Escaping Christmas

Angie was lost in thought when she suddenly got the feeling she was being watched. She turned her head, and right there, sitting within her direct line of vision at the other side of the café, was her caramel-eyed neighbor. He was staring at her with such intensity that she felt her face fill with color, much to her annoyance.

Angie stared back for a few seconds, which stretched into a full minute. The surrounding noise faded into the background as they looked at each other across the room. There was a pull in his eyes that drew her in so far she felt like she was drowning. Her pulse picked up speed. She told herself that she needed to look away, but she couldn’t seem to break the gaze.

Just then someone waved a hand in front of Alex, and he looked away. That was when Angie noticed that he had a companion with him—a beautiful woman with large brown eyes framed by long, dark lashes and thick waves of dark brown hair spilling down past her shoulders. She was looking at Angie with amusement.

Angie averted her eyes. She was not disappointed because he had a girlfriend. She was just annoyed that even though he was involved with such a beautiful woman, he had flirted with her by the elevator. What was it with men, anyway? Was it so impossible to find a faithful one?

She took a sip from her latte and grimaced. It wasn’t so bad; it just wasn’t her thing. As she absently brought the mug back to her mouth, she casually glanced at the table where Alex had been sitting with his companion and found it empty.

“Looking for someone?”

Angie’s head snapped up, and there he was, standing beside her table, looking annoyingly sexy in a blue-and-white-striped work shirt tucked into black slacks. The sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” His eyes smiled at her and she felt her pulse speed up. “Mind if I have this seat?”

She shrugged, and he sat down elegantly in the chair opposite her.

“Where’s your friend?” Angie asked.

“My sister decided she did not like my inattention and went shopping.” His eyes sparkled with amusement.

The ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. “I would choose shopping, too.”

“She’s my baby sister and incredibly spoiled. Some inattention is good for her.”

Angie heard the affection for his sister in his voice and felt a pang of regret. She’d often wondered what it would be like to have a brother or a sister. It had always been just her and her mom. Her dad hadn’t even stuck around long enough to get to know her, and his family had refused to acknowledge her altogether. She shrugged off the feeling. She’d done well for herself, and her life had been great, until recently. She missed her mom terribly.

“What’s going on behind those beautiful eyes?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Would you like me to flirt with you?” he asked.

Angie shrugged, which just made him chuckle.

“Why aren’t you at work on a Monday morning?” she asked.

“I’d rather spend the time flirting with you.”

“Oh, please, spare me. Do those doe eyes actually work on any real human women?”

He blinked once then laughed. “You have a way with words, did you know that?”

“Thanks, but that doesn’t answer the question.”

“Hmm, you must not have been in Malaysia long if you don’t know about makan.”

“Makan?” Angie was intrigued.

Alex smiled, his eyes glittering with mischief.

“Well, literally it means food or a meal. You interfere with makan at your peril. However, I like to think of it as a philosophy.”

“How can food be a philosophy?”

“It’s more than just a question of food. Makanis when families get together during the day and friends sit down and catch up with each other. Makan also means to party or to feast. Anyway, lunch break is a serious event here.”

Angie was impressed. She was surprised to find such depth beneath his stereotypical good looks. Then again, maybe it was a fluke, or maybe he’d studied anthropology in college. Besides, she knew firsthand that depth of knowledge did not always translate to depth of feeling.

Alex watched her drift off again, lost in her thoughts. It would have been a blow to his ego to see her attention wander if he was not so fascinated by watching her. She was a beautiful woman, and she was getting more than a few looks from the male patrons of the café. But it was more than her beauty that drew him to her. The first thing he’d noticed about her was the haunted look in her eyes, like she’d been very badly hurt. Watching her, he wanted to gather her in his arms and make her sadness disappear.

He felt his mouth curve into a rueful smile at this thought. His cousin Hussein would say his Sir Galahad complex was showing.

“You’re staring,” she said.

“It’s hard not to. You went off somewhere inside your head, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

She frowned slightly and turned to look at him. “Interrupt what?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “What were you thinking about?”

She picked up her mug and absently took a sip, then made a face and placed the mug back on the table.

“I was just wondering why on earth I decided to experiment with a caramel latte of all things.”

“I can show you where to get real coffee, not this fancy stuff. There’s this place I can take you to…. What are you doing this evening?”

She hesitated, and then shook her head. “I’m busy tonight. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. Maybe another time?”

She smiled that small half smile that barely reached her eyes. “Sure.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall in front of him and realized it was time to head back to the office.

“I need to get going. It was nice meeting you again, Angie Scot.”

She smiled and murmured something appropriate before turning back to her coffee. Alex felt like he had been dismissed. As he walked out of the café into the hot sunshine, he promised himself that she was not going to find it so easy to dismiss him again.

Chapter Two

Angie stood on her balcony and gazed at the Kuala Lumpur skyline. She could see the Twin Towers from there—it was already well after dusk, so they were fully lit. As she looked out at the view, she reflected on the call she’d just had with her mother-in-law. Since she lost her son a year ago, Elizabeth had become a different person. She had gone from treating Angie like some leprous gold digger to going out of her way to connect with the woman her son had treated so shabbily. It was a relationship Angie was still wary of, so when Elizabeth had started dishing out advice on taking chances and living life more fully, she’d quickly ended the call. It had been too late to stop the words from penetrating Angie’s self-imposed fog, though, and now she couldn’t think of anything else.

She knew her mother-in-law was right, she needed to give herself a chance to find love again. But not just yet. Maybe in a decade or two, when she had full control over every aspect of her life and no man could pull the rug from under her feet the way her husband had. Tired of her own thoughts, she decided to nip outside and buy her dinner.

Standing outside her apartment door an hour later, Angie bit back a sigh as she dug into her backpack for her keys. Since the bag served as a catchall for everything from train tickets to pencil stubs, it was taking her a while to find her key ring. The backpack was precariously balanced on one knee, and she was attempting to hold on to a take-out package of rice and Indian curry with her free hand. She rested her knee against the outer grill to stop herself from falling over.