Trick-or-Treat Cute - Chapter 1

"Excuse me?” Chloe whisper-hissed into her phone, hunching her shoulders and turning her back to her cubicle opening. If she was going to get dumped while she was on the clock, she might as well do it now and not have Mary-Pat, the unofficially official library busybody, know about it.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” Rafe did not sound sorry. “But it’s just not working, you know?”

Yeah. Honestly? She did know. But on top of it being a blow to her pride—he couldn’t even summon up an insincere It’s not you; it’s me here?—it also left her dateless tonight. For Halloween. Her favorite night of the entire year.

But what did she expect from a guy who insisted his name was Rafe, only for her to find out as he pulled out a credit card on a date that his name was actually Ralph? And that would have been fine if, after she asked him about it, he had been easygoing. Maybe one of his parents was British and it was a pronunciation thing! Maybe he just liked it better! Nope. He’d been defensive and a bit of a jerk. So, if she’d been honest with herself, she should have told Ralph to take a hike after two weeks instead of getting handed her walking papers a month and a half in.

So yeah, she wasn’t heartbroken. Just ticked off.

And now she heard Mary-Pat’s heavy tread coming down the row of cubicles. “Okay, Ralph,” she said brightly. “You just get that copy of The Vagina Bible straight back to us and we’ll take care of that late fee. Bye!”

She tapped her screen to end the call just as his confused and angry voice started to argue with her, then she picked up and dropped her cubicle phone’s receiver as if she’d taken a patron call on her work phone instead of a personal call on her cell. She swiveled in her chair, giving Mary-Pat a smiling finger wave as if she was all sweetness and light and not a seething ball of furious rage. The older woman gave her a sour look—nothing new there—and continued on, presumably to fetch her broomstick and fly off on it.

“The Vagina Bible, huh?” floated over the cubicle wall from Simon, her work bestie and cubicle neighbor.

“Yeah. He could’ve used it,” Chloe grumbled. Ralph was no Jack, that was for sure.

Oh, shut that down right this instant. There was no reason to be thinking about Jack Griffiths after five years of no contact when he took his admittedly fine self off to his freaking dream job in Chicago. Right before Halloween, too—so everything was getting a little too repetitive around here.

He could just choke on a bite of deep-dish pizza.

But the man had known his way around her bedroom at least. And her body.

Ugh. She let her torso collapse onto her desk, knocking over two Funko Pop figurines. She could hear Simon behind her.

“So, no more ‘call me Rafe,’ then?” he asked. “Also, RIP Elvira and Pennywise.”

“They’re vinyl. They’re practically indestructible,” she mumbled, her head on her forearms. “Unlike me.”

“Oh, come on. You were totally not into him,” Simon said.

“No, but at least I had a date for the Sexy and Scary party at the Pirate Lounge tonight. It’s even really on Halloween for once!” Her favorite event finally back again on her favorite night. Ruined.

“A date you didn’t really like,” Simon observed in that relentlessly practical way he had.

“Oh, shut up and let me wallow.”

“You have ten minutes of wallowing and then we have online recommendations,” he said.

Shit. He was right. Their weekly social media readers’ advisory sessions were usually something she looked forward to, and she’d nearly forgotten about it.

She sat up, straightened her Funkos and dragged her chair over to his cubicle. She was not going to let Ralph get to her anymore.

***

“So that’s it, champ,” the moving foreman said to Jack, handing him a clipboard for his signature.

The packing on the Chicago side of his move had seemed to move in slow-motion, but this end? Lightning. He watched while small, stocky dudes with shoulders like boulders laid out a strap strategically on the floor of the moving truck, stacked a pile of boxes taller than they were on top, then shouldered the straps with bent knees, straightened and power walked their way down the ramp and into his new town house. The pieces of his bed frame were carted in and assembled with incredible swiftness. They even unpacked his kitchen stuff, though it would probably take him weeks to figure out where everything was.

That was okay, though, because they took all the boxes and packing paper from that room with them. The sea of cardboard that still surrounded him was daunting enough.

