Hello, everyone! Sorry I disappeared for a while again. I've been going through a lot, and kind of lost my writing mojo for a bit. But, after watching A LOT of Gilmore girls and seeing some of my favorite TV characters going through a lot of bad dates to get to the good ones, I decided to get back into the swing of things with this little fic.
(*Update not even five minutes after I posted: forgot to mention this story has no beta, so all mistakes, though I try to fix them all, are completely mine.*)
This fic will be short, sweet and (hopefully) funny. Each chapter will be around 2k and will have very little angst.
So, without further adieu, here is The 12 Dates of Christmas.
Chapter 1: The Vegan
I hate Christmas.
I know, I know, that's a terrible thing to say. Who hates Christmas? It's the happiest time of the year, you get to spend time with your loved ones, there's great music, you get to give and receive presents, blah, blah, blah. I've heard it all before.
I didn't always hate Christmas, but I think it all started when I was about nine and caught dad eating the cookies I set out for Santa. He felt bad, but it wasn't his fault that I was a little shit and decided to sneak downstairs to try and catch a sight of Santa Claus.
I got over it fairly quickly. Though every year after that wasn't very good either.
There was the year when I was fourteen and had strep throat. When I was sixteen, I had a broken arm. When I was twenty, I got the flu.
And now, I'm twenty-eight years old and still haven't gotten married. Hell, I haven't even had a date in almost a year.
That's all going to change starting with a date for the annual Christmas Eve party at work.
I've never been one for New Year's resolutions; this time, though, I'm determined to lead a happier life, and I've decided that means I need to find someone to spend the rest of my life with.
Hopefully.
"Spinach, spinach, spinach... where the hell is it?"
I walk back and forth in front of the produce section of the grocery story, searching for the item that I need. I pass by the bell peppers for the third time and still can't find it.
"Damn it!" I grumble a little louder than I meant to.
"What are you looking for?" I hear next to me. I look up to see a very handsome man smiling at me. His blue eyes are sparkling and his teeth are very white and straight. He almost looks like a surfer. I don't normally go for long hair, but his blonde ponytail suits him and I find myself grinning back.
"Hi," I say, gesturing at the vegetables in front of me. "I was hoping to find some fresh spinach to make into a salad for dinner, but I can't find it."
"Ah, that's what I came for, too," he tells me, lifting his hands, palms up, and slapping them gently down at his sides. "They're out."
"Damn again," I say, frowning. "Well, I guess I'll just settle for bagged spinach."
"Here, this is a good brand," he says, picking up a package of the leafy greens and holding it out to me. "Or at least I think it is."
"Thanks, um..."
"James," he says, now holding out his hand for me to shake.
"Bella," I tell him, letting his slender hand envelop my own.
I'm about to walk away with my cart when James calls out to me.
"Hey, how about instead of a spinach salad for dinner, you come out with me," he says.
"Oh, um..." I hesitate, biting the corner of my thumbnail. I think about his offer and then remember my resolution. "Okay. There's an amazing restaurant over on third. They have great salads. What do you say to tonight at seven?"
"Sure, sounds good to me," he says, raising a hand in farewell. "See you tonight, Bella."
"See ya, James," I say.
I walk toward the breakfast aisle with a goofy grin on my face and a little skip in my step.
That wasn't so hard.
At ten to seven, I walk into my favorite Italian restaurant, La Botte, wearing my favorite little black dress with the scoop neckline and purple high heels. A sparkly beaded bag hangs from my shoulder, the little silver jewels glittering in the low light of the lobby. The thing looks like a five year old's dress up play toy, but I love it. I found it at a flea market for fifty cents; it's my lucky purse.
"Hello, I'm meeting someone here," I say to the pretty girl with strawberry blonde hair at the hostess desk. Her name tag reads Tanya. "Could you tell me if he's here yet? His name is James."
"Let me check," she says cheerfully, scanning her pencil down a list of names and pursing her pink lips. She then shakes her head. "No one has made any reservations under that name. I can seat you, if you'd like. It's Saturday, so it's going to get pretty busy soon."
"Yes, please," I say eagerly. "Table for two."
