For a simple guy, he sure lived well. His apartment was gorgeous, with dark wood floors, a decent-sized kitchen with kick-ass appliances and modern furniture in the living room, plus a great view of the city. He had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and, for a single guy—or even a couple with no kids—it was perfect.
Not that Stella was thinking of Trick being part of a couple, or of her being part of a couple with him. But if in her wildest fantasies she entertained the idea, she could definitely live here. It was close to the subway and she could be at the Theater District in no time at all.
Not that the thought had occurred to her or anything.
Okay, maybe the thought occurred to her. She took another couple sips of coffee and wandered over to the windows. Fresh snow coated the rooftops and down below, making everything look clean and giving the city a bright shine. From inside the warmth of Trick’s apartment, it felt like Christmas. She turned around and slid into one of Trick’s comfortable chairs.
The problem was, indoors it wasn’t the holidays at all. He had no decorations. Nothing. Not even a wreath on the door, or a candle on any of the tables.
He at least needed a Christmas tree. Maybe one set off in the corner between the living room and entry area. There was plenty of space for one. Not a super huge tree, but a moderate-sized one would definitely fit there.
She was projecting and she knew it, but she had no room in her apartment for a real tree, so she had a tiny one-foot fake tree on her kitchen pass-through. It was the best she could do to bring the holiday into her place.
But here? Trick could do so much decorating, which had always been one of her favorite things about the holiday. She remembered all the Christmases she and Greta had shared with their parents.
She paused, drank her coffee, and thought about her mom and dad. Dad was always so busy with work that he never took the time to come out here to visit, had never once seen her dance. Work was always more important. Her mom had flown out a couple of times.
It wasn’t the same.
“You look deep in thought.”
She lifted her gaze to see Trick coming in, wearing a pair of low-slung workout pants and no shirt, his feet bare. His hair was sleep mussed and he looked absolutely gorgeous.
Yeah, she could get used to seeing him dressed like that every morning.
“I put a cup out for you.”
“Thanks.” He brewed a cup of coffee and came over to sit next to her. “So what were you thinking about?”
“My parents.”
“Yeah? What about them?”
She shouldn’t get into it with him, was surprised she’d even brought it up. “Oh, nothing.”
He laid his cup down and grasped her hand. “Tell me.”
She took a deep breath.
“I miss my parents. It’s the holidays, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Where do they live?”
“Portland, Oregon.”
“So why don’t you fly back and see them over the holiday break? You get a rehearsal break, right?”
She nodded. “It’s a really busy time of year, both for flying and for me. Such a hassle. Besides, Greta’s going to come up here and look for a place.”
“Okay. So have your parents come out here and spend Christmas with you.”
She laughed. “My dad wouldn’t take the time. He barely takes Christmas Day off work.”
“He’s come out for your performances before, hasn’t he?”
“No.”
He gave her an incredulous look. “Never?”
“Never. He owns a transportation company. He’s always at work, always has been at work. I imagine he always will be at work until he dies. That’s just what he does. Work is his life.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I’m used to it. He made his choices and we all live with it. My mom has seen me dance, when he allows her to get away. She works for his company, too, so it’s hard for her to get the time off.”
He looked offended. She liked that.
“Well, that sucks.”
“Tell me about it.” Tired of thinking about her parents, she shook off the melancholy and smiled at him. “Tell me about your family.”
“My dad died five years ago. It’s just my mom now, and she lives in Milwaukee.”
She laid her hand over his. “I’m sorry, Trick.”
“Me, too. He was a great guy. Loved hockey and always encouraged me. He put me on skates as soon as I was old enough to balance myself and I took to the ice like I’d been born there. He and I used to skate together, play hockey together, and he never missed one of my games. He either watched me on TV or he’d come to whatever games he could. I wouldn’t be where I am today without him. I miss him a lot.”