Jack scribbled his name, tucked a cash tip under the clip and handed the whole thing back to the guy. “Pleasure doing business with ya,” the man said, and trotted out to the waiting truck.

Well. First things first. Jack wandered upstairs on weary legs—he might not have been doing the strap-carry Cirque du Soleil maneuver, but he’d certainly been up and down the stairs often enough today. Checking on stuff, directing where large furniture should be placed or assembled, he felt like he’d summited Kilimanjaro.

But at least he’d spend tonight in his actual bed. No more sleeping on the floor of his bedroom in an old sleeping bag on his mother’s leaky old air mattress that left his ass on the hardwood by morning. Now he needed to locate some sheets and his pillows and comforter so he could finally have a good night’s sleep.

His phone buzzed in his back pocket and he dug it out, putting it immediately on speaker. “Hey Mom.”

“You all moved in? You know I would have come over to help.”

“Yeah, I know.” And she would have been half-amusingly and half-irritatingly bossy about where everything should go, while probably taking the opportunity every fifteen minutes to tell him how glad she was that he was home, how much everybody had missed him…

He couldn’t handle that. Especially since the person he wished would miss him the most had kicked him to the curb five years ago, before he could even ask her to move with him to Chicago.

He set his phone on his dresser and ripped the tape off of a box. “That’s okay. It’s kind of a narrow town house and there were a lot of people on the moving team.”

“Which means you didn’t want your mother underfoot.” He cringed at the accuracy, tossing a shower curtain on the floor to discover a set of sheets. Score.

“How are you doing today? Did you have to work?” he asked. His mother worked part-time as a librarian in a small branch library in the county, having cut back from full time when her arthritis became too much.

“No, and speaking of work, have you called Chloe?” He’d met his ex-girlfriend at a library holiday party when she worked with his mom. Through his mother, he knew she was now based at the main branch.

“She broke up with me, Mom.”

“I know, but that was because you were leaving. Now you’re back.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple. Also, she’s probably seeing someone else by now.” Sassy, irreverent, gorgeous Chloe stay on the market for long?

Impossible.

***

As they wrapped up their recommendations, Simon asked Chloe, “So, what are you going to do for Halloween now?”

She huffed out a frustrated sigh. “I have a ticket for the Sexy and Scary party, but I don’t even know if I want to go at this point.”

“Why not?” They got up and Chloe dragged her chair back to her cubicle. She and Simon always ate a late lunch together after their virtual readers’ advisory sessions.

“I don’t have time to put together a new costume,” she said as they moved toward the employee lounge.

“Why can’t you wear what you had planned?”

“Because it’s half of a couple’s costume. I’d look foolish. And I don’t have time to make up a new costume.” Disappointment soured her stomach and she opened the lunch room door, letting them both in. It was a fucking epic costume. Her best yet.

“Didn’t you tell me you were going as Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas?”

“Yeah. And who’s Sally without Jack?” Jack. Why did her brain go to her ex instead of the skeleton king of Halloween Town? Just because they both loved Halloween that much? Cut it out, brain.

“Sally’s still Sally without Jack,” Simon said, frustratingly practical as always. “Anyway, doesn’t she spend most of the movie on her own, pining after him?”

She paused, her hand on the door handle of the library’s refrigerator. “Okay, fine. I can be Sally without a Jack. But I was looking forward to it being a real date.”

“Maybe you’ll find someone once you’re there. After all, an event like that is probably chockablock with people who are as crazy about Halloween as you are.”

She sighed as she pulled her lunch bag from the fridge. “Yes, but almost all the people who go to these things go with dates. So being there on your own isn’t as fun.”

“Just give it a try,” her friend cajoled as they sat down and opened their lunches. “Aren’t you always pushing me to get out there and do things?”

Unwrapping her sandwich she gave him a pointed look. “Yeah. And you hardly ever do, so it’s not like you have even an ounce of credibility with this speech.”

