Deck the Halls

“For, uh, your trouble.” He shifted uncertainly. “The mail and all.”

“And all?” she echoed, arching one brow.

He gave her his most charming smile and waggled the roses in their clear plastic cone. “I said I was sorry.”

She reached out and languidly swept the flowers from his grasp, drawling, “Right. Thanks. I suppose you want your mail now.”

He nodded and fished a folded card out of his pocket, offering it to her. “I’ve already turned in one, but I thought you might want to drop that in the box yourself, so you’ll know for sure that it’s done.”

She glanced at the change-of-address card, and that brow went up again. “That’s you? Cutler Automotive?”

Nodding, he dipped into the hip pocket of his dark jeans and came up with a couple of coupons. “That reminds me. Maybe you can use these sometime.”

She tucked the change-of-address card into the roses and took these new papers into one hand, cocking her head to get a good look at them.

“Hmm,” she said, reading the top one aloud, “Fifty percent off service and repairs.” She looked him right in the eye. “This on the up-and-up?”

“Absolutely.”

“No catch? I don’t have to spend a certain amount or agree to some extra service?”

“Nope. You just present the signed coupon, we knock fifty percent off your bill.”

“No strings attached?”

“We don’t accept photocopies,” he pointed out, calling her attention to the smaller print at the bottom of the paper. “But that’s it.”

She nodded, apparently satisfied. “Okay. Great. If you wait right here, I’ll get your mail.”

“These feet are not moving,” he promised, but the instant she turned her back, he craned his neck to get another look around.

She’d done wonders with the old place. Despite the dated furniture and faded fabrics, the apartment had a homey, put-together feel about it that he quite liked, and he told her so.

“Never looked this good when I lived here.”

She laid the flowers on the counter and turned to face him. “No?”

He shook his head and shrugged. “Guess I just don’t have the knack.”

“What guy does?”

“None I know of, not many women, either, from what I can tell.”

“You pay attention to that sort of thing, do you?” she asked, seeming surprised. It had sounded a little odd, now that he thought about it.

“Lately, I do. Since the move.”

“Ah.”

She bent and extracted a small shopping bag from the cabinet.

“This is it,” she said, carrying the bag toward him. “Two more pieces came just today.”

He reached through the open doorway to accept the bag. It was stuffed with papers.

“I’m sorry about this. I usually take better care of business.”

“I just hope there aren’t any overdue bills in there,” she said dryly.

“Naw, I try not to have any of those.”

“We all try,” she quipped wryly, but he detected a troubled note.

“Not all,” he said, wanting to reassure her somehow. “You’d be surprised how many people make no attempt to pay their bills.”

“Maybe they can’t.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, “but if they try, we work with them.”

She tilted her head and her brows bounced up and down at that. “Cutler Automotive, you mean.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Huh.”

After a second or two it became apparent that she wasn’t going to say anything else, and he couldn’t for the life of him think of any way to rectify that. He shuffled his feet in place.

“Well, you have a nice evening.”

She reached for the door. “Yeah, you, too, if you can with all that to go through.” She nodded at the sack in his arms. “If any more comes, I’ll send it on your way now that I have a good address.”

“I don’t mind coming after it again,” he assured her quickly, “if you’ll just call.”

“I’ll send it,” she stated decisively.

Defeated, he nodded. “Okay. However you want to handle it.”

“That’s how I want to handle it,” she said flatly, backing up to push the door closed. “So long, Vincent Cutler.”

He put up a hand. “Wait a sec. I’d like to know your name, at least. I mean, if you don’t mind.” He shrugged. “Seems strange bringing flowers to a woman whose name I don’t even know.”

She considered a moment longer then said, “Jolie.”

“Jo Lee,” he repeated carefully.

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “Jolie. J-o-l-i-e.”

“Ah. That’s pretty. Jolie what?”