A smile turns up the corner of his lips. “Sounds like they love you a lot.”
“They do. I’m very lucky.” I reel at my own use of the word. Lucky has never been in my vocabulary, and now it has been used to describe me twice in one day. “So, what’s up? You wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Yeah, I . . .” he starts, while he rubs the back of his neck again, which I’m starting to think must be a nervous habit.
I look at the clock on the nightstand. I am officially five minutes late for the wine tasting. At least it’s being held downstairs now.
He follows my gaze and stiffens. “Sorry, you must be anxious to get back to the group.”
I do want to finish getting ready, mostly to keep my promise to help cover for Leah, but I am also curious about what he has to say. “It’s fine, I have a few minutes.”
He nods silently and looks down at the hardwood floor for a solid minute before he continues. “I wanted to finish our conversation about the records. From when we were in my office earlier.”
“Oh.” I rock back on my feet. Something tells me that this is not what he actually came here to say, but I play along anyway. Maybe he just needs a little time to warm up. “Do you mean about the Christmas record I was looking for?”
“Yeah, that.”
“I didn’t see it, so I don’t think you have it,” I say, and sneak a glance at the clock again.
He tilts his head to the side as he meets my gaze. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. Unless you keep more somewhere else, but I think I looked through all of your holiday albums.”
“What’s the name of it?” he asks. “I own every holiday record worth having.”
I laugh out loud at how pretentious he sounds, and he smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”
I accept his apology, but I still have the overwhelming urge to mess with him and push back against his confidence. It’s not likeChristmas with the Chipmunksis a musical feat, but it’s my family’s favorite holiday album, so that’s worth something.
“The one I am thinking of came out in the sixties, so maybe that’s why you aren’t familiar,” I say, knowing for a fact that my comment will strike a nerve because every collector knows that the sixties and seventies are the golden age of vinyl.
He scoffs, just like I knew he would. “I haveChristmas with the Miracles, The Beach Boys album, Barbra Streisand’s—”
“Yeah, I saw all of those. The one I was looking for is pretty niche. You probably haven’t even heard of it, honestly.”
“I’m sure I’ve heard of it. Try me.”
I bite my lip to keep from smiling. I shouldn’t take pleasure in teasing him like this, but it’s the most fun I’ve had all day. “I don’t know. If you’d heard it before, you definitely would have considered itone of the greats.”
“Tell me,” he demands, but his tone is playful.
“I really need to get dressed,” I say, changing the subject. I turn towards the bed where I discarded my dress and pick it back up.
“Not even a clue?” he asks from behind me.
“Are we making this a game, now?”
He nods. “I think we should.”
I head back towards the closet to get changed since this might take a while, and leave the door cracked so we can continue our conversation. “So, you try and guess what record I am thinking of with what? Ten hints?”
“Ten!” he repeats, offended, from back in the bedroom. “I bet I can guess it with one good hint.”
“I don’t know . . .” I call out from behind the door and kick my ratty airport clothes into the corner while I slip the periwinkle dress over my head. It is long-sleeved and knit, which will keep me warm, but it also clings to every single curve on my body, which I don’t love. “Doesn’t the fact that it’s a Christmas album from the sixties count as two hints already?”
“Fine, five hints,” he concedes.
I push open the door and head straight to the sink to use the mirror that hangs above it. Monika was right, the light blueish-lavender tone of this dress does make my eyes stand out. They look more golden than brown as I wet my hands and drag them through my unruly hair. The vanity part of the bathroom is open to the rest of the bedroom, so I catch Cameron watching me in the reflection. My breath locks in my chest as he continues to look at me with clear, but respectful, appreciation.
