Making It Glitter E-Book

Luke Jameson

• Herausgeber: Cruz Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

“What do you want for Christmas, big boy?”

Blake Anderson will do anything to survive, even taking a seasonal gig as a Christmas elf at the local shopping mall. Embarrassing, yes, but if that’s what he must do to pay the rent, he’ll wear the skintight green hose and the silly wig. 
At first it’s almost unbearable, but then he’s reunited with his teenage crush, who’s having his own string of bad luck.
Eddie Garza is the last person you expect to don a Santa costume, but when his business is nearly destroyed, he only has two options, either start turning tricks for cash, or put on the red suit and ignore the screaming of tiny little tots. 
What makes it worthwhile is working with his friend from years ago. Eddie hasn’t ever thought of Blake romantically, but now he wants to shove the snotty kids off his lap and replace them with the cute redhead. Will Santa find true love with his glittery elf?
Making It Glitter is the fourth book in the Making It series. It features a wacky matchmaker with a gift for the occult, reunited orphans, and an exotic dancer with a heart of gold. And, of course, a happy ever after.

Leseprobe

MAKING IT GLITTER

IAN O. LEWIS

EDITED BYANN ATTWOOD

Copyright © 2021 by Ian O. Lewis

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction, and any similarities to living people, situations, and settings is coincidental.

I dedicate Making It Glitter to everyone who struggles during the holidays. It’s a tough time of year, and for what it’s worth, I love you.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Ian O. Lewis

PROLOGUE

EDDIE MEETS A PSYCHIC

“I should’ve had another drink at the bar.” I grumbled as I squeezed into a window seat on the plane. When you were six foot four, flying coach meant a guaranteed backache. “Though I guess nine in the morning is too early to get hammered.”

I glanced out the tiny window and saw the bright colors of the sign next to the runway, letting you know you were arriving or departing Guadalajara. The blues, greens, reds, and yellows were supposed to be cheerful, but in my mind, the colors were all gray. 

On my flight to Mexico, I’d lucked out and had a row of seats to myself. Considering how packed the gate had been when boarding the plane, I was certain I’d have neighbors on the flight home. A few seconds later, an older woman opened the overhead compartment above our seats and stored a small granite-colored piece of luggage. She settled into the seat on the aisle and began reading something on her tablet. Her gray hair had a blue cast to it, and while she read, she fingered a strand of pearls hanging from her neck. Hopefully, she’d be my only neighbor, and I could stretch my legs a bit because of the empty seat between us.

When I peered toward the front of the plane a few minutes later, it appeared like everyone had boarded, so I stretched my legs, accidentally hitting the woman’s feet. She turned to me, lifted her reading glasses, and scowled.

“Sorry. There’s not a lot of space for tall guys on…”

Her glasses slid back down her nose and she resumed reading. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with a talkative neighbor.

“Excuse me, sorry, running late.” A woman’s voice rang out, and I glanced up to see a tall woman in a bright yellow dress and equally vivid red hair walking down the aisle. I looked around the plane, and with dismay noticed every seat except the one between me and the older ice queen was taken.

When she got to our row, she stopped and placed her luggage in the overhead compartment. “Pardon me,” she said to the woman on the aisle. “Could you stand for a minute so I can sit?”

The older woman ignored her.

“Ma’am, I need to sit down. That’s my seat in the middle, and the plane is about to take off.” The redhead grinned, and I noticed a small gold hoop in her nose and tattoos on both of her hands. The older woman still didn’t budge, and an airline attendant with major makeup on strolled down the aisle in our direction.

“Miss, you need to take your seat.” She said, her gaze travelling up the redhead's frame while shaking her head.

“Well I would, but this woman won’t move.” 

The older lady removed her glasses, sighed loudly, then stood up. I moved my feet to make room for her, and moments later, the redhead was seated next to me. An odd smell emanated from her, like a combination of dirt and flowers. 

“Patchouli.” I said aloud without thinking and felt blood racing up my neck. The seatbelt light flashed on, and the airplane’s engine grew louder.

