The Seven Days of Christmas Page 4

  “If you’re bored, you can make a run to get us lunch,” Carol said, joining them.

  Marty grinned. “I’m not sure I’m that bored, but will do. Where at?”

  “The sandwich shop down the street,” Trey replied, getting money from the cash register. “I’m paying, so don’t argue,” he said when it looked as if Marty was going to. “It’s the least I can do for the two of you for showing up in this weather.”

  He and Carol told Marty what they wanted; Marty got his coat and took off.

  “So…” Carol said, leaning against the counter. “Is he more than a friend? I caught him looking at you a couple of times and my guess is he hopes so.”

  “We’re sort of working on it,” Trey admitted. “We went out to eat, yesterday, and to a movie.”

  “And home together?” She grinned lasciviously.

  “Not even. We’re testing the waters, is all. We might find out we’re good as friends and nothing more.”

  “Trey, I barely know you, but there’s one thing I have picked up on. You’re gun-shy for some reason. How do I know, you ask? I’ve seen you interact with some of the guys who come in here. A couple of them were real friendly and you backed off as if they were going to bite you.”

  “I didn’t!”

  “Yeah, you did. I asked Nan about it and she said something happened. She wouldn’t tell me what except it had to do with Christmas. I won’t pry, but honestly, if you like Marty, give him a chance.”

  “I am,” Trey protested.

  “Good. He seems like a nice guy and he’s interested in you. Don’t blow it.”

  “Yes, mother,” Trey muttered at the same time that the front door opened and Marty came in, carrying three bags from the sandwich shop.

  “Lunch is served,” he announced, setting them on the counter. “Do we eat here, or in back?”

  “Here’s fine,” Trey told him. “I have the feeling we won’t be interrupted.”

  “Had to say that,” Carol muttered when the door opened again and two couples came in. Marty picked the bags up to take to the break room, promising not to eat everything, and Trey and Carol got back to work.

  * * * *

  There had been no more customers after the two couples early in the afternoon, and the last of the reserved costumes had been picked up, so at five, Trey decided to close for the day. Carol was all for that and took off—“Before you change your mind.” He put up a sign to let anyone who came by know that the shop had closed early because of the weather, and a second one announcing that it would be closing at noon tomorrow, which was Christmas Eve day.

  Trey told Marty he’d be glad to drive him to pick up his car. Marty called to see if it was ready, only to be told it wouldn’t be until the day after Christmas, since the shop was about to close and wouldn’t open until then.

  “That sucks,” Marty grumbled when he’d hung up and relayed the news to Trey.

  “So I’ll take you home, instead,” Trey replied.

  Marty smiled wickedly. “Yours or mine?”

  Trey shook his head, amused but not taking the bait. “I’ll drop you off at your doorstep.”

  “I could fix us something to eat,” Marty suggested, looking hopeful.

  After considering his suggestion, Trey decided to take a chance. “Supper, and then I leave. And I’ll help.”

  Marty chuckled. “Probably a good idea. I’m not exactly a chef.”

  “Me neither,” Trey admitted. “As long as you’ve got stuff to work with, we can undoubtedly—” he crossed his fingers, “—put together something edible.”

  With that decided, Trey did the books for the day, and then they left. Marty gave Trey directions to his apartment building, and after bucking rush-hour traffic, they were parking in the lot behind it.

  “Impressive,” Trey said when they walked into the lobby, which had granite flooring and deep blue walls, with a sofa and chairs forming a conversation group in the center.

  “It’s all for show,” Marty replied. “The rest of the place is a dump.”

  “Dump, my ass,” Trey said a couple of minutes later when they got off the elevator on Marty’s floor. The hallway was carpeted, with pale green walls and darker green doors.

  He almost repeated himself when he saw Marty’s apartment. It wasn’t large—a living/dining room with a kitchen off to the left, and a hallway with doors to what he presumed were the bedroom and bathroom to the right—but it had hardwood floors and walls painted pale beige and a soft teal.

