THE HOLIDAY COLLECTION
Aaron Michaels
Published by Thunder Valley Press at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 by Aaron Michaels
www.aaron-michaels.com
Cover illustration Copyright Phil Mcdonald | Dreamstime.com
Cover layout by Thunder Valley Press
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
These stories are licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
(If you would like to jump directly to the story, just click on the title)
~ ~ ~
Christmas is my favorite holiday, so it's no wonder I enjoy writing stories set during the Christmas season. I also like writing stories about men finding romance in unexpected places.
Like a snowed-in Las Vegas airport.
I caught some flack after "Snowed In, Las Vegas Style" was first published by Torquere Press. People didn't think that a modern airport could be shut down by only three inches of snow. Well, the situation in that story is based on something that happened to a friend of mine a few years ago. She had to spend the night in Las Vegas because three inches of snow grounded all flights in or out of Las Vegas. Why? Well, the Las Vegas airport, being located in a desert, just didn't have the supplies or the equipment to deal with a true winter snowstorm. I remember seeing news reports of the snow falling on the palm trees lining The Strip. Very strange.
The second story in this collection, "It's Tradition," is also set in Las Vegas. I don't live there, but I've visited enough times that it's made an impression. I do have a music background, though, and I've been to enough uncomfortable holiday parties (haven't we all?) that I could easily imagine some poor guy forcing himself to go to his famous sister's party when he'd just rather be at home nursing a broken heart and wondering what the heck happened to his muse. "It's Tradition" was initially published by Torquere Press, but the story has been out of print until this collection.
I have to confess that I have a soft spot in my heart for The Sopranos. My love of mobster stories is directly responsible for my most successful series to date, WISEGUYS. I've written numerous stories featuring former wiseguys Tony and Carter and their adventures after a narrow escape from a mob hit designed to wipe out their crime family. The Wiseguys story in this collection -- "Wiseguys: Change in Plans" -- is new to this collection. You don't have to read any of the other stories in the series to enjoy "Change in Plans," but I hope you'll be intrigued enough to check out more of Tony and Carter's adventures.
This is my first collaboration with Thunder Valley Press. The fine folks at Thunder Valley will be publishing more of my backlist as well as brand new stories. More three-story collections like this one are in the works, as well as single stories. I'm thrilled to be working with them.
I'd like to take a moment to thank you, the reader, for giving this collection a try. I hope you enjoy the stories, but most of all, I wish you a happy holiday season.
--Aaron Michaels
December 10, 2011
~ ~ ~
Stuck in Vegas two days before Christmas. Because of snow. A measly three inches of snow.
Kevin Cole stared at the airline ticket agent. "What do you mean, the airport is closed? This is Vegas. Vegas never closes."
The young woman standing behind the check-in desk at the gate, whose name tag identified her as "Donna," wore a uniform that looked as wilted as her hair. She stared back at him, her professional smile tarnished a bit around the edges. No doubt she'd been dealing with complaints all night, but that didn't alleviate Kevin's problem. He was supposed to be in Portland for a meeting at ten the next morning, a little over fourteen hours from right now. Even if he rented a car, no way could he drive from Las Vegas to Portland in time for his meeting.
"Vegas never closes," Donna said, "but all out-going flight are grounded until the weather clears." She smiled a little wider. It had no effect on Kevin. "I'm sure it will all be cleared up tomorrow morning."
That wasn't going to help him any.
"So what now?" Kevin asked. He'd never been stuck in an airport before, not overnight. Especially not the Las Vegas airport. Between clusters of slot machines belting out Wheel! Of! Fortune! every fifteen seconds and the cheesy Christmas carols piped in throughout the terminal, Kevin was pretty sure he wouldn't get a wink of sleep all night. If he even could sleep on the uncomfortable chairs at the gate.
Donna handed him a piece of paper. "This is a list of hotels and motels that give our passengers a discounted rate for situations like this."
Had there ever been a situation like this? Since when did it snow in Las Vegas?
"Most of the hotels on this list have free shuttle service from the airport. Shuttle pick-up is by baggage claim. I'd call ahead to make a reservation, if I were you, just to be on the safe side, since everyone who had a flight out tonight will be stuck in town." Donna pointed at a number near the top of the page. "Give the hotel this code number when you call, and the hotel should honor our discount."
So the airline wouldn't even comp the whole cost of the room. Just great. Kevin did a quick mental tally of the credit cards in his wallet and the account receivables he expected before the end of the year. He could afford a room -- barely -- if he didn't go overboard.