I follow the girl's swishing skirt to a table situated near the center of the dining room. She wasn't kidding—the place is already filling up. I let my gaze wander around and can only count three empty tables, including the one she's leading me to.
As I wait for James, I peruse the menu and come up with a few things to recommend to my date. He might like the steak, or maybe even just a chicken Caesar salad. One of my favorites is the raviolis that come with a long list of fillings to choose from.
"Hi, there."
I look up to see the waiter standing beside me. I blink once, slowly, surprised by what I see.
The man before me is nothing like who I thought would be waiting my table tonight. Instead of the usual suit and tie that most of the men wear when they work at this particular place, he's wearing just a plain long-sleeved white button up (no tie), black Dickie's pants, and black leather boots. His hair is all different shades of reds, browns and golds and unlike the other employees here, it's left in complete disarray.
"I'm Edward, and I'll be your server tonight," he says smoothly, his voice soft and polite and not at all bored and stiff sounding like most people I've met at places like this. "What can I start you off with? Some wine? Maybe some bruschetta to start with?"
God, the way his tongue rolls over the Italian appetizer makes me want to melt.
"Um, I'm meeting someone," I say, my statement coming out more like a question and my voice squeaking like a little girl's.
"No problem," he says with a shrug. "I'll come back."
I catch myself staring as he walks away, my eyes glued to that perfectly shaped ass, and-
"Bella!"
James appears in front of me, making me jump a little in surprise. He looks just the same as this afternoon, with the exception that he changed from a t-shirt into a polo shirt. His hair is perfectly slicked back; it shines golden under the low lights.
"Hey, James," I answer just a beat too late, my mind still reeling at the sight of our waiter.
"Am I late?" James asks, taking the seat opposite me.
"Nope, I was early," I assure him.
We both open our menus and spend a few awkward silent moments looking through them. My eyes stare blankly at the page in front of me—I already decided what I wanted before I even got here.
"Hmm," I hear James hum, and I glance up over the top of my menu.
"Everything looks good, doesn't it?" I smile, but he frowns.
"I had hoped we were going to some place... different," he says slowly, his frown deepening the longer he reads.
"Oh?" I ask, not sure what he's getting at.
"Yeah," he says, sighing and shaking his head. "I'm a vegan, so I don't normally go to places like this."
"Oh," I repeat, my eyes widening. "Well, we could go somewhere else, if you'd like."
Before he can answer, Edward shows up again.
"I see your date has shown up," he says, nodding to James. "How are you this evening, sir?"
"Fine," James grunts, and without a moment's thought, he continues on to order. "I'll have a green salad, plain, no dressing, and a water."
"You got it," Edward says, ignoring the sour puss at the table, and turning to me with a smile. "And for the lady?"
"I'll have a glass of white wine, and-"
"Shouldn't you be writing this down?" James interrupts.
"Got it all up here," Edward says, tapping his temple with two fingers. He then rests his hands on his hips and I notice a sliver of ink poking out under his sleeves.
"Um, and the spaghetti and meatballs. Please," I add.
"Coming right up," Edward says cheerfully before walking away to put in our order.
"So..." I start, after nearly a full minute of silence. "How long have you been a vegan?"
"Since I was twelve and my dad brought me to a slaughter-house," he says grumpily, and then leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Do you know how many innocent baby cows get murdered every year?"
"No, but I can tell you how many pairs of shoes are in my closet right now," I offer, giving a small smile.
"Do you own any leather?" James asks suspiciously, his eyes narrowing, making his once clear baby blues look dark and menacing.
"No?" I say uncertainly, knowing full well that my new favorite boots are made out of fine Italian leather.
"Hmph."
I try to make some more small talk over the next fifteen minutes, but every answer James gives is punctuated by a huff or a sigh as he glares at the people around us enjoying their meals. At one point, when a couple near us is served a steak, he actually very rudely states that he hopes they enjoy their "dead carcass on a plate".
I can't be any happier than I am when our food arrives.
"All right, here's the green salad, no dressing," Edward says, expertly balancing a large tray on one hand as he sets a bowl in front of James with the other. "White wine, and spaghetti."