“Yes, but I added a little rose to the mixture so it wouldn’t smell too funky.” The woman grinned and held her hand out. “Hi, my name is Twyla.”

I hesitated a moment, then shook her hand. “Eddie, Eddie Garza. Nice to meet you.”

After takeoff, the exotic woman lowered the tray in front of her and placed a small, green velvet bag on top of it. “So, what’s your final destination?” She asked.

“Richmond, Virginia.”

“Oh, cool. Me too. Going home to visit friends and family over the holidays. I love Guadalajara, but I’m missing colder weather.” She smiled, and I noticed a slight gap between her front teeth. “Paradise can get a little boring sometimes.”

“Do you live in Mexico, or were you there for a long visit?” I asked.

“I moved there a few months ago. At first I decided never to go back to the states, but then I realized that visiting home would make living in Guadalajara better. I’d see firsthand what I’m not missing.” She reached into the bag on the tray and fished out a large deck of cards. She placed her bag in her lap, and began shuffling them. “What about you? Do you live in Virginia?”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “Though I don’t miss the cold weather. There was an ice storm a couple of days ago. My roommate was out of power for most of the day.”

“So why were you in Guadalajara?” She asked, and I noticed that the cards she was shuffling were unlike any I’d seen before.

“Actually, I was visiting Tlaquepaque.” My tongue twisted, trying to say the name. “It’s a town bordering…” 

“Oh, I love that place! They have the coolest art in the world.” She exclaimed, and the older woman on the aisle seat glared in our direction. Twyla lowered her voice and resumed speaking. “The cathedrals are to die for. Do you have family there or something?”

I sighed, wondering how to answer that question. The easiest thing to do would be to say yes and leave it at that, but that was a half-truth. I opened my mouth to speak, and when I did, her eyes locked with mine. The truth spilled out.

“My mother gave me up when I was a baby. After doing research I learned she was from Tlaq...” I didn’t know Spanish, so I abandoned the effort of saying the town’s name, “...well, from that area, and that I had relatives there.” I glanced out the window at the carpet of gray clouds underneath us.

“Didn’t go so well, did it?” She whispered, and when I looked in her direction, she placed the deck of cards on the tray and nodded toward them. Meeting distant relatives who don’t speak the same language was more frustrating than revealing. When I didn’t reply, she murmured, “Cut the cards for me, please. Oh, and think of a question you’d like answered."

I reached over and did as she asked. “What is this?” 

“Tarot cards. This would be better if I could smoke a cigar while doing it, but this will have to do.” She pulled the top card off the deck and laid it on the tray. “Cigar smoke makes the answers clearer.” She added, though it only made it sound even more bizarre.

“Oh, that’s interesting.” She pointed at the card. “It’s the card of judgement, but it came out of the deck upside down. It represents doubt, like you don’t understand the world around you and it’s making you crazy.”

“Yeah.” I grunted. That sounded like my entire life. Orphaned, and bounced from one foster home to the next. It was hard to understand your place in the world when the ground beneath you was constantly shifting.

Twyla peeled off a card and placed it next to the other one. Her right hand flew up to her mouth, and she giggled. “I’m so used to doing this with cigars that my hand went to my lips automatically. Now, this is the death card.”

“Oh shit.” I said, louder than I meant, and the old woman next to Twyla cleared her throat.

“No, it’s a good one.” She whispered. “It represents the end of a cycle, or a new beginning. Imagine you’ve spent your entire life as a caterpillar, and you’re about to emerge from a cocoon as a stunning butterfly.”

A grin spread across my cheeks. “About damned time.”

“The knight of cups.” She laid a third card on the tray. “I can interpret this in different ways. It could represent your idealism, or that you are going to follow your heart.” She said, then surprised me by laying her hand on mine. “Eddie, something tells me that things are about to change for you. Open yourself up to the possibility that good things are just around the corner.”

“Really?” I almost laughed in her face. Good things never happened to me.

