Isabella knew all about Dylan, because he came up often in their weekly phone chats. Her smile pinched as she maintained her composure and offered Dylan her gloved hand. “Very nice to meet you, Dylan. Maybe I’ll have you in class someday?”
“You’re a teacher?”
“Professor, yes. At Columbia.”
“In South America?”
She lost the war, a laugh snorting free as she covered her mouth and apologized.
“The university, not the country.”
Dylan’s cheeks flushed as he edged toward the door. “Oooh! Right, I knew that. Nice to meet you, Izzy. Have a great holiday, Mr. L!”
“He is amazing.”
“He called you Izzy. You’re in the squad, or whatever they call it now.”
“I don’t even know. My students mostly mumble at me and complain I give them too much work.”
“Sounds familiar. We really should be sainted, you know?”
She chuckled and leaned a hip on his desk while peeling off her layers. It was brisk outside. The sort of heavy chill that smacked of snow, though it had been a while since they’d seen a white Christmas.
“Sainted would be nice. I would also take a pay raise and more vacation time. Or tenure. Tenure would be great.”
Heath grunted in agreement while sifting through the mess on his desk. Priority work got stuffed into his bag, while things that could wait would rot in the cabinet at his feet.
“You’re in town early, missy. I hadn’t planned on seeing you until next week.”
“I know. I thought about warning you, but I decided I wanted to surprise you instead.”
“Mission accomplished. Do you have plans for tonight?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. My good friend Heath is taking me to his favorite bar to introduce me tohissquad.”
Heath snickered. “Are you sure he’s your good friend if he’s taking you drinking at a gay bar with a group of gossipy old hags?”
“Actually, that makes him one of my best friends. So get moving.”
“My God,Heath. I would never have expected you to go straight, but thank God you’ve done it with impeccable taste.”
They’d only just walked in the door, but already the sarcasm was flowing. Approaching his friends at their usual table, Heath dipped his mouth to Isabella’s ear and whispered, “Three guesses who that is. First two don’t count.”
She laughed and hugged his arm. “Andres, no question.”
“You win a margarita and a bottle of ibuprofen. You’ll need both once he gets going.”
“I can hear you, you know.”
Manuel sat at one end of the long, curved booth, his arm snugged around his husband’s shoulders. Only one of Andres’ loves had been able to make it, and Shawn looked radiant in the shimmery collar he’d received as an early holiday gift.
Isabella saw it and gasped, gesturing to her own neck and giving him a thumbs up. The younger man responded with a beaming smile and preened shamelessly.
They slid into the booth and ordered another round, the conversation neatly turning to holiday plans and who was going where with whom. It was tradition for Heath to spend Christmas Eve with his mother and then make the rounds on Christmas Day. With Isabella visiting, he’d given her the option to join him if she didn’t have plans of her own, and she’d promised to get back to him.
“Have you decided, my dear?”
“Yes and no.”