  They shed their coats, hanging them in the entryway closet, and then Marty asked, “Would you, umm, like a beer while we figure out what to make for supper?” He suddenly seemed nervous, which surprised Trey.

  “Sure,” Trey replied, following him into the kitchen, which had granite counters and modern appliances. “A definite step up from mine,” he said, taking the beer Marty handed him.

  “I have glasses, if you want one.”

  “No, this is fine.” Trey took a sip, watching Marty as he checked the cupboards and then the fridge, and then the cupboards, again. “Relax.”

  Marty nodded. “I’m seeing if I have anything edible.”

  “Really?” Trey asked, certain there was more to it than that.

  “Okay. Honest truth, I’m sort of…” He opened the fridge, staring into it.

  “Wondering if my being here is a good idea?”

  Marty turned to look at him. “Not at all. The thing is, I rarely have company, believe it or not, and never for supper.”

  Trey almost joked, “Are you planning on eating me?” and refrained. A double entendre that he could take the wrong way. “I’m the same,” he admitted. “I’d probably be jumpy as hell, too, so let’s pretend this is the norm and see what we have to work with.”

  “Well…” Marty took out a package wrapped in butcher paper. “Stew meat, for starters.”

  “Great.” Trey joined him. “Carrots and potatoes, that’s good. Do you have any canned tomatoes or beef broth?”

  “Yes on the tomatoes, no on the broth.” Marty took two cans from the cupboard. “And green beans.”

  “All right. First we brown the meat and cut up the veggies and microwave them or it’ll take forever for them to cook. Then toss everything in a pot.”

  Marty finally relaxed enough to grin, saying, “I have made stew before. We can add beer for the liquid.”

  “Good idea.”

  They set to work and several minutes later the stew was simmering on the stove. Taking their beers, they went into the living room to wait while it cooked. Marty turned on the TV to a news program, just in time to catch the weather report.

  “Looks like we’ve seen the last of the snow, at least for a couple of days,” he said.

  “Thankfully. Maybe we’ll get a little more business tomorrow morning.”

  “Only in the morning?” Marty asked.

  “Yeah. I thought I told you. We close at noon since it’s Christmas Eve. I’ve learned from experience that no one comes by after that. You’ll be working at the bar tomorrow night, right?”

  “And Christmas night, too. Maybe I should take you up on your offer and get a costume.”

  Trey grinned. “A gladiator. That should earn you double tips from the ladies.”

  “Not sure the boss would go for it. Maybe a red vest and that red bowler I saw on one of the shelves.”

  “And nothing else?” Trey’s grin widened.

  Marty snorted. “As if. My usual black slacks and white shirt.”

  “Uh-uh. No shirt, just the vest.”

  “Are you trying to get me fired?”

  “No, but it would be sexy without overdoing it.” Trey nodded, eyeing him. “You’ve got the build for it.”

  Marty smiled slowly. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  Trey quickly changed the subject before it could go any further. Getting up, he said, “We should check the stew. It’s probably ready,” and went into the kitchen.

  Marty was right behind hi
m. Putting one hand on his shoulder, he said, “I’m sorry. I was pushing it when I know we said we’d go slow.”

  “It’s okay. Honest. Nerves, I guess. It’s been a long time since…” He went silent, lifting the cover on the pot. Getting a fork, he tested one of the bits of potato. “By the time we set the table…”

  “It’ll be ready. Okay,” Marty replied before getting plates and silverware, which he took to the dining table.

  Trey found a large bowl for the stew, and a plate for the bread he got from the fridge. Soon, everything was on the table and they sat down to eat.

  “Not too bad, for improvising,” Marty said.

  “Sometimes that’s the best way,” Trey replied. He chuckled. “It’s generally the only way I cook. Toss in this and that and see what happens.”

  Marty grinned. “How often do you toss it out because it’s inedible?”

  Trey waggled his hand. “Once a month? Not really, but I have forced down some meals because I was damned if I’d waste food. Thankfully, this isn’t one of them.”

