Sam and the Sixth Floor Scrooge: Magical Mistletoe Book One Read online

  Sam and the Sixth Floor Scrooge

  (Magical Mistletoe Book One)

  Abi Aledo

  Copyright © 2020 Abi Aledo

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: Art Painter

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  Sam

  Sam shuffled toward the elevator as carefully as possible loaded down with gift-wrapped packages and a bag with a couple of bottles of wine and a tin of homemade cookies. Even at 6’2 the massive pile still hampered his view. He shifted the packages in his long arms, trying to not drop everything. If only the lab accident earlier that week had resulted in a cool third arm instead of a headache from the fumes and bleeding fingers from stupidly picking up the broken glass with his bare hand.

  He twisted and maneuvered into a half squat so he could bump the elevator button with his elbow without dropping anything. The button lit up and Sam sighed with relief. He was already running late, as usual, and having to put everything down and try and restack would add precious minutes to his schedule.

  The doors opened and Sam stepped in and stumbled a little as his foot met an unexpected rise. Strong hands grabbed him and kept him and his packages from face planting. He heard the doors slide closed behind him.

  “Careful, it didn’t go all the way down.”

  Hmm, strong hands and a deep voice? Well worth Sam shifting his packages out of the way and tilting his head awkwardly to get a look at his superhero. The tall, gorgeous man in the well-fitting suit looked more like a Tony Stark than an Ironman but Sam had no complaints either way.

  In fact, he was delighted. He knew that firm jaw, that neatly trimmed goatee framing full lips, that smooth nutmeg brown skin, those dark, intense eyes. He’d been lusting after them from a distance in the eight months since the sixth-floor hottie moved in.

  “Thanks! They really need to replace this thing.” Sam hadn’t had the opportunity to do more than see him in passing. The few seconds in the elevator weren’t much but at least he’d have a reason to do more than smile at Six Floor now.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Sadly, the tone didn’t invite further conversation and Sam swallowed down his disappointment. Sure the guy was hot, but that wasn’t the major reason or not the only one at least. Sam liked to get to know his neighbors too. It was a small building, with just three apartments on each floor and Sam knew most of the other tenants. In some ways, it was like a little neighborhood, with someone always willing to lend a cup of sugar or keep a package for you until you got home from work. That was one of the things Sam loved about it.

  Now that he thought of it, Six Floor hadn’t come to the building Christmas party either. Too bad, it seemed he wasn’t friendly. Or maybe it was Sam’s ugly Christmas sweater that put him off. Sam grinned behind his boxes. Sure, he’d blame it on that. Maybe next time he saw Six Floor he’d be dressed in his much sexier work outfit, which usually consisted of a tee shirt with some smart ass saying, jeans, and the high tops he’d had since college. Sam snorted to himself. Yep, that was sure to catch the eye of a man who looked like he stepped straight from the cover of GQ, and smelled like it too. Sam’s nose twitched as the smell of spice and citrus drifted his way.

  He inched his way around in a circle so he wouldn’t have to back out of the elevator when it stopped. Maybe then, he’d look at least somewhat dignified, like the kind of neighbor you’d want to be friends with and not like a maniac dressed in a sweater that lit up and red reindeer's antlers with tiny bells dangling from the ends.

  Sam glanced over at Six Floor briefly. He was standing rigidly, staring straight ahead at the elevator door, maintaining that “proper elevator etiquette” that Sam could never manage. The elevator moved smoothly for a moment and then lurched to a sudden stop, the lights flickering on and off.

  “Oh shit! Are you kidding me right now?” Sam grabbed onto the safety bar as his packages flew out of his hands and hit the floor with varying thuds that had him wincing, hoping nothing was broken. At least the wine was in the bag draped safely over his arm.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Six Floor was braced against the elevator wall with one hand, but other than that he looked calm and unruffled by the sudden jolt or the stalled elevator.

  Sam took stock of himself. “Yeah, I'm fine. I can't say the same for my packages.” He shook his head and knelt down, stacking everything up. Good thing they were mostly dollar store gifts. He and his friends had started the practice in college when money was tight for a lot of them. Even though Sam had never had that problem, he was happy to participate. Those cheap gifts, where creativity mattered more than cost, meant more to him than all the expensive things his parents had thrown his way with little thought. If anything, his friends would be more upset about the cookies being crumbled. Sam’s cookies were amazing, no bragging.

  Six Floor moved to the front of the elevator and pushed the emergency button. There was a ringing and then a muffled voice came through, asking if they were stuck. Sam left it to the other man to answer the questions as he glanced at his watch. He hoped they could get them out soon, but it was nine o’clock on Christmas Eve. Who knew how long it would take for someone to get to them?

  Six Floor ended the call with a frown on his face and his arms crossed. Sam hoped he wasn't one of those ridiculously impatient people who threw tantrums when things didn't go their way. Sam tried another friendly smile. Hopefully, without boxes in the way, this one would be more effective. Of course, without boxes in the way, Sam’s sweater and antlers were just that much more visible and Six Floor did not seem overcome with the spirit of Christmas. “Did they give you an idea of how soon it would be?”

