Ugly Sweater Weather

"Oh, well, if there was a vibe," he said, rolling his eyes at me. "Alright, look. I know you know Dea better than I do, but I know women better as a whole. And they like a man who knows what he wants and confidently goes after it."

"I am confidently going after it."

"At a snail's pace."

"Better than not moving at all," I insisted.

"Fine fine fine. Just... don't miss your shot, okay? I love Dea."

"You only love her because she was your first client when you opened your place."

"Well, there is that," Clarence agreed, smiling. "Even if she hates everything to do with spas."

"She's ticklish, that's why she hates massages."

"She hated every treatment," he insisted. "Massage, facial, cupping, wrap, pedicure."

"If I remember correctly, she loved the manicure." For about half a day, tapping her artificial nails on every surface, loving the clicking noise. Until she tried to type with them on and shampoo her hair. Then she was soaking them off with nail polish remover before work the next day.

"Not enough to come back," he insisted, faking a pout.

"Please, you're doing well enough without her."

He was, too. From a start-up using a small inheritance our grandparents had left him to a thriving business that had a three-month wait list. And some of the names on that list were the sort who had millions of followers on social media.

He might not have followed the doctor path after our parents like Noel had, but he was doing well for himself. We were all proud. And I'd heard Dea occasionally name-drop Clarence when someone brought up his spa.

"I know you are waiting for the right moment," Clarence said, finishing his latte. "I just want to remind you that sometimes you have to make the right moment."

"That's the point of these twelve days," I reminded him. Each one of them, once I had thought them out, had a romantic opportunity linked to them. I figured the lingering glance from the night before was a step in the right direction. And if we took enough of those, it was bound to lead where I was hoping.

"Okay okay. I'll stop nagging. Well, no, I won't," he said, getting off the couch. "But I will wait to nag you until after this date. Keep me updated."

"Will do," I agreed as he leaned down to pat Lillybean's head. "Oh, and don't forget her carriage," he said, waving toward the fold-up dog carriage he'd bought for her. "I know Lockjaw can take all the walking, but she's got little legs. Don't want her cramping your style. I mean, how can you kiss the girl if you are holding a dog?"

"Fair point," I agreed, even if it was a blow to my ego anytime I did take that dog carriage out. In general, I was fine with all of Lillybean's many needs. Which included jackets—both a winter and a rain one—and a carry-on bag and even little booties in the snowy weather. It was just the carriage that got to me.

But it was a long walk.

And Lillybean got worn out quickly.

So when it was time, I got changed, loaded Lillybean into her carriage, and headed out, reminding myself that while Clarence was right to a point, I knew what I was doing, I was taking my time but making sure I wasn't missing any opportunities.

"Lock, stop," Dea demanded, trying to pull the beast down when he jumped up on the carriage to greet his girl. "You're going to break it, bub," she added.

"She can walk for a bit," I said, unloading her, letting the two love birds greet each other.

"Smart bringing the carriage. We might want the cupholders. So, hot chocolate?"

"Yep. Follow me, I know a place," I said, leading her down a side street.

"Oh, you know all the best places," she declared a few minutes later, eyes bright as she looked in the window of the cafe.

To be fair, Adie's was a great cafe every month of the year. But it was extra exceptional around the holidays when she would actually close her doors for forty-eight hours, pull in all her workers, and set everyone to work transforming the place into a winter wonderland.

The ceiling completely disappeared behind strings of thick garland covered in white lights, silver and gold bulbs, red ribbon, pinecones, and icicles. Mistletoe was hung in every doorway. And any brave couple who kissed under them got free cookies with their purchases.

"Are they serious?" Dea asked after we put Lock and Lillybean's leashes on a bar out front, heading inside. She was pointing to the sign explaining the mistletoe rules, brow raised, smile unsure.

In response, I nodded toward the set of strangers who moved up to the counter at the same time to place their orders, having their barista point above them where a mistletoe was hung, explaining the situation.