C H A P T E R    S E V E N

Carols and Cocoa

❄●❄

                  THE CLOCK ON the wall beside the doorway to the dining room mocked Harry every time he brought an order back to the cooks. Only thirty minutes left, he told himself this time. Thirty minutes before he could go spend his tips at Gibson's and keep a watchful eye out for that little man with the blue eyes and cheekbones.

                  God, what Harry wouldn't give to know Cheekbones' actual name. It was probably something otherworldly or poetic, perhaps even royal. He looked like he could be a prince...or a cat. It could go either way.

                  A tall ginger called Ella – Harry's favorite coworker – spun into the kitchen with an armful of dirty dishes then. She blew a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail away from her face and glanced at Harry. "Table five is gone."

                  Nodding, he glanced at the clock once more before heading back out to continue doing his job. Twenty-eight minutes.

                  Table five was a generous older couple who had adored Harry. He returned the sentiment easily, especially because they appreciated his inability to stop humming holiday tunes whenever he wasn't speaking. And he liked them even more now that they hadn't left an enormous mess for him to clean; he picked up their napkins and piled them on top of their emptied plates, stuck their tip into the pocket of his belt apron, and brought everything to the sinks in the kitchen. He returned to the table with a rag and two new table settings, and then he was finished.

                  The other table he was currently waiting on needed refills on their drinks, so he did that quickly. And once he was back in the kitchen with nothing to do for the moment, Ella appeared again, this time with nothing in her arms and no hair in her face. She crossed her arms across her chest and leaned against the counter beside Harry, huffing a tired sigh. They'd both pulled a double shift that day – Harry because he needed the money, and Ella because another coworker hadn't showed.

                  "I hate this job," she stated, watching the cook prepare the food for Harry's table.

                  Harry shrugged. "It's not that bad."

                  "You don't think anything is that bad."

                  "That's not true. Sometimes I burn myself on the shower water here," he argued. "It's always a lot hotter than I expect it to be. So, I think that's pretty bad."

                  Ella began laughing, and though Harry wasn't sure what was so funny, he was glad he'd managed to get this kind of reaction from her. He smiled while she continued giggling. When she was finally finished she sighed again, but this one was happier than the last. "Alright, you win. Hey, I have a question."

                  One of Harry's table's meals were finished. The other two looked like they were just about there. "Sure. What's up?"

                  "So, we have a really lame tradition here every year where the employees put on a little Christmas concert on Christmas Eve. Only half the employees ever do it because, like I said, it's kind of lame – "

                  "It's not lame," Harry said.

                  Ella blinked at him for a moment before continuing. "And, uh. Anyway, sometimes we even do caroling to the hotel rooms if enough of us are up for it, and I think one time we had enough people that we went caroling other places too. So," she smiled, "think you'd be up for it?"

                  For the first time since getting here, Harry was genuinely grinning so widely it almost hurt his face due to something other than a pair of seafoam blue eyes. "Seriously? Of course I'm up for it! I... Yes. Definitely. I'd love to."

                 Ella's lips pressed into a thin line as she took in Harry's excitement. She was clearly taken aback by his enthusiasm, but finally she nodded. "Great. Good. I'm still asking around, so I don't know how many other people we've got, but I'll let you know."

                  "Are we going to practice at all? I've got some ideas for songs we could do too, like I know there are the common ones but – "

                  "Slow down, shooter," Ella chuckled. "I really won't know anything else until I figure out how many other people will be joining us."

                  "Mind if I ask around myself?" Harry asked, not swayed.

                  "Feel free. You're probably more convincing than I am."

                  His face-splitting smile stretched even wider, but then their moment was over because the last two plates for his table were finished. He left Ella hesitantly, almost worried that his presence was the only thing keeping these plans afloat and as soon as he left she'd change her mind and cancel it all. Which was ridiculous, of course, but what a stroke of luck! He hoped it'd work out.

                  He brought all three plates out to his table, already humming Christmas (Baby Please Come Home). By memory, he set the plates in front of their corresponding stomachs and mouths, a friendly smile on his face. "Okay, can I get you anything else?"

