The Twelve Dates of Christmas Read online

  Aiden glanced at his phone again, trying not to be increasingly irritated. If this guy wasn't going to show up, Aiden could be at home peeling himself out of his suit and microwaving a frozen burrito. He sighed, an action that clearly caught Liam’s attention.

  “Everything okay?”

  At that moment, Aiden caught sight of a man coming into the bar. Mr. Criswell. Aiden's glare disappeared, and he forced a smile and extended his hand as Mr. Criswell approached him, but the other man ignored it completely, electing to go in for a hug.

  Weird, Aiden thought but briefly returned the hug before pulling away. “Mr. Criswell?”

  The other man seemed to startle for a second, and then laughed. “Jonathan is fine,” he said somewhat awkwardly.

  Aiden couldn't help noticing how striking the man's features were. His light brown hair hung in waves surrounding his face, and his eyes were so blue they reminded Aiden of a glittering snowflake.

  “Jonathan,” he said, returning the smile. “I'm Aiden Palmer. It's a pleasure to meet you.” Aiden did another quick scan of the bar, but it still didn’t seem like any tables were open. He gestured to the empty stool beside him. “Please, have a seat.”

  Jonathan smiled and sat, unwrapping a scarf from around his neck. “Thank you.” He looked around, unbuttoning his gray peacoat to reveal a faded band t-shirt. “This place is amazing. Great suggestion.”

  Aiden had assumed Jonathan had suggested the bar, since it wasn’t where he normally met clients, but apparently it had been Chelsea. She always knew the best spots. He’d have to thank her for arranging for them to meet in Aiden’s neighborhood.

  “You look great,” Jonathan said, smiling brightly.

  Aiden blanched, but he was happy he’d kept his tie and jacket on. Professionalism was important.

  “Thank you.”

  Liam approached them, giving Jonathan the same easy smile Aiden had appreciated earlier. “Hi there. What can I get you?”

  “Oh, hi.” Jonathan returned the smile warmly. “Glass of white wine?”

  “Coming right up.”

  Liam turned, and Aiden didn’t miss the way Jonathan’s gaze flitted briefly to Liam’s ass.

  Aiden opened his mouth to ask what brought Jonathan to meet with him, ready to answer questions about his firm, when Jonathan surprised him.

  “So, are you all ready for the holidays?”

  Okay, sure. Aiden could do small talk. He knew it sometimes took a moment for people to warm up to the idea of talking about their legal issues — something that made his firm happy to charge by the hour. “Is anyone ever ready for them?” Aiden laughed, and Jonathan joined in.

  “I guess not.” He smiled as Liam came over and silently placed a wineglass in front of him, then stepped away. “So, does your family celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah or…”

  Aiden sat back an inch in his chair. Was Jonathan trying to figure out what religion he was? He studied Jonathan’s face, which was open and friendly and curious. Aiden wasn’t sure what his religion or holiday traditions had to do with how well he could represent anyone in a legal case, but he wasn’t shy about hiding his heritage.

  “I celebrate Hanukkah with my mother’s side of the family but exchange Christmas gifts with my father’s side.” He took a sip of his beer.

  “Fun! Twice the holidays then.”

  “I guess I’m an equal opportunity celebrater.”

  Jonathan laughed. “Oh, me too. I make it a point to celebrate every holiday equally. You should see the feast I make for Arbor Day.”

  Aiden grinned. “Oh yeah? And what do you do for Flag Day?”

  Jonathan leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Let’s just say it involves a Slip ‘N Slide and a lot of lube.”

  Aiden wasn’t sure what the appropriate response was to a statement like that from a potential client. “Well, that sounds messy.”

  “And so fun.” Jonathan grinned and took a sip of his wine. “So, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

  “Sure.” Lots of clients wanted to be reassured their legal representation had solid credentials. “I attended Dickinson for my undergraduate degree, then Penn for law school. I passed the bar exam in six states and have been practicing intellectual property law with Meriwether, Stokes, and Bramson for the past eight years.”