“I might not, but using your own words back at you should.”

“Shut up.” She tore off a piece of crust from her sandwich and threw it at him.

“I have a point and you know it.” He plucked the bread off of his sweater and dropped it onto his sandwich wrapper. “You’re never going to find anyone if you stay home.”

“Neither are you.”

“But, the thing is, I don’t want to find anyone. So it’s fine if I stay home and hand out treats to the kids in costumes who roam around my building like feral hooligans.”

Chloe had a strong suspicion that her friend wasn’t as happy with his solitary life as he claimed, but challenging him directly would only make him clam up.

“Fine. I’ll go. If I’m having a bad time, I can always leave.”

“Maybe you’ll even find a new Jack.”

She knew what he meant: a new Jack Skellington. But if she was brutally honest with herself, she’d never been able to move on from the old Jack. Her Jack. And she hated that.

***

Just as Jack was stuffing the last pillowcase full of pillow and seriously contemplating either a very late nap or an embarrassingly early bedtime, his phone rang from its perch on the dresser. Sighing, he walked over and snagged it to see who was calling.

Drew.

Well, shit and hallelujah. He swiped to answer. “Yeah, man? How’re you doing?”

“Better since I know you’re back. Move-in all done?” His oldest friend would waste no time calling. In fact, Drew had also offered to help, but Jack had assured him the movers would handle everything. A former defensive lineman on their high school football team, Drew was still built like a tank, and Jack was sure that Drew would be even more in the way than his mother.

He cast his eyes over the sea of cardboard and the oasis that was his newly made-up bed. “Depends on what you mean by all done,” he said.

“Got beer in the fridge?” his old friend asked.

He chuckled. “Yeah. And there’s a county store for more within walking distance.” Jack ended up deciding to move into a newly built planned community formulated like some sort of miniature village—town houses arranged around a small plaza with restaurants and shopping, with little parks and playgrounds dotted around the neighborhood at strategic intervals. Perfect for families as well as single people, the Realtor had said with a significant expression. As if he looked like an incipient family man.

Or maybe it was just the memory of Chloe showing on his face.

“Can I come see the new digs?” Drew asked, his voice just as puppy-dog eager as it had been when they were teens. He had the height and the looks of a cool dude, but at heart was the softest, kindest nerd Jack had ever met.

Shit. He’d missed more than just Chloe.

He sighed. So much for an early night. “Yeah. Come on over.” He gave his friend a few rudimentary directions since online maps hadn’t caught up to the new construction yet and went down to the living room, stacking a few haphazardly placed boxes against the walls to make walking room. In no time at all, he saw Drew’s old car pull up to the curb. His friend hopped out, surveying the raw landscaping and the surrounding town houses, then bounded up the stairs to the main floor with his trademark eagerness.

Jack met him at the door, getting a hearty, back-pounding hug as a greeting. “Dude,” Drew said enthusiastically. “This is epic!”

“Less epic inside, but it’s still pretty cool,” Jack said as they walked in. He waved at the various areas of the open-plan setup: dining area at one end, kitchen in the middle, living area at the other. “There’s another sort of den on the ground floor, and a one-car garage next to it. Upstairs are two bedrooms and bathrooms. That’s the tour.”

“Very cool.” His friend nodded as he turned in a slow circle, apparently unfazed by the boxes. “Marketing has been good to you, my friend!” Jack received another friendly knock to the shoulder, causing him to stumble sideways. Though he actually had about an inch on Drew in height, the other man was far more muscular. Where Drew had gone out for football, basketball had suited Jack’s long, lean frame.

“It has.” Professionally, at least. It cost him the person he was still pretty sure was the love of his life, though.

“What’re you so down about then? I thought you were excited to be back in the old stomping grounds.”

“I am.” Jack went to the fridge and pulled out two beers, then spent what seemed like an age trying to find an opener in the hastily unpacked drawers. When he located this essential item and opened the two bottles, he saw his friend regarding him steadily.

Waiting for a real answer.