Page 6 of The Holiday Set Up
“Appreciate it, man. Sorry, I’m so terrible at this,” I tell Noah, whose job is only to take care of the pool, but the guy has been a saint helping me out with all the maintenance around the complex. Basically, teaching me things a grown man really should already know.
“Nah, you’re not terrible, but you haven’t done this sort of work before, have you?”
I push my glasses higher up my nose and answer honestly. “Nope, my old man wasn’t around growing up. My mom pushed me into my textbooks. Although she could have easily fixed that.” I laugh, pointing under the sink and thinking about the ballbuster my mom was.
“Hey guys, want a beer for all that hard work,” PK says, laughing at my clumsiness.
“Sure. I’m off today.” Noah replies, taking the outstretched hops. “A big strong hockey player like yourself really should know how to tighten his own pipes.” He tells PK.
“You were off? Why did you come help? You should have said something,” I tell Noah, suddenly feeling guilty.
“Don’t worry about it, man. I couldn’t in good conscience not help. Who knows what damage you could have caused,” Noah says with a light laugh.
“Alright, I get it, I’m not a very handy handyman, but you shits weren’t complaining when I was fixing your fucking taxes,” I say, taking a drink of my own beer.
They both nod, but PK seems distracted as he scrolls through his phone.
“Ok boys, time for you to leave,” he says, looking at Noah, and the two seem to communicate something without words.
Noah says goodbye at the door and heads over to the coffee shop, no doubt wanting to flirt with Sylvia, and I head for the elevator, hoping to catch a glimpse of Blair.
I’ve been avoiding her, other than watching her and asking everyone how she’s doing. I can’t help it; I’ve wanted her for so long. I know fate brought us together on that day, at that exact moment, for a reason. She’s the one.It's hard to stay away even though I know I should. Once I know she’s safe from the danger that’s following me, I’ll make her mine. Until then, I just hope she doesn’t meet anyone.
As my keys slide into the keyhole, I hear laughter from her place and smile. Thinking about her and Ivy having drinks, or maybe she’s trying to bake something. My mom might not have taught me to fix much of anything, but she taught me to cook a meal for a woman and the value of respect. Never take her for granted. She’d always say, and I always listened.
My heart longs to do things like cook dinner for Blair, take her out to a movie, or bowling for old times’ sake, but I can’t, and it hurts.
“There he is.”
“Fitzy? What are you doing in my condo?” I was surprised to see my new granny standing in my kitchen with a long garment bag draped over her arm and a martini in the other.
“I’m here to help you get ready, of course.”
“Ready for what? Is it time to go to court? This late?”
Glancing down at my old watch, I note it’s after five already. I’m sure court will not be in session, although if it gets me closer to being with my love, I’m happy to do it.
“No, not the court, your date.” She doesn’t look at me as she declares my plans for the evening. My discomfort rises with the woman I’m obligated to be grateful to, and truthfully, I am, but at the moment, I’m aggravated as fuck.
“I have no intention of going on a date tonight, Fitz. Thanks, but no thanks. I told you before I don’t need help meeting anyone. I’m already in love with someone. My life’s just complicated, as you already know.”
Fitzy knows all, sees all, and usually concurs all. She’s not really my grandma, but she is helping hide me for the FBI. For that, I am beyond grateful, but the thought of sitting across the public dinner table from some woman that isn’t Blair turns my stomach.
“Dalton Andrews, you will take a fresh shower, put this designer suit on, and take the woman of my choosing out to dinner tonight. I got you both a waiting limo as well as dinner reservations at KRAZE, the hottest new restaurant in Bourbon and the safest.” She states with a wink, using my real name. “Now, scoot.”
I groan my displeasure like a teenager being forced to do as he’s told and take the suit as I march my unhappy ass upstairs to my shower. With any luck, she’ll let herself out, and I’ll bail on this disaster date.
Showered, shaved, and presentable, I find myself standing with a bouquet of pink roses, waiting on my date. The limo’s running, and I distract myself by kicking a few rocks scattered at my feet.
“Hi,” says a sweet voice I would recognize anywhere, and my eyes lock on hers.
“Blair,” I say, feelinggobsmacked seeing her here… in that red dress that looks like it was made for her. Goddamn, it’s been torture keeping away from all those curves.
“Oliver.”
“Um, what are you doing here?” I question, shaking out of my quickly spiraling fantasy of her slipping out of that dress.
“Fitzy.”