  Six Floor shrugged. “No clue I could barely understand what they were saying. They seemed to get the information correct though.” He pulled out his phone, long fingers flicking over the screen for a moment before pulling it up to his ear. He gave their location and information then hung up.

  “I called building management too. That was the answering service and they're going to try to get in touch with somebody, fingers crossed we’re out of here soon.”

  At this point, Sam would still be hopefully pushing buttons, trying to will the elevator to start again, while Six Floor just took charge with purpose. Sam imagined he was like that in every aspect of his life. He felt a low roil of heat in his stomach at the thought of Six Floor taking charge of him in the bedroom; those firm hands that kept him from falling, controlling Sam, guiding him exactly where the other man wanted. He shook his head. Okay, Sam, not the place or the time. He pinned a smile on his face that he hoped looked friendly and not lascivious.

  “I'm Sam St. Nicholas, by the way. No relation to the jolly one in red.”

  Six Floor glanced at him again. “I'm Evan Sims.”

  “Nice to meet you, Evan. Sixth floor right?” Sam said casually as if he wasn’t sure, hoping he didn’t sound like he had been stalking the man or anything. It wasn’t stalking if you just kept an eye out, kind of hoping you'd run into him.

  Evan nodded instead of pulling out the mace, so Sam guessed he was go
od. “Yeah, you're on the fourth right?”

  Sam’s grin widened as he nodded. Okay, so all was not lost. Six Fl --- Evan had actually noticed him enough to know what floor he was on. That meant something, right?

  Evan

  Evan glanced over at the man standing next to him — Sam, his name was Sam. He found his hand slipping into his coat pocket, fingers running over the plain white envelope with his name on it he’d found taped to his door as he was leaving for work yesterday. He’d opened it to find a single sprig of mistletoe. He figured it was some festive thing the building was doing and planned to throw it away in the nearest garbage can. Instead, he’d stuck it in his coat pocket and forgotten about it. He thought about it now though, looking at Sam.

  He’d noticed him right away the first day he’d moved in. Sam had been going out the door as Evan was coming in and he’d held it open with a friendly smile. It would be hard not to remember him, with that head of shining ginger curls, topping a tall, slender frame. Evan had found himself looking though, when he was in the lobby or the building gym, hoping to see Sam, which wasn’t his style. He hadn’t had time for romance or even a hook up in a long time. His fingers ran over the envelope again. He hadn’t kissed anyone in too long to remember. He definitely wouldn’t mind kissing Sam though. Maybe doing more than kissing.

  Even though he looked like someone threw up the Christmas spirit all over him, he was just as attractive as Evan had thought from that quick encounter and the times he’d seen him at a distance. He had wide, sweet, honey brown eyes and a broad, lovely smile, and even his outfit couldn’t hide how fit he was. Now that he got a good look at him, Evan could tell Sam was older than Evan had thought too, which was a relief. At least he wasn’t lusting after a kid.

  Suddenly Sam broke the silence again, not to speak to Evan, but to break into “Jingle Bells”. His head bobbed lightly to the tune, the bells on his antlers providing sound effects and he didn’t even seem to be conscious that he was doing it. Evan winced. No, nope, not happening. They might be stuck in here for who knew how long? He couldn’t take this, no matter how attractive Sam was.

  “Stop, please for the love of God!” He tried to say it lightly. He’d been surrounded by Christmas music since the building started piping it into the lobby and the gym at the beginning of November. If he’d known they took Christmas so seriously, he might have had second thoughts about moving in. But he’d learned to tune it out, relegate it to background noise. That was much harder coming from the surprisingly nice baritone of the man standing next to him.

  “Sorry. They just kind of get stuck in my head.” Sam shrugged sheepishly. “‘Tis the season.”

  Yeah sure, Evan thought. ‘Tis the season for selfishness, greed, and conspicuous consumption. The season when the difference between the haves and the have nots was particularly sharp. He didn't say any of that out loud though, who knew how long they were going to be stuck in this elevator, no need to upset Sam. Besides, he didn’t think a grown man who wore reindeer's antlers was going to have the same attitude about Christmas that Evan did.

  Sam glanced at the square, oversized watch on his wrist and then sighed. He slipped off his coat and sat down on the floor of the elevator, next to his packages, back against the wall. He pulled out his phone, fingers moving swiftly over the screen. His phone buzzed with a text notification and he typed something else before putting it to the side on his coat. Sam grinned ruefully up at Evan. “I think I might miss my Christmas party.”

  Well, at least that explained his outfit. Evan had heard about the “ugly sweater” parties. “Too bad.” He hoped that sounded sincere. Even if Evan thought it was all crap, Sam seemed like a nice guy and he should get to have his fun — as long as it didn’t involve singing Christmas carols.

  He shrugged, his smile still in place. “Could be worse. It could have happened in the morning on the way to work.”

  Evan sighed. “I was on the way to work.”

  “Oh, office Christmas party?”