  Jonathan nodded encouragingly, seeming to want Aiden to continue. Maybe he wanted to know more about the firm?

  “Our law firm has been around since 1942.” Aiden waited for Jonathan to respond, or to ask more about the type of law Aiden specialized in or more details about the firm.

  “So, do you have any pets?”

  Years of practicing law gave Aiden an excellent poker face, but he knew right then his confusion had to be showing. “Um, no.” He gave a sad smile. “I’m not really home enough to give a pet the attention they would deserve.”

  Jonathan tsked. “That’s sad. I love animals. Are you a dog person or a cat person?”

  Aiden remembered the fish tank he’d had as a kid and the turtle he’d considered his only friend as his family had moved from military base to military base. But he wasn’t sure admitting to being a turtle person was going to go over well.

  Aiden cleared his throat. “Um, I don’t know. They’re both great.”

  Jonathan narrowed his eyes slightly and took another sip of his wine. He clearly wasn’t thrilled by that answer.

  Aiden took the opportunity the moment of silence afforded him to redirect the conversation. Jonathan seemed great, but if Aiden wanted to not die of starvation, they needed to get this meeting going.

  “So, why don’t you tell me what brought you to see me?” Aiden flipped open his padfolio, which was sitting on the bar, and pulled out his pen, poising it on the yellow legal pad. He looked up at Jonathan, who was staring at him, wide-eyed.

  “Um. Are you going to take notes?”

  Aiden nodded quickly. “Of course. It’s important that I’m able to recall specifics on everything we’ve discussed.”

  Jonathan furrowed his brow. “And you can’t just remember them?”

  Aiden laughed. “I wish. I do this so frequently that the details often run together. I need to know everything about your situation.”

  “Um, just how often do you do this?”

  “Several times a week sometimes.”

  Jonathan looked concerned, which seemed fair. No one wanted to think their attorney overpromised and underdelivered.

  Aiden spoke quickly in an attempt to reassure him. “Of course, once we have a contract in place, your needs become my first priority.”

  Jonathan seemed to choke on air. “A contract?” His voice was high and loud.

  Aiden couldn’t tell what was upsetting Jonathan, but he tried to calm him. “Yes, but it’s a standard contract I use with everyone. It’s really for your protection.”

  “Protection from what?” he screeched.

  Liam came over cautiously, still wearing his friendly smile, but his eyes were full of concern. “Everything okay over here?”

  Aiden gave him a tiny shrug because he had no idea what was happening. He looked back at Jonathan, panic creeping into every one of his features. Aiden reached a hand out in a gesture of comfort, but Jonathan stood so abruptly he knocked over his barstool before maneuvering himself out of Aiden’s reach. He grabbed his coat and scarf from the floor and clutched them tightly against his chest like a woolen shield.

  “Um, so you seem like an…” Jonathan paused, seemingly searching for the right word, “interesting person, but I don’t think this is going to work out.”

  Aiden just stared, slack jawed. What was happening right now? A quick glance at Liam’s face led Aiden to believe he had no idea either.

  Jonathan fumbled with his wallet, almost dropping it before pulling a twenty out with shaking hands and tossing it on the bar. “So, good luck to you. No judgement here! I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” He looked like he was ready to bolt but added one more th
ing. “There’s a place in West Creek where you might find someone. I think it’s called Chains.” With that, Jonathan tossed back the rest of his wine in one gulp and fled the bar.

  Aiden sat in stunned silence, staring at the door, until a throat cleared behind him. He turned to face Liam.

  “So, that happened.”

  Aiden shook his head. “I have no idea what is going on.”

  Liam frowned. “Are you okay? That was… loud.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just really confused.” He finished the last bit of beer in his glass. “I don’t know what set him off. We didn’t even get to start talking about his case.”

  Liam looked at Aiden, face full of sympathy. “So, I don’t normally insert myself into the business of our patrons — that never ends well — but you seem like a nice guy, so…”

  “What?” Aiden was so in the dark at that moment, any sliver of light Liam could shed on the subject would be appreciated.