                  "Could I get a side of mayonnaise, please?" the young teenage girl spoke up.

                  "Of course."

                   In the kitchen, the next shift was just arriving. Harry filled a little to-go container of the girl's desired condiment, and then he ushered Jaime, an employee almost as new as Harry was, to follow him. When they delivered the mayonnaise, Harry introduced the table to their new waiter, wished them a great day, and then received a tip he hadn't expected from who he assumed was the girl's father.

                  "Thank you kindly, young man," the guy stated.

                  Harry beamed. "Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure."

                  Still smiling, he returned to the kitchen and slipped into the employee room. He removed his belt and pocketed his tips, pleased with the way he continues to get more as the days go by. He always considered himself a people person, but it was nice to have proof once in a while.

                  Ella was already in there, along with a couple other second shift employees, pulling her coat on and clocking out. "Don't forget to let me know by the end of the week if any of you are interested in the Christmas concert and caroling," she was announcing.

                  Harry looked around. He wanted to gauge everyone's reactions, but it sort of seemed like no one was paying attention. By the time he was ready to go, everyone but Ella had vacated the room.

                  "See what I mean? Few people are as enthusiastic as you about the idea of singing Christmas songs for a bunch of strangers," she said. "It's been like this for a couple years now. Before I got here, I guess everyone used to be really into it. Wonder what happened."

                  Absentmindedly, Harry began chewing on his bottom lip. What could have happened? And what could he do to change everyone's attitudes? "Your best bet right now is probably focusing on the new guys. Like me. See how quickly I was into it?" he joked.

                  "I feel like you're going to be an exception," she rolled her eyes. "But you're probably right. I'll tackle Jaime, Elisa, Marco, and Tess. You want to convince everyone else?"

                  "Hell yes," he blurted, then blushed. He didn't normally curse, but everyone here did it so often that sometimes it slipped. Thankfully Ella didn't notice. "Spreading holiday cheer is my specialty."

                  The two of them left the hotel side by side. As soon as they were exposed to the mild October air, Ella shivered and Harry adjusted his jacket, afraid he was going to start sweating. After they started down the sidewalk, Ella said, "That doesn't even surprise me, that the holidays are your specialty. It's fitting. You've got the personality and presence of one of Santa's elves." Harry buckled over with laughter while she continued. "That one older couple at five – before they left – told me you sang them Christmas songs? I felt the need to apologize on your behalf; it's only October, for Christ's sake, Harry."

                  He was still giggling as he struggled to respond. "They were enjoying it!"

                 "You forced your holiday cheer upon them!"

                  "No!" Harry shook his head. Oxygen was suddenly sparse, and he was unable to stop laughing. "They told me they liked it! Said it made them feel like it was already Christmas. Everyone loves Christmas, Ella."

                  She shook her head slowly. "Regardless, you're unbelievable."

                  "Unbelievably correct."

❄●❄

                  CHEEKBONES WASN'T AT Gibson's when Harry got there. Molly was working again, but she didn't recognize him until he asked for a peppermint hot cocoa again. He didn't blame her; it's been a few days since she worked the afternoon shift last.

                  "Oh, you again," she smiled. "Do I sense we're about to gain another regular?"

                  Harry shrugged a shoulder casually, a loaded half-smile on his face that he hoped she didn't understand. "You must have sharp senses."

                  "I usually do."

                  He paid for his drink and a muffin this time (blueberry cinnamon upon recommendation) now that he could afford even half-priced refills. When he had his refreshments, he dropped back into the booth by the door, pulling a pen out of his pocket and a handful of napkins from the dispenser.

                  While he waited for Cheekbones to arrive, he wrote. He still had the first poem he wrote about the stranger tucked away in his wallet, and he's been carrying it around everywhere. He pulled it out now to read over, and it took him back instantly to the other day when he saw Cheekbones for the first time. The words poured out of him like it did then, and he hardly noticed how much time was slipping by.

                  On his third cup of hot cocoa he realized that the stranger should have been here by now. It was past six in the evening, almost two hours later than Harry was usually graced with the man's presence. Had he missed him? Had Harry been so encompassed by his own mind that Cheekbones had come and go already without Harry even noticing? No. Of course not. Harry wouldn't have missed him.

