The Christmas Deal

Seth certainly had been earlier, and now it rushed back. He tried to shrug it off. “A little, I guess. It’s fine. I should get moving so I can change before Angela and Dale get here.” She’d invited her assistant along to make it a foursome for dinner, which made sense.

“Oh, shit. What am I supposed to wear?” The mop was hissing again, and Logan peered down at it suspiciously.

“Just a dress shirt and slacks? Maybe a tie?” Seth asked hopefully.

“Uh…” Logan experimentally pushed the mop, seeming pleased when the wet pad slid across the floor. “I have a set of nice clothes I wear to job interviews somewhere. Haven’t needed to dress up, so I probably shoved them in one of my bags. I put all my stuff in your room, by the way. Pillow and blanket too. Do you have an iron?”

The idea of not having an iron was like not having a refrigerator, but Seth only nodded. “I do. And a trouser press. I’ll show you after we finish here.”

Soon they had Logan’s slacks pressing, and Seth ran the iron over the cheap white dress shirt. He wished Logan could wear one of his, but his shoulders were too broad. Logan said, “Got it!” as he extricated a crumpled tie from a duffel bag.

“Er… Would you like to borrow one of mine?” Please borrow one of mine.

Logan laughed. “Sure. Boss lady has expensive taste. In the closet?”

“Yes, there’s a rack.”

A low whistle sounded. “Is there ever. You have a shit-ton of ties.”

“I suppose I do. Here, let me see. Put this on.”

The dark green tie had silver highlights, and it complemented Logan’s hazel-y eyes. As Logan fiddled with the knot, Seth found himself reaching up and gently knocking Logan’s hands away. He fixed the knot and straightened Logan’s collar, Logan’s breath puffing across Seth’s face.

“There,” Seth said, his voice hitching. He cleared his throat. “Suits you.”

“I’ll try not to spill on it. And don’t worry—it’s going to be fine.” Logan squeezed Seth’s shoulder, sending warmth spiraling through him. “We can fake it.”

The warmth fled, and Seth backed away, nodding. He bumped into the wall. “Yep! I’ll go check on the potatoes.”

He escaped to the kitchen, all beautiful and gleaming now thanks to Logan, and tried to focus on the meal. Yes, it was time to be professional. This was for his career, and Logan was right.

We can fake it.

Chapter Twelve

“It is such a treat to be in a real-live home.” Angela tinkled with jewelry as she walked, her sparkly earrings Christmas wreaths this time with diamonds and rubies and emeralds—or really shiny fakes, but Logan figured they were the real deal.

She’d also changed from her high-heeled boots into a pair of red-soled stilettos that tapped the wood floors with her confident strides through Seth’s sitting room and into the open kitchen.

Fiddling with his tie, Logan stared at the shoes, trying to remember what they were called. When he looked up, he realized Angela had noticed. Laughing awkwardly, he said, “Uh, nice shoes. Are they French or something?”

“You have an eye for fashion, huh?” Angela beamed. “The gays often do! They’re Loubou-tin.”

Dale cleared his throat, looking like he wanted to say something, but after a second, he just smiled without teeth. Since Seth was by the kitchen island looking like a deer in the headlights, apparently already freaking out having the boss lady in his house, Logan needed to say something.

So because he was a moron, he said, “My wife wanted a pair of those. She saw them on TV or something.”

Angela’s shiny red lips formed an O before she tilted her head sympathetically. “I understand she passed.”

He choked down his irritation at the wording and nodded. “Uh, anyway.”

Seth asked too loudly, “Can I get you both a drink?”

“I’ll have a G and T,” Dale said—whatever that was. He’d arrived wearing a dark suit but had left the jacket of it hanging with his coat.

Angela was still fixed on Logan. “I think it’s remarkable that you’ve been able to find happiness again. And with a man! Love is love.”

He nodded, not looking at Seth. Not thinking about how much happier he really had been the past week or so. “Thanks.” He thought of Veronica again, guilt bubbling up.

Seth toured Angela and Dale around, and Logan was pleased that they complimented the holiday decorations. He had to say that the tree looked damn good, tall and glittery with colorful lights and balls and everything. It made the great room really cozy, especially with the gas fire burning. He’d debated between a star and angel on top, and decided Seth was an angel type of guy.

Once Angela and Dale had their cocktails, complete with fancy stir sticks, Seth put out trays of little appetizers on the great room’s coffee table, and they sat there talking about BRK and Angela’s kids and cheerleading. Angela was like one of those old toys that you wound up, and Logan was more than happy to nod and smile and let her yammer on. Seth and Dale seemed to be too.