How To Bake The Perfect Christmas Cake. Gina Calanni

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СКАЧАТЬ in the back of the place is a small dance floor. Maybe later I will do a few twirls around it. I smile, thinking about the last time Brianna and I danced together. We like to do our own version of Romy & Michelle’s “Kid ’N’ Play” number. It’s choreographed well and we always get a few cheers from the crowd and several rounds of drinks offered.

      Since I’m alone, I head for the bar. Obviously, I wouldn’t sit on a big couch by myself. The last time I sat at a big couch alone in a bar I could practically hear the pitiful chatter about me. As if I had been stood up by my date. If they only knew the reality. The only date to ever stand me up was at the airport. I shake my head and purse my lips. Don’t go there, Lauren. I’m about to grab a seat when my arm is being pulled. I turn around. I’m ready to go full ninja on whoever is trying to accost me in a public place.

      “Lauren! I’m so glad you came.” Brianna grabs me in a tight squeeze. I sigh and hug her back and then drop my hands down to her arms. She is dressed like a fashion model as usual, with her bright-emerald-green cocktail dress with the perfect opal bauble necklace, accompanied by her new Brian Atwood color-blocked gladiator heels. I wish I had her shoe budget. But then again, she is a real estate agent in a hot market. Maybe with my new promotion I will be on the same level of Brianna with her shopping sprees. Ha, probably not but one can dream.

      “Where’s Owen?”

      “He’s over there,” Brianna points to the far corner of the room. Her shiny raven hair swings as she turns her head. Owen is wearing his office attire, he’s a stock broker for a big firm. He is a few years older than us, but no real signs of gray yet. Although, if I were in that line of business with the type of stress he encounters, I think I would look like Meryl Streep in 101 Dalmatians. I’m sure when I go gray it will look similar with those chunky stripes. Except I will color it. My hair stylist had the gall to tell me the other day that he found a gray. I almost cried in the chair. He must have sensed my concern and changed his story to it being a blond hair and then dropped the evidence before I could inspect it myself.

      “We got a table, I told him about how we were going to hang out tonight and he said it was wrong to cancel, well I didn’t cancel, but put off our plans, so anyways here we are!” She squeezes me again.

      “Oh, that was nice of Owen, but I don’t want to impose on your date…especially if y’all are still rekindling things.” My eyebrows are furrowed. I’m more than a little surprised to see Brianna or Owen for that matter.

      “Don’t be silly,” Brianna shoves my shoulder a little and links arm with me, practically dragging me to her table, or rather their table. I really don’t want to be a third wheel.

      At the table, Owen stands up. “Hey, Lauren, it’s good to see you.” He gives me friendly hug.

      “You too, Owen.” I pat his back and sit down.

      “Oh my gosh, the service tonight has suuuucked. I’m going to go to the bar and buy you a drink, wine or fancy schmancy tini?” Brianna grabs her purse.

      “I can get it.”

      “Absolutely not! I’m so happy you’re here, first rounds on me. Which one is it going to be?” Brianna pushes me down in my chair.

      “Surprise me.”

      “You know I love surprises.” Brianna winks at me and heads for the bar.

      “So…how are things going?” Owen asks as he takes a sip of his gin and maybe tonic.

      “Good. Real good. How about you?” I play with the straps on my purse. I’ve never had to deal with small talk and Owen. It’s weird because I have a portfolio of information about him. His likes, his dislikes, his quirks and funny mannerisms, it’s completely information overload and now here I am sitting in front of him without Brianna.

      “Same. So when do you head home for Christmas?” Owen asks, taking another sip, he’ll be done with his drink before Brianna returns with mine.

      “Oh, I’m not going home this year.” The bar is packed and I can’t even find Brianna in the crowd, I glance back at Owen and see a tall guy standing against the wall alone. Which is odd, because why would anyone stand near the wall of a bar and not actually be near the bar? The lights are low, but for some reason he looks like Jack. Most likely because I can’t stop thinking about him. Lauren, get a grip.

      “Lauren?” Owen is staring at me, like he’s irritated or something?

      “Yes?”

      “I asked you why you aren’t going home.” Owen said, swallowing the last of his drink.

      “I’m sorry. I thought I saw someone that I knew over there. I’m not going home, well, to be honest because of that person.” I shake my head. I can’t believe I spoke those words out loud. But then again, it’s not like Owen is going to call my family and tell them. After the nonsense fell from my mouth, I’m struck by how silly I’m being.

      “So the person is a guy and you aren’t going home because of him?” Owen asks, eyebrows pushed together.

      “I know after I said it out loud…I realize how ridiculous that sounds.” I shake my hair back and laugh. From the corner of my eye I steal a glance at the wall, the guy is gone.

      “Yeah, it does sound ridiculous, but what happened? What did he do that was so bad that would make you not want to see your family at Christmas?” Owen runs his hands through his hair.

      “Well, he was supposed to come see me a few weeks ago, and then he didn’t.” Where is Brianna? This is taking far too long.

      “Maybe something came up. Did he contact you at all?” Owen grabs a hold of a waiter that is walking by.

      “Seven and Seven and two Holidaytinis.” He hands the waiter his card.

      What is taking Brianna this long? She should be sitting here with Owen, not me.

      “Maybe I should go and check on Brianna, she’s been gone for a while.” I stand up.

      Owen nods and pulls out his phone.

      I march over to the bar. There isn’t an open seat. I peer through the crowd of people searching for any sign of Brianna. A warm hand latches onto my arm and pulls me away from the crowd. I cast my eyes down at the hand and then follow it all the way to the pressed button-down shirt of a guy. A guy with sandy-blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Eyes that draw me in. It’s Jack. Jack?

      “Jack, what are you doing here?” I shake my arm out of his embrace.

      “I came to see you.” Jack grabs for my hand. Here he is, standing in front of me. Am I going nuts? I take him in, all of him. Here he is, in the flesh, with those same sparking blue eyes with flecks of green. They are staring back at me, searching for a response.

      “Okay.” My lips are trying to form words, sentences, questions, something.

      “Lauren, I’m sorry about before. I didn’t want to call or text, I wanted to ‒ I needed to talk to you about it in person. That’s why I’m here.” He gathers my body in towards his. His shirt is soft against my skin, his arms are strong around my waist, pulling me in closer to him. I inhale and his minty scent mixed with apples and sandalwood rises up, awakening my senses. These emotions can’t simply be СКАЧАТЬ