“You’ve already been through hell, if what I’m sensing is correct.” She shut her eyes for a long moment, breathing slowly in and out. 

“Um, yeah.” I said, prompting her to continue. Her eyes popped open, and she scooped the three cards off the tray.

“The only way is up, handsome. Believe in yourself, and the universe will start believing in you too.”

CHAPTER1

BLAKE IS CAUGHT OFF GUARD

“Sir, did I resolve the issue for you to your satisfaction?” I asked the customer. The man, who’d cursed me out for stuff I had no control over, sighed. 

“This has been so frustrating.” The man’s deep voice filled my headset.

“Yes, sir. I’m sure it has been. Is there anything else I can help you with?” I spied my boss opening her office door from across the room, so I slid the book I’d been reading into my top desk drawer.

“No. I know it’s not your fault, and I’m sorry I became angry with you.” The man grumbled, and before I could ask him to fill out the customer survey online, he hung up. I was about to update the man’s file when a shadow fell across my desk.

“Blake, Grace is at lunch. Tell Parker I need to see him.” My boss Marcia commanded. Everyone called the boss Morticia behind her back for always wearing black and never showing emotions. Her kohl eyeliner was extra-thick today, and her blood red lipstick was bleeding into the fine lines around her mouth.

“Of course.” I replied, taking my headset off and pushing back my chair. Morticia nodded and stalked back to her office. I was glad to do what she asked. Being a customer service representative was the most boring job on the planet. Thankfully, whenever Morticia’s secretary, Grace, was on a break, she’d get me to help. I was also hoping that if Grace ever left the company that I’d get a shot at her job. Anything besides dealing with customers was preferable, even serving the undead boss.

I strolled through the cubicles until I was in front of the elevators and pushed the down button. Parker was a maintenance man, and worked in the basement where his cell phone connection was spotty, which was probably why Morticia wanted me to get him. 

When the doors opened up in the basement, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting. It was a spooky old building in Shockoe Slip, a neighborhood filled with cavernous old tobacco warehouses they’d converted into offices and condos. 

“Parker?” I called out, and a few moments later I heard footsteps approaching.

“Yeah?” The man answered in his raspy smoker voice. I smelled him before I could see him, a musky combination of cigarettes and booze. Despite his smelly habits, he was a nice old man, nearing retirement.

“Mort… um, Marcia wants to see you in her office now.”

The man sighed, and without another word, we rode the elevator back up to the fifth floor. Morticia was standing in front of her office door with her arms crossed over her chest when the doors to the elevator slid open.

“Wish me luck.” Parker mumbled, and slowly trudged toward our boss. As soon as her office door slammed shut, my neighbor in the next cubicle wheeled her chair over.

“Rumor has it Morticia is laying people off.” She whispered. Her eyes were like saucers, and I noticed her fingers twisting her wedding band nervously.

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, Betsy. She’s always liked you.” I whispered back, hoping I’d said the right thing to calm her down. It was a total lie, of course, since our boss hated everyone.

“My husband’s social security isn’t enough. If I’m laid off, I don’t know what we’re going to do.” She said, then the door to Morticia’s office flew open, and Parker stormed out. Halfway across the room, he spun around and faced her office, displaying his middle finger. But it was too late, since she’d already slammed the door shut.

“Fucking bitch.” He bit the words off, then he ran to the elevators.

“Holy shit.” I heard Betsy mutter, and a bolt of anxiety shot through me. What if she was going to fire me, too?

My phone buzzed, so I pulled it out of my pocket.

Bring home a bottle of wine

It was a text from my roommate and best friend, Sue. I was about to reply when Morticia’s door opened, and Charlie from marketing walked out, tears streaming down his cheeks. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good. This was the fourth employee this afternoon who’d apparently gotten the axe.

Part of me would love to quit. Our boss was very demanding, and on more than one occasion she'd asked me to come in and work on days off. The thing was, you couldn’t say no, because we were all disposable, or at least that was how we all felt. I’d never been able to go to college, since I didn’t have a family, or any money to fall back on. Being a CSR was the best job I could get without a degree. 

