A Billionaire Irish Christmas

Hunter was in a sour mood.

This was very concerning.

Hunter was never in a bad mood. Ellie had never known a sunnier disposition in her life. He sometimes came across as ditzy because he just seemed to love life so much. Some of her friends had called him a himbo before, but he was far more clever than he let on. She knew him well enough to know that, but she could definitely see how people thought so. A golden retriever personality, she'd also heard, and she couldn't really argue with that one.

Today, though, the golden retriever was sad, and it was just about as hard to see as a real golden retriever being sad.

"Hey, what's going on with you?" she finally worked up the courage to ask him, when there was a lull in the day. "You haven't made a stupid pun or cracked a single joke since you got in at 6 this morning. And you usually tell me a terrible pun first thing, especially if you're opening at 5 and I'm dragging myself in here like that one time Salmorejo had to go to the vet and I'd been up all night worrying."

She didn't mention that his ridiculous sense of humor had actually helped that day, and got her mind off Sal for a little while, until she could clock off and get back to the vet, who gave the cat a clean bill of health, to her relief. But it was Hunter's silliness that had helped her get through the day. She knew some people might interpret his behavior as insensitive, but sometimes when things were tough it was better not to focus intensely on them, as there was always time enough for stress and worry, which would have done nothing for her, or for Sal, or for anybody.

Hunter shook his head, folding napkins in a sort of erratic and busy way that made it clear he was very distracted. She gently took the pile away from him and looked him full in the face.

"Do you want to destroy the inventory or tell me what's going on?"

Hunter sighed. It was pretty dramatic. Ellie was taken aback. She'd never seen him like this.

"My family is coming to town for Christmas this year."

"Oh!" said Ellie. "That's great, I - oh. That's not great, is it."

Hunter rubbed his right eye with his hand in a fist.

"I mean. They mean well. I think? They're just...a lot. So all my plans this year aren't really going to pan out. I think I'm going to spend Christmas somewhere else."

"Well, we've still got a couple of months to go. I don't think the false summer is going to last, thank goodness."

"Yeah, I have no idea how the pumpkin spice lattes are gonna sell this year."

"Hunter. They sell every year. People love those things."

"Pumpkin iced latte. I shouldn't be biking home with the leaves turning and it's 85 degrees outside. It's just wrong."

"I hear that. But don't worry. The weather's gonna turn bad soon and we can bitch and moan about the slush instead."

"Not even sure there's gonna be a white Christmas at this rate," grumbled Hunter. "I think I'll go stay at the family cabin for Christmas, now that I think of it. There's always snow there, it's in the mountains, more or less."

"Won't they get angry about that?" asked Ellie. 

"Not if they don't know."

"Sounds kinda lonely to me," she told him. "You're going to spend the holidays up there all alone?"

"My family can be difficult."

"Well, if they're abusive, then I totally cosign your plan."

"No, not really, they're more just - really overbearing, a lot of expectations, a lot of rules and rule-following. I'm really not into any of that, and it's part of the reason I left and moved to the city instead."

"Gotcha. Still sounds lonely, though."

Hunter looked at her. Then he seemed to get a sudden eureka! kind of look to him, and Ellie held up a hand.

"Whoa, okay, what was that brilliant thought you just had?" she asked. "And am I going to regret asking?"

"I just thought, well, why don't you come with me?" he asked. "Then I wouldn't be alone for the holidays, and I know you were planning on staying in town this year."

"Don't you get enough of me at work, trivia nights, the beach?"

"Never," he said, and before she had even a moment to parse that comment, he went on, "Come onnnnn, Ellie! It'll be fun."