"Thank you," I say sincerely, picking up a fork so I can dig in.
"If you'd like, I can move the salt and pepper shakers, and we can move your food to the middle so that you can share a meatball, Lady and the Tramp style," Edward jokes, making me giggle.
"No thanks," James says, emphasizing the second word.
"Just thought I would offer," Edward says with a chuckle as he steps away. "Please, enjoy."
We sit in huffy silence again. I have a hard time eating due to the way James keeps shooting me dirty looks. Quicker than anticipate, my glass of wine is empty. About halfway through my meal, I give up eating and put my fork down, tired of my date's attitude.
"Tell me about yourself, James," I say, and then quickly go on. "What do you do for work? Do you enjoy what you do?"
"I work at the vitamins store across town," he says grumpily.
"Neat," I say lamely. I tap my finger on the tabletop for a moment and try to come up with another question I can ask about him, hoping to loosen him up. "Any brothers or sisters?"
"No," he says, wrinkling his nose as another meat dish passes by.
"How are we doing over here? Are we slowing down?"
Edward is at my side again, still keeping the mood light and pretending that I'm not sitting with the world's worst date.
"Could I get a box, please?" I ask, pointing at my leftover dinner.
"Sure, I'll box that up for you," he says, taking the plate. "Any dessert tonight?"
"Yes, I'll have a cannoli," I tell him as he takes James' barely touched plate. As he takes it, I see James scoff and shake his head for the hundredth time this evening. "What?" I ask.
"You do know that they torture the cows when they steal their milk, don't you?" he asks heatedly.
My eyes widen in amazement and then swiftly narrow into anger.
"I'll take that dessert now, Edward," I say quietly.
"Are you sure?" he asks; I can't tell if he means about the dessert or handling James.
"Yes, I'm sure," I tell him.
Once he's left, I turn on James.
"What is wrong with you?" I demand. "You've been nothing but rude and uncooperative all evening! This is supposed to be a date. You know, two people going out, getting to know each other—hobbies, family life, dislikes and likes."
"Sorry, but if I had known what a monster you are-"
"A monster?" I ask with a snort.
"Yes," he snaps, his face reddening. "I thought I was going out with a fellow animal lover. I thought you were a vegan, or at least a vegetarian."
"What made you think that?" I question, my brow furrowing.
"You were buying a salad for dinner," he says as though its obvious. When he doesn't elaborate, I let out a small chuckle.
"Sorry to disappoint you," I say, shaking my head. "But here, I'll give you the number of my friend, Victoria. She's a vegetarian, so I'm sure it won't be too hard to convert her."
I reach into my purse and pull out my phone, a scrap of paper and a pen. I locate the number I want in my contacts list and scribble it down before sliding it across the table. James looks at it for a moment and then stuffs it in his pocket.
"Nice meeting you, Bella," he says, standing. "Too bad it couldn't work out."
"Yeah, right," I mumble when he's out of earshot.
I toss my napkin on the table and sit back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Hey, where's Romeo," Edward says when he's back at my table with my to-go box and a cannoli.
"He just wasn't the one," I say, sighing dramatically. I look down at my plate and smile. "That's a lot of chocolate."
"I make the cannolis here myself," he says proudly, hands on his hips again. "I put extra chocolate syrup and chocolate chips."
"I see that," I laugh, picking up my spoon.
"Eh, you seemed like you needed it," he says, and then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a slip of paper. "Now, I hate to say it, but your, uh, date didn't pay the bill.'
"Oh, shit," I grumble, setting my spoon down and pulling out my wallet. "How much do I owe?"
"You know what," he says after a moment of thought. "It's on the house tonight."
"What?" I ask incredibly as he tears up the bill. "Won't you get in trouble?"
"Don't worry about it," he says, shoving the pieces of ripped paper in his pocket. "I have an in with the boss."
I try not to imagine what kind of in he could have, and just smile again.
"Thanks," I tell him, holding up a spoonful of ricotta filling and chocolate. "This is amazing, by the way."
He grins and as he walks away, I swear I hear him say, "Right back at ya."
Chapter 2 will be posted tomorrow. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Drop me a line and let me know! And thanks for reading!