  Liam hesitated. “I’m pretty sure that man thought he was on a date.”

  Aiden opened his mouth to deny that as even a remote possibility, but then the events of the disastrous evening swirled around in his brain.

  What holidays do you celebrate?

  Cats or dogs?

  How often do you do this?

  Aiden was going to murder Chelsea.

  Chapter 3

  Aiden drummed his fingers on his desk trying to read the brief in front of him, but his mind was somewhere else completely. He glanced at the clock. 8:55. Chelsea was usually in the office by eight or eight thirty, but her official starting time was nine. Aiden could only guess that he would be waiting another five minutes to confront her.

  After he'd left the bar the night before, red-faced and a little tipsy, he’d texted Chelsea approximately seventeen hundred times. Chelsea was always glued to her phone like a kid stuck to a window looking for Santa, but there had been no replies.

  He watched the secondhand creep slowly for three more minutes before Chelsea's bright smile bounced into the room.

  “Good morning,” she singsonged, placing a paper cup and small bag on Aiden's desk before walking over to her own.

  “You are in so much trouble,” Aiden growled at her.

  Chelsea unwound the scarf from her neck and shrugged out of her yellow peacoat, hanging them both on a small rack by the door.

  “They were out of vanilla, so I got you a cinnamon dolce latte. It sounded spicy and exotic.”

  If she thought she could ignore him, she had another thing coming. “Chelsea…” Aiden tried to put a warning tone in his voice.

  “But I got you a lemon poppyseed bagel from Avery’s too.”

  Well, shit. Now he wanted to yell at Chelsea, but he also kind of wanted to inhale his favorite breakfast. He didn’t often get the unique treat, since the bakery was on the other side of town, but he could count on Chelsea to bring it to him whenever she wanted forgiveness or a favor. The bagel was his favorite, but he could do without the aftertaste of bribery.

  No, Aiden. Yelling now, bagel later.

  “Chelsea,” he said, his voice slightly louder than usual.

  Her head snapped up, and she looked at him with an innocent expression on her face. “Yes, Aiden?”

  He pulled out all the stops and gave her his most grave and leveling look because this was serious business. “Chelsea, your recent behavior was unacceptable. It does not reflect well on me, the firm, or yourself. I cannot continue to tolerate this type of behavior, and your actions yesterday were the last straw. I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go.”

  Chelsea stared at Aiden, wide-eyed, for all of two seconds before she burst into laughter. “Oh, wow, you almost had me there.”

  “Chelsea,” he whined, “what the hell? How could you do that to me?”

  Chelsea wiped away an errant tear — caused no doubt by her laughing fit and utter amusement at herself at Aiden’s expense. “Well?” she asked when she’d collected herself enough to speak.

  “Well what?”

  “How did it go?”

  “How did what go?”

  “Your date,” she said pointedly.

  “Oh,” Aiden said, not even bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “You mean the business meeting I had scheduled last night, right? Because that’s where you told me I was going?”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Yes, fine, that’s what I said to get you there, but you must’ve known as soon as he arrived that I had set you up on a date.”

  “No!” His voice rose higher. “No, I mustn’t have known that! I did not fully realize what you had done until Jonathan had fled the bar in fear.”

  Chelsea’s eyes were huge, and she collapsed into her chair, then put her elbows on her desk and placed her chin on both of her closed fists. “Oh my god. Tell me everything.”

  “Well, I think you know the high points now.”

  “Aiden! I need details!”

  “Chelsea! We are not going to sit here and discuss this, pretending that what you did was not the worst thing anyone has ever done to another human being.”

  She arched a brow. “I once saw someone with a Spongebob Squarepants tattoo on her face.” She leaned in. “On her face, Aiden! So, no, I don’t think setting you up on a secret love connection is the worst thing one person can do to another.”

  “Agree to disagree.” He sighed. “What would possess you to do that? What were you thinking?”

  “Oh my god though, wasn’t he the cutest? He was like a tiny little vintage punk rock geek. So cute.”