  “Because we worked on it together.”

  “Yeah, probably,” Trey agreed.

  “Then we should do it more often.”

  “I suppose we could, Sundays and Mondays.” Trey liked the idea, and from Marty’s expression, he did too. It’s one way for us to see if we really are compatible, as long as we keep it to suppers and end the evening at that—for now, anyway.

  “I don’t think there’s anything for dessert,” Marty said when they finished eating. “I’m not big on keeping sweets around. I tend to eat them.”

  Trey laughed. “That’s the idea.”

  “All in one sitting?”

  “Well…”

  “Yeah.” Marty got up, starting to clear the table. “If I did, I’d lose my boyish figure real fast.”

  Trey looked him over with a knowing eye, as he began to help. “I think it would take a lot for that to happen.”

  Marty grinned. “Maybe, but I’m not going to test the theory.”

  They took the dishes into the kitchen and washed them by hand because, Marty said, “If we stick them in the dishwasher, it’ll take a week to fill it up, and I don’t own that many plates and cups.”

  “At least you have one, for when you throw big parties. My place doesn’t.”

  Snorting, Marty replied, “I’ve never had a party, even a small one. I get enough ‘partying’ with the people who come into the bar.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Trey dried his hands and then said, “I should head home.”

  “So soon?” Marty asked, sounding disappointed.

  “Yeah. I have to work tomorrow, even if it is only a half day. I do that better with a good night’s sleep. You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.”

  “I committed to helping you and I’m not backing out,” Marty replied.

  Trey liked the idea that Marty would keep his promise—a lot. “Then I’ll pick you up around nine; just to be on the safe side.”

  “Thanks.”

  Trey got his coat, hesitating before putting it on.

  “Second thoughts?” Marty asked.

  “About leaving? Yes, but I should. If I stay…”

  Marty nodded. “Got it. I wouldn’t do anything, I promise, as much as I might want to.”

  “Might?” Trey asked with a small smile.

  “Okay. I would want to, but I’m not taking the chance it could push you away. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, I really like you, and I think you feel the same. I’m not willing to blow my chances by being pushy.”

  “Thank you.” Trey stepped up to him, giving him a quick hug. “That means a lot to me.”

  Marty hugged him back, holding him for a long moment. “Okay, get out of here before I forget I’m a gentleman.”

  Laughing, Trey replied, “I will, before I forget I’m supposed to be one, too. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “You bet.” Marty opened the door for him with a bow. “See, gentleman to the bone.”

  “Which is a good thing, in my book.”

  As he walked down the hallway to the elevator, Trey looked back and saw Marty watching him. It made him smile. Am I getting attached to him? Damned right I am. Will it go any further? God, I hope so. I really do.

  Chapter 6

  Tuesday, Christmas Eve

  Marty was up, dressed, and had eaten breakfast by the time Trey buzzed to let him know he had arrived. Grabbing what he needed, he headed down and out to where Trey had parked in front of the building.

  “You know,” Trey said as Marty fastened his seatbelt. “If we’re going to keep doing things together, we should trade numbers.”

  “Absolutely,” Marty agreed. “Give me your phone. Please,” he added. Trey did and Marty programmed his number into it, and then Trey’s into his phone. “Now there’s no escaping me,” he said with a grin when he handed it back.

  Trey patted Marty’s thigh. “Like I’d want to.”

  That relieved Marty. He’d been awake half the night, worrying that Trey would change his mind once he really thought about everything.

  Carol was waiting out front when they walked to the shop after parking in Trey’s usual lot. She took one look at them and grinned. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Huh?” Trey said as he unlocked the door.

  “You two arriving at the same time, and in the same car. I saw you drive by.”

  “Do not jump to conclusions,” Marty replied. “My car’s still in the shop, so Trey’s been playing chauffeur.”

  “That’s your story and you’re sticking to it.”

  “Carol…” Trey wagged a finger at her. “Behave or you won’t get your Christmas bonus.”

