In the Cards, page 14
A snowflake landed on the window right in front of her. For a split second its delicate beauty glistened before her and then, in the blink of an eye, it melted and dripped down the pane like a tear.
Yeah, Christmas was enough to make anyone cry, even a snowflake, she thought to herself as she turned away.
Making her way to the sound booth, she turned off the track of seasonal tunes. Good riddance. The never-ending loop of saccharine songs gave her a headache.
Peace filled Club Mystique. No music, no TV, no clinking of glasses, no shuffling of chairs. No indistinct chatter caused by dozens of voices. Gwyneth felt her tense muscles loosen, her breathing slow. For a moment she stood there, only the sound of her own heartbeat filling the cavernous room.
Quietude was a stark contrast to the noise that usually surrounded her. The calmness allowed a person to relax, to hear their own thoughts.
Her thoughts.
She tightened her lips as she looked about the room. Almost, she could see the ghostly images of the people who had occupied the club only a short time ago. Laughing and smiling, exchanging hugs or small gifts, their merriment had filled the void.
A blink erased the images and once again she saw scattered chairs, dirty dishes, discarded bits of ribbon and wrapping paper. The lack of noise was almost oppressive. She didn’t like silence.
“Looks like it’s just you and me again, Sven.” She glanced at the tattooed skull on her upper arm.
Sven grinned back at her and she gave him a pat.
“Ah, Sven, I can always count on you to be here, can’t I?”
Giving a rueful laugh, she strode across the room, shoving in chairs and grabbing a tray of empty glasses from one of the tables she passed. The clicking of her heels echoed through the room, emphasizing that she was the only living creature in the establishment. Well, there might be a mouse or two since Sherman, her cat, was too lazy to do his duty. The day she’d taken him in as a stray she’d told him he had to earn his keep. Four years later, he was still here and had yet to present her with even one rodent. As a matter of fact, he was probably sleeping in the kitchen, too fat from the scraps he mooched to even move.
Stupid cat.
She brushed against the scraggly Christmas tree one of the wait staff had insisted on erecting. The movement caused a bell to tinkle merrily. Had an angel just received its wings? Wasn’t that the story: every time a bell rang, an angel got its wings?
“You can thank me later, buddy.” She told the anonymous angel.
A few ornaments were hanging precariously and she shifted the tray of glasses so it was balanced against her hip. With her free hand, she moved the balls to safer locations, her fingers lingering on the smooth, polished surfaces. She adjusted the drooping garland as well then took a half step back to admire the effect. The decorations glistened and sparkled in an almost magical way.
The hint of a smile curled the corner of her mouth before she noticed that half the lights were burnt out. Why people went ga-ga over Christmas trees, she’d never understand.
Giving her head a shake, she set the tray of glasses on the bar. There’d be time enough to put them in the dishwasher tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
It would be a long day. The club was closed and she had no particular plans beyond straightening the place up. Perhaps she’d tackle the books. Now there was a fun way to spend the holidays.
One final scan of the room and she shut off the lights before climbing the stairs to her apartment. Flicking on the radio, she grimaced as she realized all the stations were probably playing Christmas carols. The TV stations would also be suffering from the same malady. Christmas movies and cartoons, news stories about goodwill and peace on Earth.
Yeah. Right.
Might as well go to bed.
She brushed her teeth then removed her makeup, giving her face a critical examination in the process. A few wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Oh well, at least her hair was still a natural red with no signs of grey. And her boobs weren’t sagging…much. As for her stomach, well, maybe Santa would give her a tummy tuck for Christmas.
“What do you think, Sven? Do I need to get this old body trimmed and toned?”
She flexed her arm and the skull appeared to shake its head.
“Thanks, buddy. Yeah, you’re right. For a woman my age, I look pretty good.” She grinned down at the skull, admiring the roses that grew from the top of its head. Red with thorns, of course, just like her.
Once in bed, she plumped her pillow and pulled the covers up around her shoulders. There was a distinct chill in the room and she shivered.
Hey, Santa, cancel the tummy tuck. I need a bed warmer, she decided. Preferably a male with fully functioning parts.
There was a thump and the mattress jiggled. Raising her head, she saw Sherman blinking at her.
“Hey, Santa, that’s not exactly what I meant.”
Santa didn’t respond, naturally. He only visited good girls and she was decidedly not good.
“Oh well, Sherman, you’ll have to do.” She patted the space beside her and the mammoth cat made its way to the indicated spot. It butted its head against her before lying down.
Shifting to her side, she stroked the animal’s thick fur and listened to the ticking of the bedside clock. Out the small window, she could see a neon sign flashing to advertise the existence of an all-night pharmacy. Beyond it the moon illuminated the deep velvet blue of the sky. There were no stars, just the moon looking cold and lonely.
“Merry Christmas,” Gwyneth whispered to it. Of course, it didn’t answer back.
She blinked her eyes and cleared her throat.
Stupid holiday.
Rolling over, she shut her eyes and focused on sleep.
Fin
A Message from Nicky and Jan
Hi!
Thank you for taking the time to read our story. We hope you enjoyed it. If so, please leave a review at your ebook retailer. We love hearing from our readers!
If you’d like to read our individual works, here is a listing:
Nicky Charles’ Law of the Lycans series
Bonded
Betrayed: Days of the Rogue
The Mating
The Keeping
The Finding
Betrayed: Book 2 – The Road To Redemption
For the Good of All
Forever In Time (standalone)
Jan Gordon
Black Silk
Life in the Shadows
The Goodbye
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Nicky Charles, In the Cards
