but the men you choose?” Maria asked softly.
Liz didn’t answer, but the question stayed with her even after she’d hung up with her friend and gotten into bed. It haunted her dreams, along with a handsome man with golden eyes and a sensuous smile.
<center>End Part One. To Be Continued...</center>
My favorite time of the year...enjoy...
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