  It wasn't that, thank God. As the boss, Evan wasn't required to put himself through that. He paid for the food and the decorations and lots of liquor and token gifts and briefly stuck his head in the door to wish his staff a Merry Christmas and then he could bow out. As long as he paid them generously and didn't make them work on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, it was none of their business if he didn't want to celebrate.

  “No,” Evan said shortly, “no party.” He knew he sounded like an ass but he already got lectured enough about working on Christmas from his mother and sister.

  Sam winced. “Your boss must be a real Scrooge.”

  “I am the boss,” Evan said.

  “Wow, I just keep putting my foot in my mouth, don’t I? I didn't mean ... I know not everybody gets to have the holidays off.” He flushed, cheeks pinkening in a way that just made him look cuter, and looked down at his hands.

  There was more awkward silence for a moment. Evan felt like the Scrooge that Sam had implied, sucking the joy out of the room — well elevator. He was just about to say something when Sam looked over at him again. “So, how about this weather? Cold enough for you?”

  Evan snorted, surprised, and felt a laugh bubble out of him. Sam joined in and the tension in the tiny space dissipated.

  Sam

  Sam figured he should probably just shut up before he said something else hideously inappropriate but, well, Sam wasn’t exactly known for knowing when to quit. If he and Evan were going to get to know each other, and they were, Sam was determined. Evan was not only hot but under that grumpy demeanor was a nice guy. The other man might as well learn his flaws now. “So where do you work?”

  Sam heard Evan sigh, but he answered anyway. “I work at Smith-Jones, Davis, Thompson, Whitaker, and Sims.”

  That was quite a mouthful. It sounded like the stiff, upper crust, old as the founding fathers, law firms his parents used. “And you’re the Sims, right?”

  Evan nodded, slipping his hands into his coat pocket and leaning back against the rail. “I made Junior partner this year.”

  Sam could hear the pride in his voice. He had no doubt earned it. A young, African American man as a partner in one of those Big Law fossil firms was a rare thing. “Congratulations! You’re pretty young for that, so clearly you’re a hard worker. Even so, do you really have to work on Christmas Eve?”

  Evan shrugged “I don't have to, I want to.”

  Sam looked at him wide-eyed. “Why? I mean it's Christmas Eve.” Then he bit his lip. Way to go, Sam. “Oh shit, I’m being insensitive again. I forget everyone doesn’t have a family. I don’t believe you don't have friends at least though.”

  Evan shook his head. “There’s not some big sob story there. I have a perfectly good family. A Mom and little sister and nieces and nephews.”

  “Oh. Then why?... None of your business, Sam.” Sam was just confused now. Sure he knew why he didn't want to spend Christmas with his family, but Evan didn't seem to have that kind of bitterness in his voice when he mentioned his own family. There was clearly fondness there.

  Evan sighed again. “I just don't like Christmas, okay.” There was a finality in his voice that said he hoped that was the end of the conversation.

  There was a story there, but again, Sam, none of your business. He reached down into his stack of packages. “Well, at least we won’t have to eat each other while we wait.” And Sam felt his face heat up again as he realized what he’d said. He was not going to go there, even though the smirk on Evan’s face sent a shiver through him. Nope, not the time, damn it! Sam dragged his brain out of the gutter again and held up the wine bottle and the large tin wrapped in gold foil. “Wine and Christmas cookies for the win.”

  Evan

  The cookies were amazing. Possibly the best Evan had ever had. The chocolate, cinnamon, and hazelnut were perfect together, and the cookies somehow managed to be the perfect combination of chewy and crisp. “Umm! These are fantastic.”

  Sam nodded, “I know. I
t’s how I suck people into my circle. You’re marked now. You can never live without my cookies, mwahahaha!”

  Evan laughed. He’d slipped off his own coat and was sitting next to Sam. “So you’re an evil genius?”

  “Mad scientist. Molecular biologist actually. Much to my parents' dismay. They wanted me to go into the family business but what can I say, I love test tubes.” He laughed.

  Sam fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out keys complete with a swiss army knife attached to the ring. He used the corkscrew attachment and opened the bottle of wine, passing it over to Evan. “I can open the other one too if you’d like, but I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.”

  Considering Evan had been fantasizing about kissing Sam, sharing a bottle with him certainly didn’t bother him. He took a quick swig of wine and passed the bottle back to Sam. Besides, there was something sexy about watching Sam fit his mouth where Evan’s had just been. They passed the cookies and the wine back and forth while they talked, voices carrying easily in the elevator.

  They discussed Sam's career, he explained to Evan exactly what he did with those test tubes and Evan talked about what it was like being an entertainment lawyer and dealing with famous and semi-famous people on a regular basis.

  “I never really wanted to be a lawyer, growing up. I wanted to be an actor as a kid. I loved playing pretend. It took me out of my real world.”

  Sam’s eyes widened. “Really? Did you try it? Go to Hollywood and wait tables while taking bit parts, looking for your big chance?” He sounded like he was reciting the script to every “make it big” movie ever.