When I was placed in the back of a cruiser in handcuffs which were not nearly as much fun as I’d been led to believe by that one guy I dated last fall, I gave Chet a long dark look. He was actually classically handsome, in an Anthony Mackie with silver highlights kind of way. Actually he was smoking hot even if he did have sidewalk grit in his closely cropped hair. Mona was standing on the curb calling me vile names in Spanish as we were about to be taken to the nearest precinct and be locked up until I was no longer young, hot, and the best window dresser in New York.
“You sure know how to start the holiday season off with a bang. What do you have planned next? Popping all the balloons? Delaying Santa? Stealing candy canes from small children?” Chet asked as we pulled away from my irate assistant. Mona wasn’t the only one cussing then.
We made a circle of the block as the two of us in the back seat glowered at each other. Officer Delancey told the cop driving to park in front of Billing’s then he turned to look at us humped up in the rear.
“Okay, here’s how this is going to go. You two are going to shake and make up, then you’re going to go get a cup of coffee and discuss what you’ve learned from this little adventure. I will be dropping by to check on you both over the next week, and if I find out you didn’t meet for coffee and work things out, I will haul your asses in for assaulting an officer. We understand each other gentlemen?”
“Yes, Officer. I’m sorry I allowed myself to be pulled into such childish behavior. We’ll get this dispute settled,” Chet said. I muttered along as well, saying what Chet had said but with more panache and flair obviously. The two cops exchanged looks. I chewed on my lower lip. An hour had passed and now I was strapped big time to complete my job before the store manager Ebenezer Flatulence aka Milton Hoberman arrived at eight. He was a vicious bitch who would fire people simply for the thrill of watching his underlings weep. If the front window weren’t done in time for the parade I’d be selling brochures on the street corner or peddling phone cases over in Central Park. Neither idea appealed. We were then taken out of the cop car, our cuffs removed, and given one more dour speech before the cops rolled away. Cheek between my teeth I glanced up and down 5th Avenue, rubbed the toe of my boot along the sidewalk, and mumbled an apology to Chet.
“I’m sorry as well. I generally don’t do such immature things but you just hit my buttons,” Chet replied. I glanced his way. Soft little snowflakes drifted downward to rest on his hair momentarily. One landed on his cheek then melted. I had an insane urge to reach out to swipe the droplet away. While I was trying to process that mind-melting yearning, Mona came thundering down the sidewalk with Chet’s assistant at her side. Both were fit to be tied.
“I know, I know, I cost us time,” I shouted to be heard over my friend’s tirade.
“Why are you such a hothead? You always go off like a hair trigger like this when you’re not on your meds. Did you stop taking them again?” Mona snapped, her pink scarf dangling down to the sidewalk. She sucked at crocheting especially with ending things, so every scarf she makes could span the Brooklyn Bridge.
“They make me sluggish and I knew with the window crush coming…” I fumbled the reply like a toddler caught stuffing shoes into the toilet then shrugged. Chet now appeared concerned. Aw, that was sweet. Cute and caring. I might have misjudged him. I tended to do that a lot when I went off my meds.
“Get back on them tomorrow. Today. Whatever. What are we going to do?! We will never get done now. I so want to yell at you more but I’ll shout at him instead. You,” she rounded on Chet who actually took a step back. “You’re old enough to know better than to engage such a prima donna queen like this! Gay elders. Pfft. You looked like a gay kindergartener out there whipping snowballs at cops.”
My tingling awareness of Chet began to hum a bit louder, as if someone had tapped a tuning fork. Gay elder. Did I hear correctly? Gay? I stuck my pinkie in my left ear and wiggled it just in case some gunky melted city snow had blocked my ear canal. Wow, he looked chagrined. Which made him even sexier. Still a cheater though. Cheater, cheater, reindeer eater. Maybe not self. Maybe it was a case of great minds working alike. Yeah, that was probably it. He smiled. I had to grab a streetlight to keep from puddling on the sidewalk like yesterday’s snow. Wow. Just wow. When he smiled he was even hotter. Where was my bonnet? I needed to get out of the sun, I was feeling faint. It’s four am you bonehead, there is no sun. Stop drooling. He’s an idea thief. A nicker of ideas. A sexy St. Nicker!
Chet lifted his hands in the air, and the man with him began to chuckle. Was that young stud his boyfriend? His son? Just a helper? Why did I care? Did I care? No. Not at all. Nope. Not caring. Such nice cheekbones Chet had though…
“You’re right. I let this handsome young man—”
“Jakob French. With a K.” I quickly offered him my hand. Mona continued to glower but the glare level was decreasing. “Jakob with a K, not French with a K. I mean, obviously since French has no K.” He took my hand, long fingers wrapping around my fingers, and I felt a sudden jolliness settling in my groin. He had warm hands, rough from working for a living. We shook a few times then we continued to stand there in the snow with a scowling Latina and some guy who looked more and more familiar as time went on.
“Chester Wallace, but my friends call me Chet.” Time ticked on yet the hands were still clasped. I was tingly all over, and I suspected Chet was now feeling a little holly-jolly in his britches as well. I lowered my lashes and was about to sprinkle him with coy when Mona poked me in the side. Hard. I yelped, my hand flying from Chet’s manly grip.
“If you two don’t mind, Ron and I would like to get home sometime before New Year’s Day,” Mona huffed, slinging her scarf around her neck fourteen times. The woman really needed to learn how to make a damn knot. Ron. Oh! Ron. Her boyfriend. Yes, Oh course. Ron. Good old Ron.
“Did Ron always work for Billing’s?” I asked. She poked me again, so hard I felt two ribs spread. “Stop it! You have hard fingers for a woman.”
“Yes. Yes he has always worked for Billing’s. He’s been there for five years. Oh my God, you are so scatterbrained. How do you think I know Chet?”
“I’m not scatterbrained. Please. I’m just one of those rare people who have a mind that recycles things quickly.” Which was true. It was a curse. “Which is important to help save the planet. Hashtag recycle unimportant thoughts,” I said to be witty. Chet smiled. I flushed prettily. Ron rolled his eyes and Mona took hold of my arm and began yanking on it. “Ouch! Stop, okay, I’m done flirting! What’s the point of rushing back? When old Ebenezer shows up at eight we’re fired anyway. There is no way two people can finish that window in four hours. Curse my spunky yet endearing gingery temper!”
“We’ll help,” Chet said as a newspaper delivery truck rumbled past. Mona and I gaped. He reached up to rub that back of his neck. A nice long neck if I did so say myself. “It was partly my fault for engaging Jakob’s folly.” I felt my cheeks grow warm. “And I did hit that cop in the back of the head with a snowball. The least I can do is help. I’d hate to see you get fired. Your window dressings are always so full of life.”