“Later, Dustin,” I bellow as I reach the door, throwing a wave to my new friend and smiling when he returns the gesture.
Outside, the cold air hits me square in the face, but I barely feel it. Instead, I feel lighter, happier now that I’ve seen Lyndee. I fully expect a busier than hell Saturday, but for some reason, just spending a few minutes with her before work has me anxious and ready to tackle the day.
I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact I’ll be seeing her tomorrow too, when she and Dustin come to my place for dinner.
Nothing at all.
Keep telling yourself that.
***
“Hey!” Numbers hollers as the front door closes. A few seconds later, he adds, “Damn, it smells amazing in here,” as he enters the kitchen.
“Thanks.” I glance up and give him a smile, only to have it falter just a touch when I see the woman at his side.
“You remember Savannah, right?” Numbers asks, knowing full well I do. He reaches for her coat and takes it once she removes the outerwear.
“Yes, of course. Nice to see you again, Savannah,” I reply cordially, doing everything I can to not actually roll my eyes.
I love Isaac like a brother. He’s one of my best friends, and I’d trust him with my life. But he’s unable to see how unfit Savannah is for him. It pisses me off how she uses him, and he gets his hopes up that their relationship will stick this time around. Like Jameson said before, we’re tired of watching him get his heart broken time and time again.
Speaking of, I wonder if Jameson knows she’s coming. I mean, no one needs approval to bring a woman to one of our small gatherings, but I find it odd that Numbers didn’t at least mention it prior to tonight. Unless he knew we’d give him a hard time about her presence, especially after the spat he had with Jameson over her.
“Thanks for inviting me,” she states with a little too much sugar behind her words.
I glance at Numbers as he returns from hanging their coats in the foyer closet, my eyebrows drawn up in question. He gives me a look, one that says to be nice and not start shit with her. I, of course, ignore the look and reach for my beer. “So, Savannah. What have you been up to lately?”
“I just finished decorating the Masters mansion on Park Place. You know the one, right?” she asks, taking the glass of red wine Isaac pours for her.
“I do. Nice place. Isn’t that caught up in a nasty divorce right now? The one with the cheating husband?”
The color falls from her face. Sure, I’m being vindictive, but I don’t care.
“I hope you got paid before everything blew up with that scandal,” I add for good measure.
Numbers sighs.
Savannah looks like she’s going to throw up.
I want to laugh in her face and apologize to my friend at the same time for bringing it up.
Four months ago, Savannah pulled another of her famous “I just don’t see this going anywhere long term” bullshit excuses and ran straight into the arms of a married man. The very one she was working for. John Masters. His wife found out her husband was screwing the designer she hired to redecorate the entire first floor of the seven thousand square foot home, and promptly filed for divorce.
Especially since there was no prenup.
Unfortunately for John, he made his fortune after marrying the young Miss Ohio in 1986, leaving himself wide open for sharing everything he made right down the middle. Rumor has it, once the affair came to light, he dumped Savannah in hopes of reconciling with his wife. I haven’t heard whether or not that happened, but the fact remains: Savannah’s only into Isaac until something bigger comes along.
And I hate her.
Another knock sounds on the front door, saving us from the awkward conversation we were embarking on. My first thought is Jameson, until I near the little feet pounding on the hardwood. A smile instantly spreads across my face, and I set my spoon down on the counter.
“Lizard!” I holler the moment her small body breaches the doorway and launches at the first unofficial uncle she finds.
“Is it time for pwesents?” she asks Isaac, big hopeful green eyes cast his way.
“I told you we have to eat dinner first,” Mallory reminds her daughter, giving her a stern look.
“I don’t understand why we have to wait. I mean, if Lou wants to open presents, why not just get them out of the way?” Walker asks, following behind his girlfriend.
Mallory sighs, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “Because it’s a strategic parenting technique to ensure a child eats all of his or her dinner. We went over this, Walker. If she opens presents first, then she’ll refuse to eat any food.”
“I not!” Lizzie proclaims, reaching for me next. The moment she’s in my arms, she whispers, “Pwease, Uncle Jasper? I’ve been weally dood all day!” Little hands wrap around my neck as she brushes a kiss on my cheek.
My heart literally turns to mush—in a very manly way, of course.
“Awww, why you gotta be so mean to Lizard?” I ask her mom, earning an eye roll.
“You men are all the same. She has you completely wrapped around her fingers,” Mallory grumbles, heading over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
I glance at Lizzie, who bats her little eyelashes at me, and I know I’m completely smitten. “One wouldn’t hurt, right?” I whisper.
Her eyes light up instantly as she shakes her head, little blonde ringlets flying about.
“Come on, little one. Let’s go see what’s in the office,” I murmur.
“Where are you going?” Mallory asks, eyeing us suspiciously.
“Nowhere.”
“To duh office!” Lizzie proclaims, pointing down the hallway.
I have a handful of gifts—okay, way more than I probably should—under the tree, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist giving her one gift early. Once we’re in the room, I set her down and grab the wrapped item on my desk and hand it to her. I drop to my knees and watch as she holds the gift in her hands, her eyes so full of young wonder and amazement. “Tan I open it now?”
“Of course! That’s why I brought you in here,” I tell her.
Lizzie drops to her butt, the small package on her lap, as she rips into the paper. She looks down at the book about princesses and grins. “Tan you wead it to me?”
I give her a big smile. “I’d love to after I finish cooking dinner, okay?” The front door opens and closes, heavy boots falling on the hardwood floor. “Actually, Tank just got here. I bet he’d love to read it to you,” I tell her, referring to Jameson. Lizzie can’t say his first name, so she refers to him by his nickname.
“Yay!” she bellows, jumping up and taking off running, book in her hand. “Tank!”
Chuckling, I hop up and follow in her wake. Just as I step into the hallway, there’s a gentle knock on the front door. A smile instantly spreads across my face.
Making my way to the door, I pull it open and find my two guests standing on the stoop. “Welcome,” I greet, stepping back so Lyndee and Dustin can enter.
“It just started to snow,” Lyndee states, shaking the snowflakes out of her hair and stomping her boots onto the mat, even though there’s no snow gathered yet.
“Let me take that,” I offer, reaching for the large containers of sweet treats. I can tell by the scent of sugar wafting from within.