"What if I don't want to pay for a room?" Kevin asked.
Her smile dimmed again. "You're always welcome to wait. The terminals will be open all night."
Great. Just fucking great.
Donna looked over Kevin's shoulder. "Next?" she called.
He was being dismissed.
Kevin blew out a deep breath and moved away from the desk by his gate. The gate where he was supposed to simply make his connecting flight on his trip from San Diego to Portland. Kevin preferred direct flights but since this had been a last minute trip to appease a touchy client, he'd had to take what he could get this close to Christmas. What he was getting now was a major headache and possibly a blown account.
He scanned the list of hotels. Some would be way out of his price range even with a discount. Other than the well-known names, like Caesar's Palace and the Bellagio, Kevin had no idea what might be a good choice and what would be a dive. At least he only had a carry-on bag. He didn't want to think about trying to be his luggage off a grounded plane.
"You getting a room?"
Kevin looked up from the list to see another businessman with a similar list in his hand.
"Thinking about it," Kevin said. "You?"
The guy gave him a what can you do? lopsided grin. "It's either that or camp out in a casino all night. I think a room might be cheaper, given the luck I've had so far."
The guy wasn't classically handsome. His nose was a little on the big side, his forehead had a few too many worry lines, and his lips were thin. But his eyes were a deep, soulful brown surrounded by thick lashes, he had a dimple in the center of his chin, and the grin gave him dimples in his cheeks, too. He wasn't Kevin's usual fantasy type -- blonde and blue-eyed and fair-skinned -- but he was tall and slender, with a hint of an athlete's body beneath his business suit.
Kevin was tired and frustrated, and he thought about cutting the conversation short. He needed to call and leave a message for his client. He needed to get a decent dinner, which he'd skipped since his connecting flight from San Diego had been late due to the weather and Kevin had run across what seemed like half the airport trying to make a flight he didn't know was grounded. Given that sweaty run, he could probably use a shower.
Still, if he was going to be stuck in Vegas overnight, he could use a little company. Lord knew, he had little enough company at home these days.
"I know what you mean, with the luck thing," Kevin said. "Were you on the flight to Portland?"
The guy shook his head. "Nope. San Jose."
"You could probably rent a car and drive."
The guy chuckled. "I don't think so, even if I could find a rental. Have you taken a good look outside lately?"
Like almost every airport Kevin had ever been in, the terminals in Las Vegas had huge windows. He hadn't paid much attention to the weather on the other side of the plate glass beyond noting that it was snowing. Kevin had grown up in Colorado, where snowfall was measured in feet, not inches. While he hadn't seen much in the way of snow since he'd moved to Southern California, a few inches of the white stuff wasn't such a big deal. Usually.
He looked through the terminal window now and blinked. It looked like a regular, mid-winter snowstorm outside. Big, thick flakes fell steadily, illuminated by the lights on the tarmac. It reminded Kevin of the inside of a snow globe. He couldn't tell if any of the snow was sticking to the asphalt, but the cold air outside was fogging up the inside of the windows.
"I'm a California boy these days," the businessman said. "Been a long time since I've tried to drive on snow and ice. I rent a car tonight, and I'll end up in a ditch or a hospital. I'd rather just wait for the next flight out."
"I hear you there," Kevin said, just to be sociable. He'd always been a good bad-weather driver. The problem was the other people on the road. Who knew how Vegas-ites handled driving in the snow? "Guess it's down to the shuttles, then. See what I can find."
"Mind if I join you?" the guy asked.
"No problem." Kevin folded up the piece of paper the ticket agent had given him and put it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Kevin Cole," he said, holding out his hand.
"Lee Kaminsky," the guy said, shaking Kevin's hand.
Why did that name seem familiar? Kevin had a good head for names and faces. He had to. In his line of work -- on-site sales and troubleshooting for document control software utilized by some of the largest law firms on the West Coast -- his clients all expected personal, friendly service. For what the software cost, they had every reason to expect it.
"Do you work in the legal field?" Kevin asked as they headed toward baggage claim and the shuttle service beyond.
Lee chuckled. "Why? Do I look like a lawyer?"
Kevin wasn't quite sure how to answer that. "Well..."
"My mother always said I should become a lawyer. I had the look for it. I was never sure whether to take that as a compliment."
They reached one of the people movers, the things that always reminded Kevin of escalators without steps. He took them when he was tired, walked alongside when he wasn't. After his run to make the gate and the subsequent frustration of his canceled flight, Kevin was content to let the people mover move him. He stepped onto the moving grid. Lee got on after him.
