Everything about our city is magical, but Christmas will take your breath away. This Christmas, in particular, I savor every second of that magic because I know Reid will be leaving soon. Every walk we take, every movie we see, every song we sing, I take it all in and lock it away safe and secure, so I can bring it back up on those nights I find myself missing him too much.
We take a carriage ride through Jackson Square, sip hot chocolate as we walk Fulton Street, and tour the grand lobby of the Roosevelt. It’s like stepping into a Hallmark movie.
“Tell me what you’re thinking. Right this second,” Reid says as we take in the beauty of Christmas at the Oaks. He stops walking and tugs on the hand he’s been holding. The luminous blue lights reflect the twinkle in his eye, and I am overwhelmed by the beauty of it all.
I have to be the luckiest girl on earth.
“If you had a superpower, what would it be?” I ask.
A wide smile brightens his face as he pulls my body closer to his. “Hmmm,” he pauses to think, “It changes depending on the situation. You see, sometimes, like now for instance, I would love to have X-ray vision. Because you have on way too many clothes.” He wiggles his eyebrows and pulls me even closer. I lay my head against his chest, and I hear him inhale my scent as his cheek presses against my hair. His breath is a warm contrast to the cool, evening breeze as he speaks against my ear. “Then, sometimes I wish I could read minds. Not all minds. Just yours.” I circle my arms around his waist and hold him as if I’m afraid he will disappear if I let go. “What about you? What would yours be?”
“I would freeze time,” I say over the lump in my throat.
His chest rises and falls beneath my head, like he knows where this is going. Soon after, I feel the heat of his mouth against my skin as he presses a kiss to the side of my neck.
“Look at me,” he says, and I immediately obey.
Reid’s hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing my cheekbone, and his fingertips threading through the hair at the back of my neck as he gently guides me forward. His tongue sweeps past my lips and my mouth welcomes him. Children shouting, people talking, passing footsteps—it all fades in the distance. Seemingly having a mind of their own, my hands slide underneath his shirt, across his stomach, and over his ribs onto his back. He groans into my mouth, and it seems only natural to push myself further into his body, deepening the kiss. His fingers grip my wrists, softly guiding my hands away from his skin, and he hesitantly draws his mouth from mine.
“Right now, my superpower would be invisibility. Because as badly as I want to fuck you right here, in the middle of this park, I don’t think these people would appreciate the beauty of having to witness it.”
It turns out, neither one of us had the willpower to make it home, so I became an official member of the bathroom stall club, right there in City Park.
As of yesterday, it’s been two months since I last saw Reid. Saying goodbye to him the first time was cake compared to saying goodbye this time. I had worked myself up for the moment he came home so much that I never took the time to consider he’d be leaving again so soon. Somehow, I manage to find the strength to do it and the hope that as soon as this is over, we can pick up right where we left off.
Today is my birthday. It’s almost noon. I’ve been sitting in front of my laptop in my pajamas since 6:00 a.m., and I still haven’t heard from him. I send frequent prayers of thanks for the creators of modern technology. Skype is a godsend. Seriously, seeing his gorgeous face on a 13-inch screen is so much better than waiting two weeks at a time for a letter.
Realizing I could potentially be waiting around for nothing, I suck it up and call Carlos to pick up an evening shift. Jaxon makes me wear a tiara that says Birthday Girl. It makes me feel twelve instead of twenty. But it’s working miracles for my tips, so I rock that thing like I’m the queen of England. By the end of the night, my feet have a completely different opinion.
The dogs are barking.
There’s definitely a pedicure somewhere in my near future.
People have been more than generous, and I’m ready to bounce on out of here and count my little green blessings. So, when Carlos passes out everyone else’s tips but requests to see me in his office, I can’t help being just a tad bit frustrated.
I walk the long hallway past the kitchen then knock on the steel door that I can’t recall ever seeing anyone go in nor come out of in my entire two and a half years at the restaurant.
I impatiently wait for my invitation to open the door. Ryleigh and Brynn are taking me out. I’m curious about my tips. And I’m eagerly waiting for Reid to call at any moment. Every second feels like hours.
If I’m in trouble, I wish we’d just hurry and get it over with. Rip the band aid off and let me have it. Surely there’s nothing wrong with telling customers it’s your birthday?
Carlos’s strong, confident voice calls for me to come inside, so I open the door and walk in.
I feel as if I have walked through a portal into a completely different world. The restaurant, while well-kept and tastefully decorated, looks as if not a single thing has been updated since the day it opened thirty years ago. This office, on the other hand, looks like it was snatched straight out of a magazine and placed in the back of this building. The floors are a rich dark wood, and there are leather chairs and round tables spread across an oversized wool rug. Priceless artwork and novel-filled bookcases line the walls, and the desk in the back of the room is a massive statement piece.
“Wow,” is all I can say.
Carlos grins. “Thank you.”
“When I get promoted to manager, do I get an office like this?”
He continues smiling but sharpens his tone. “Oh, Makenna, I hope your dreams are much bigger than that.”
My dreams. Graduate, marry Reid, become a nurse, and save the world. “I’m working on it.”
“It’s been my experience that the things you have to fight the hardest for are the things you end up appreciating the most.”
There’s a brief flash of pain in his eyes, making me want to reach out, to ask him what a man like him would possibly have to fight for. I would think things would come pretty easily for someone like Carlos Suppato. But this isn’t two friends having a heart-to-heart. He’s my boss, and I’m just another paycheck for him to sign.