We’re getting close to Christmas and I thought I would swing by and check on my two leading characters from Naked Alliances, Richard Noggin, P.I. and Brandi, an exotic dancer. When I left them around the end of October, they were dining at Harbor Lights restaurant admiring the yachts moored on Tampa Bay.
Richard’s gay neighbors, Dave and Steve, decorated the palm tree in their front yard. I’d like to point out why palm trees don’t make good Christmas trees down here in Florida.
~~~
Brandi knocked at the door of the coral pink cottage in Thornton Park, her military-green canvas messenger bag slung over her shoulder. She rested the fir tree against a post. Richard opened the door in his boxers with a beer in his hand. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Who were you expecting? The date who likely stormed out when you undressed?”
“What’s the tree for? I don’t do Christmas.”
“This year you are.” She hugged the tree, pushing her way through the door. “I could use some help with this thing.”
“I’m allergic,” he said.
“And I’m not backing down. You’ve spent a week, since our four week vacation at the Lagoon, shut up in this house feeling sorry for yourself and we’re going to have Christmas.” Propping the tree against the living room window, she pulled back the blinds, went out onto the porch, lifted a cardboard box, and returned to the living room. “This is Christmas stuff I borrowed from the Parliament House.”
“Oh great, bobbles made from boa feathers and glittered, butterfly eyelashes.”
“They’re shiny and sparkly.”
“So are Harley parts.”
“Don’t be such a spoil sport and grab yourself a few.” Standing the tree upright, she forced it into the stand she had brought with her.
Richard slugged back his last swallow of Miller Lite, set his can on the coffee table and reached into the box, pulling out a wrapped gift with his name on it. “Awww, you shouldn’t have done this.”
“You can open it now or put it under the tree.”
“I haven’t gotten a Christmas present in years.”
“It’s nothing, really, just a little something to lighten your mood.”
Richard tore into the paper, opened the box and grinned ear to ear. Snapping open the case, tears welled in his eyes. Trying not to blink, he reached into the case. “A golden Desert Eagle, 50 caliber, hand cannon, and she’s a pretty girl. This is too much.”
“I thought you might need a replacement for Desiree, since you had to feed her to the alligators. Do you really think that was necessary?”
“More than necessary.” Grabbing her around the neck, he pulled her close and kissed her cheek. “I did a bit of Christmas shopping for you, too.” He opened the coat closet door and pulled out a monstrous-sized bag from the Millennial Mall. “Haven’t had time to wrap it though.”
“You didn’t!”
“I did. I have to confess I didn’t know my way around the store, but I asked for the best.”
Brandi snatched the bag, looked inside and screamed. “It’s a leather, large-frame Prada tote. I’ve never owned a real purse before. It’s beautiful. For a guy who doesn’t do Christmas, you did it quite well.” She slung the bag onto her shoulder, pulled the purse close and sniffed it.
“It was the biggest they had and the lady tells me they’re quite fashionable. I know how you like to have all your necessaries with you, and they do come in handy.”
Brandi grabbed him around the neck and squeezed. He winced, but hugged her back as best he could.
“You’re the best boss ever!”
“Partner, the best partner.”
S.K. Nicholls 