My dream was to finish the novel I’d been working on over the last year, and to become a full-time author. It was a romance novel, and I prayed it would be good enough to get me out of the rotten-job cycle. The only person I’d told about it was Sue. She was the one who’d encouraged me to write, because she was in a similar situation. Her degree was in sculpture, and obviously there weren’t many opportunities for her to make a living in her field. Even worse, she had to pay off obscene student loans, so she waited tables. It wasn’t bad money, but she had zero benefits or security.

“Blake.”

I jumped in my seat and glanced up to see Morticia staring down at me.

“Find Brenda Fowler in accounting and tell her I need to see her in my office now.” My boss huffed. “Nobody is answering their phones or emails today.” She spun around and stalked back into her office, slamming the door shut behind her.

“They aren’t picking up your calls, because they’re terrified, you heartless bitch.” I muttered, then pushed myself out of the chair and hurried to find Morticia’s next victim.

It was almost Thanksgiving, and this year Sue and I were planning a big feast for all our friends. Her parents were in Seattle, and she couldn’t afford to give up any shifts during the holidays, so she was staying put in Richmond. Since I didn't have a family of my own, our friends had become my chosen family. I knew Sue would rather have visited her parents, but selfishly, I was glad she was remaining in town.

Not that we would see much of each other. Most of my coworkers took vacation time around the holidays, so I’d probably be asked to fill in. Plus, Sue would work more shifts than usual, and tips were excellent this time of year.

My phone buzzed in my desk drawer, and after making sure Morticia’s door was still shut, I snuck a peek at it.

Horrible day- bring home two bottles of wine

My computer monitor beeped, and I saw a message from the boss. She wanted me to come to her office now.

“Fuck me.” I sighed, knowing exactly what would happen next. I grabbed my phone and typed out a reply to Sue first.

Bringing home a box

CHAPTER2

EDDIE’S BREAKING POINT

“Where do you live?” Twyla asked as we retrieved our luggage from the metal carousel. 

“I’m in the Fan District, on Floyd Avenue.”

“Oh cool. I’m staying with my folks in Northside. Do you want to share an Uber?” She grinned, and while I was usually a loner, I was grateful for her company. 

“Sure.” 

As soon as we stepped outside, I wished I had brought a heavy coat.

“Oh my God, it’s freaking cold.” Twyla muttered, and I grunted agreement. “This is one of the many reasons I moved to Mexico. I hate the cold.” She said, her teeth chattering. 

We didn’t have to wait for the car since it was circling the airport waiting for customers. An older dude wearing a vintage Clash t-shirt drove it, and the Toyota reeked of weed.

“So, Eddie, what type of work do you do?” Twyla asked once we were on the highway. The brown grass and leafless trees shone like they were covered in glass, and while I hated the cold, I had to admit the ice was beautiful.

“You’re the psychic. Shouldn’t you know that already?” I laughed, and she elbowed me in the ribs.

“Don’t be impertinent.”

“Just kidding. I’m a personal trainer, but I operate a small gym, too, over on Robinson Street. It’s a two-man operation, just me and a part-timer who runs the front desk. It’s kind of like Crossfit.” I’d opened it a year ago, and it was barely profitable.

“You look the type.” Twyla squeezed my bicep, and for a moment, I wondered if she was making a pass. I must have made a face, because Twyla cracked up laughing.

“Dude, your expression was priceless. Don’t worry, you aren’t my type. I’m into women, and if I’m guessing right, you’re into guys, right?”

I nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Who knew if psychic stuff was real or not, but this woman’s intuition was spot on, and it was a little unnerving. Thankfully, we were only a couple of minutes away from my apartment.

“Look me up on social media. I’m on Facebook and Instagram, and my full name is Twyla Willows. Maybe we can grab a drink while I’m in town.” She said, right as the car pulled up to my place.

“That would be great, and um, thanks for doing whatever it was you did with the cards.” I smiled, and though I was a little weirded out by psychic stuff, she seemed like a cool person.