  Aiden couldn’t disagree. He hadn’t been looking at Jonathan that way, since he was supposed to be a potential client, but he certainly did have an adorable look about him.

  “Do you think you’ll go out again?”

  “I’m sorry, I believe you missed the part where I said he ran from the bar, thinking I was going to tie him up and whip him or something.”

  Chelsea squealed in laughter. “Oh my god, he didn’t. Stop being dramatic.”

  “Chelsea.” He enunciated very carefully. “He suggested that I look for my next date at Chains.”

  Chelsea choked on a sip of her coffee. “That kinky sex club over in West Creek?”

  “Yeah, and I can’t say that I blame him. I had no idea what was going on, and I was talking to him about contracts for his protection.”

  Chelsea snorted. “Oh my god. This is like, the best story ever.”

  “Honestly, if it weren’t for Liam, I’d still be sitting there wondering what the hell had happened.”

  Chelsea raised an eyebrow. “Liam?”

  Aiden shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, the bartender at Sidewalk’s End.”

  Chelsea nodded.

  “Seriously though, Chelsea, what the hell? You decided December is the best time to pull pranks on unsuspecting victims?”

  She held a hand to her heart and gave him a wounded look. ”Aiden, I am devastated you think I would do such a thing.”

  He stared at her blankly.

  “I was helping you. You’ve been single long enough.”

  “I’m not ready,” he began to protest, but Chelsea held up her hand.

  “I am not implying you should go and get married tomorrow to the first guy you meet.”

  Whenever Aiden had thought of his own wedding, it had always been Justin beside him at the altar, and he was having difficulty adjusting that image in his mind.

  “But,” Chelsea continued, “if you don’t start meeting people, you’ll never find someone. You have to go to this holiday party, whether you want to or not, and I know that you’ll have a much better time if you have something to focus on aside from getting drunk and staring at Justin and his new boyfriend the entire night.”

  Aiden sighed. She was not wrong. But he still didn’t feel like it was the right time for him to move forward. “Where did you even find that guy?”

  Chelsea grinned, clearly very thrilled with herself. “I posted a LoveMatcher profile for yo
u.”

  “You what! On the dating app?”

  “Oh, relax. I used a super cute picture of you.”

  “That’s not the point even in the slightest. How could you do that?”

  “I was helping, Aiden. You’re welcome.”

  “I am not thanking you for tricking me into going on a date with some random guy.”

  “Well,” she said saucily, “that random guy could’ve been your date to the holiday party if you hadn’t scared him away.”

  Aiden pressed his lips together, unable to come up with any appropriate response. He took a deep breath in through his nose and released it slowly through his mouth, attempting to center himself. “Okay, I understand what you were trying to do. I” — he couldn’t bring himself to thank her — “appreciate how much you care about me.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “I just want you to be happy.”

  “I know. So while your actions were completely inappropriate, I understand the intent.” He added, “You are no longer fired.”

  Chelsea snorted. “Yeah, I was never fired. You would basically fall apart without me.”

  Again, she was not wrong, but Aiden wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of agreeing with her. “Well, at least it’s over, and we don’t have to worry about a night like that ever again.”

  Chelsea took a sip from her coffee but wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Right?” he asked.

  She began paging through some files on her desk.

  “Right, Chelsea?” Aiden asked loudly.

  “Well…”

  Aiden felt lightheaded. Chelsea’s wells were never good.

  “I got more than one response to your profile.”

  “So?”

  “So, there were a lot of really hot guys! I may have had trouble narrowing it down to one.”

  “How many responses did you get?”

  “Let’s see…” Chelsea pulled out her phone and made a few quick swipes. “Twenty-eight.” Her phone chimed in her hand, and she let out a giggle. “Make that twenty-nine.”

  “The profile is still up?”

  “Well, yeah. I’m cultivating a varied and diverse group of men — all very excited to woo you.” She pulled out a pen and a small notebook. “So what was it you didn’t like about Jonathan? I’ll be sure to avoid those characteristics for your next date.”