                  He calmed down his hyperactive brain and decided to pay more attention the people coming and going. There was a much steadier flow of customers at Gibson's tonight than usual, so if Harry had missed him, he couldn't be at fault really. Bodies were constantly moving about.

                  Just in case, he peeked over at the black sofa in the corner. His heart leaped into his throat for a moment when he saw that it was occupied, but much to his dismay, it wasn't by his favorite human.

                  Well, the day had been going pretty smoothly so far. Is it really surprising that Harry's good luck had to end at some point? Cheekbones probably didn't spend every afternoon at Gibson's. Maybe Wednesdays he spent at home or something.

                  Harry figured he could probably head back to the hotel, but he couldn't bring himself to leave yet. Instead, he started writing again, much less inspired than he was before, but every feeling could be put into words. Whenever someone new entered the diner, his eyes would flicker up at them hopefully, but he was let down every single time until a young girl with long blonde hair burst through the door in a hurry.

                  Had she come in wearing anything other than what she was in right now, she wouldn't have caught his eye. But he recognized the maroon jumper beneath her black bomber, because Cheekbones wore it just yesterday.

                  Almost unintentionally, Harry sat up straighter in his seat; his eyes followed the girl as she got Molly's attention. She said something in a low, rushed voice, holding her hand up a few inches above her own like she was explaining somebody's height. The stranger's height. Harry was certain that was Cheekbones' approximate height. And though he couldn't make out a single word the girl was saying, he recognized her accent. It was the same as...her boyfriend's? Her brother's? Harry didn't know how they knew each other, but he knew that they had to.

                  Molly was nodding, recognition flashing on her face before she shook her head and shrugged. The blonde looked upset and irritated, pulling her phone out and putting it up to her ear. She thanked Molly before spinning on her heal and leaving as quickly as she'd come.

                  Harry was concerned. Was his stranger missing? Had something happened? Knowing now that sitting here and waiting for Cheekbones to arrive was completely pointless, Harry piled up all of his napkins and tucked them into the back pocket of his jeans. He finished his hot cocoa and brought his mug back up to the counter.

                  "Everything alright?" he couldn't help asking as he slid it over to Molly.

                  "Huh?"

                  "With that girl. She okay?" Was he allowed to ask these things? Was it weird? He hoped not.

                  "Oh. Yeah, I don't know. She was asking if I'd seen her brother. He's a regular here usually, but he didn't come in tonight." She shrugged, pursing her lips. After a second, she added, "I hope he's okay."

                  With an absentminded nod, Harry reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tip to stick into the little jar beside the register. "Me too."

                  "Thanks, Harry," she smiled. "See you tomorrow?"

                  "Probably. Might do some baking tonight. I'll bring you a plate of my famous peppermint sugar cookies."

                  Harry's mind was elsewhere, worrying about Cheekbones and worrying about that blonde girl, the stranger's sister, but he didn't want Molly to concern herself about it in case all was actually well. He figured he'd lighten her up a bit before he left her.

                  "You and peppermint," she shook her head, eyes bright. "You sure seem to have a thing for it."

                  "I do," he admitted. "It tastes like Christmas."

                  Molly laughed at this. "I suppose it does. I do love Christmas."

                  "Doesn't everyone?" Harry joked.

                  "I wish. It'd make my life a lot easier when it comes to making the shop playlists for November and December."

                  He wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that, but instead of asking, he tapped his hand against the counter and gave her one last parting smile. "I'll see you tomorrow with those cookies."

                  "Looking forward to it. Have a good night."

                  He turned to go, glancing back at her over his shoulder with a wave. "You as well."

❄●❄

                  THREE HOURS LATER when Harry was finished with his first batch of cookies, he decided to change into a pair of sweatpants. He could only wear those skin-tight black jeans for so long before he was uncomfortable in too many important places.

                  When he finally got them off, the remainder of his tips fell out of his back pocket. Halfway through picking up the little mess, it dawned on him.

                  Where were the poem-covered napkins?