  “I’m behaving, I’m behaving,” she replied with a sheepish grin as she headed to the break room, with the men right behind her.

  * * * *

  Trey had barely returned to the front office when the phone rang. He answered, figuring it was someone wanting to know if the shop was open, since it was Christmas Eve. He was happily surprised to hear Nan’s voice instead—especially when she told him she would be back the day after Christmas, in time to be at work that morning when the shop reopened.

  “Dad’s doing as well as can be expected,” she said when Trey asked. “He was moved to a private room yesterday and is soaking up all the attention from the, to quote him, sexy nurses.”

  Trey snorted. “I bet your mom loves that.”

  “As far as she’s concerned, the fact he’s in any condition to notice makes it fine with her. We’re going to have a small Christmas celebration in his room, tomorrow, before I leave.”

  “Tell him ‘Hi’ from me and that I’m glad he’s doing okay.”

  “Will do.” She paused, then asked, “Are you doing you usual movie marathon tomorrow?”

  “I have no clue.”

  “Why?”

  “I…umm…there’s this man I know, a bartender. We’ve sort of, maybe, hit it off, and he said we’re going to do something but he won’t say what.” He shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see it.

  “Do tell, and I mean all, in detail,” Nan replied.

  “I can’t,” he whispered when Marty and Carol came in, chattering away to each other. “He’s standing right here, almost. I’ll tell you when you get back, I promise.”

  “You’d better. Okay, I’ll say it, because for once I think you won’t pooh-pooh me. Have a Merry Christmas.”

  Trey smiled. “I think maybe, for the first time in ages, I might. You, too.”

  “Planning on it,” Nan replied before hanging up.

  “That was Nan,” he told the others. “She’ll be back and at work Thursday morning when we reopen.”

  “Yes!” Carol pumped an arm. “Right in time to help with returns.”

  Trey laughed. “Yep. And between doing that, the two of you can take care of anyone wanting New Year’s costumes. Right now, though, let’s start taking down the Christ
mas window decorations. We can re-dress the mannequins in a tux and an evening gown, instead.”

  “No Old Man Time and Baby New Year?” Marty asked.

  “Since I don’t have costumes for them, that would be a no.”

  They got to work changing out the window, stopping twice to take care of customers. By the time they finished, it was noon. Carol went to the break room, returning wearing her boots and coat.

  “You have a great Christmas,” she said, hugging Trey, and then Marty. “Don’t do anything I won’t approve of.”

  Trey rolled his eyes. “I have the feeling that encompasses nothing. You have a good day, too. I’ll see you Thursday morning.”

  “You bet.” She switched the sign on the door to ‘Closed’ on her way out, something Trey had forgotten about.

  “Let me do the books, then I’ll take you home,” Trey told Marty.

  “With only three rentals, that should take all of ten minutes.”

  “I know, but it has to be done.” While Trey was tallying the receipts and entering everything on the spreadsheet on his computer, Marty got their coats and turned off all the lights except in the front office.

  “Ready?” Marty asked.

  “Yep,” Trey replied, shutting down the computer then putting on his coat. He turned the remaining lights off, except for the ones in the window, and they left. “If you’re hungry,” he said when they got to the car, “we can stop for lunch before I take you home.”

  * * * *

  “Or eat, and then find something else to do. And not—” Marty chuckled, “—the way that could be taken.”

  “I know.” Trey unlocked the car and they got in before he said, “The question is…what?”

  “Check out the window decorations downtown, and the Christmas Mart.” Marty knew he might be pushing it, but he hoped not.

  “I suppose we could.” Trey smiled wryly. “It might put me in the holiday mood, although I’m not as anti-Christmas now as I was even a week ago.”

  “I noticed.”

  “It’s your fault, you know. You won’t let me feel sorry for myself.”

  Marty snorted. “Why would I? I like it when you’re smiling and happy.”

  “Me, too,” Trey replied as he put the key in the ignition. “I usually am, except around…”