Well. Christmas at a cabin in the mountains did sound like fun, and her parents were going on a cruise this year, so there wouldn't be a family Christmas and Ellie had planned to stay in town to catch up on some reading, or so she claimed. She was probably just going to do some window shopping, Breakfast at Tiffany's style, because she was too broke to afford anything, but as Holly in that movie knew, it was fun to pretend to be somebody fancy who could just buy Tiffany on a whim. Although she wasn't sure if Tiffany was still considered elegant and high-end, or one of those things that the jet set deemed somewhat passé and tacky now. Those were the kinds of trends Ellie had never understood, only that when she'd happened across something like Armani in a Sally shop she always wondered if it would be so painfully out of style by that point that there was no reason to pick it up at all.

The vagaries of fashion and wealth were a complete mystery to her, although she did have the aspirational belief that maybe someday, she'd understand, because she'd find her way there, too.

Ellie was not a woman satisfied with life as a barista. Not to say there was anything wrong with those who preferred such a life, but it wasn't a permanent thing for her. No, she wanted more, which was part of the reason she'd moved to the city. Besides, if she ever wanted to visit Ireland in her lifetime, she needed money.

For now, though, this looked like the most travel and adventure that was likely in her reach for a good, long time ahead. If opportunity knocked, she may as well open the door.

"Let's just say, for the moment, that I say yes," she said, and at Hunter's overjoyed expression, she held up a hand again. "How long are we going to be gone, and who's going to run the shop?"

"Um. Mrs. Figgins, I assume."

Mrs. Figgins was their boss. She was a glamorous elite type of a lady, usually on yachts wearing sunglasses and the big floppy hats seen on exactly that kind of woman in films. In fact, Mrs. Figgins probably could and did buy Tiffany on a whim. If she was into that kind of thing.

"I don't think Mrs. Figgins is about to leave the yachts of Monte Carlo for the Christmas rush of the coffeeshop."

"First of all, it's not yachting season in Monte Carlo, and second of all, you're probably right in general. Well, there's always Linnie, she's been waiting for her opportunity."

Linnie had just graduated high school and picked up any spare shifts Hunter or Ellie had off, but she'd never run the entire store on her own, and certainly not during the holidays.

"Talk about trial by fire," said Ellie, but Hunter was already on his cellphone.

"Hi, Linnie? Yeah, me and Ellie are talking about taking off for Christmas, how would you like those two weeks? I can probably talk Mrs. Figgins into - "

There was joyful squealing on the other end of the line as he finished:

" - paying you time and a half overtime. Yes, I'm serious - yes! No, I won't take it back. Promise. Okay. Yeah. Starting on the 22nd, that's - yeah. Okay. Thanks a mil, Linnie. Bye."

Hunter swung his startled look around to Ellie.

"I think she's okay with it," he said.

That night, Ellie went home with a head full of dreams.

Salmorejo met her at the door and was as jubilant as any cat awaiting food poured into their dish, all purr and weaving around her ankles until the meal was served.

"You'd think I starved you with all this drama," said Ellie. "Did you know that Hunter invited me out to his family cabin for Christmas?"

Salmorejo was already wolfing down his food - or tiger-ing? since Sal was a cat - and paid her no mind.

"I wonder," she said aloud, opening the fridge and taking out the juice to pour herself a glass, since the weather forecast may be predicting colder weather, but it hadn't yet arrived by that evening, "is something else going on there? He's like my best friend in the world. Not sure about romance."

Salmorejo didn't respond, still completely absorbed by the task of eating. Ellie sighed and leaned against the counter.

"You're probably right," she said. "I should talk to Stacey or Sarah, maybe get some advice. Guys are hard to read. Sometimes, something like this is a grand gesture. Sometimes it's just a friend thing. Sometimes, it's just that the guy is an idiot who doesn't get how it would look to another person. And besides, even if he was looking for something more, I mean. There are easier ways, right? And would I even be interested in him that way?"

She stood very, very still.

"Would I be interested?" she repeated to herself then. 

She'd never really thought about it. Never really thought about him as an option.

And she was not about to start, unless she was about to start - 

Had he been thinking about her?

Ellie shook her head.

"Yeah. I'm gonna call Stacey."