"So what do you do, if you don't mind me asking?" Kevin said.
The terminal wasn't all that crowded, and no one seemed to be in a hurry. Instead of staying single file to allow people who speed-walked on the people mover, Lee moved up next to Kevin.
"Not at all." Lee took his hand off the hand-rail, reached into his suit pocket, and pulled out a plain, white business card for Summit Mortuary in San Diego. Lee's name was printed in the same simple embossed typeface as the mortuary name, address, and phone number.
"You're a mortician?" Kevin asked, surprised.
Lee inclined his head, a slight movement. "Guilty as charged."
"Wow. I've never met a mortician before." Kevin's parents were divorced and living on opposite sides of the country, but they were both still alive. So were most of the close friends he'd had over the last couple of year. Given the toll AIDS had taken among gay men, Kevin counted himself lucky.
Lee smiled again. "Oh, we're really not all that unusual, and they do let us out occasionally among the general population."
Kevin felt his cheeks heat up. "I didn't mean it that way."
"Relax." Lee gave Kevin a friendly clap on the shoulder. "I'm used to almost every reaction you can think of. It would be nothing compared to my mother's when I told her my career plans."
"She really pushed the lawyer thing, right?"
"Told me if I wasn't going to become a lawyer, I should marry a lawyer. Not likely, not in this climate, but a mother can always hope."
They'd reached the end of the people mover. Kevin had to step off before he could fully process what Lee had just said.
Kevin had never been one of those gay men who could spot other gay men, except the truly obvious flamboyant queens. It shouldn't have come as such a surprise the Lee was gay. He was probably better at recognizing Kevin's preferences than the occasional woman who hit on Kevin whenever he went out with clients for lunch or a drink after work.
They stepped on the next people mover almost in unison. The moving grid took them past brightly-lit displays for shows in the various casinos and lounges around town. One well-lit, larger-than-life display advertised Thunder Down Under, complete with the muscular dancers wearing little more than a black satin bow tie and a smile.
"Well, there's one way to pass the time," Lee said, his eyes on the ad.
The remark erased any doubts Kevin had regarding Lee's preferences. Kevin wondered whether Lee had any doubts about his. Lee could have struck up a conversation with him just because Lee recognized that Kevin was gay. Kevin didn't advertise, but he didn't go to any great lengths to hide, either. Not anymore.
"Too many women in the audience," Kevin said, taking the plunge himself. "I went to one of their shows once, and once was enough."
"That bad?"
"Women can be shameless. Especially women in groups, who've all had too much to drink." Or women who didn't drink. One certain woman came to mind. Kevin tried to put her out of his mind as soon as her face floated through his thoughts. "Say," he said to Lee. "You feel like grabbing something to eat? I haven't had dinner yet."
Lee hesitated only a moment. It was long enough to make Kevin wonder if he'd misread the entire situation, but then Lee said, "Sounds like a great plan."
The people mover dumped them off, and they followed the signs toward baggage claim. Clusters of slot machines were still belting out Wheel! Of! Fortune! at distressingly regular intervals and cheesy Christmas carols still poured out from hidden speakers, but Kevin didn't feel quite so frustrated anymore. He might be stuck overnight in a town he didn't want to be in, with the prospect of missing a meeting with the Dragon Lady, otherwise known as the office manager for Yates, Kilgore, and Howard, but for right now? Right now, he'd be having dinner with a good-looking guy -- a good-looking gay guy -- and that was far better than anything waiting for him either in San Diego or in Portland.
Maybe his luck was changing, after all.
***
Instead of going to a hotel on the Strip, at Lee's suggestion they decided to take a cab to the Palace Station Hotel and Casino on Sahara. Kevin called from the airport just to make sure he could book a room. The hotel had a few vacancies, so Kevin nabbed one using the airline code, which got him a fairly decent discount.
Lee didn't reserve a room, and Kevin didn't ask why. It really wasn't any of his business if the man decided to gamble his night away and sleep on his flight to San Jose. Kevin couldn't afford to do that. He needed to be awake to talk to the Dragon Lady and explain why he was missing their meeting. No doubt he would get an earful about how many billable hours the firm would miss because his software was malfunctioning.
While the problems Yates, Kilgore, and Howard were having crunching the documents the program managed could be software related, Kevin had a sneaking suspicion the issue was operator error. This would make his third troubleshooting trip to the Portland firm in six months. Unless the partners decided to transfer the vapid soon-to-be trophy wife of the senior partner from her undeserved position as Document Control Manager, it wouldn't be his last.
Yet another woman screwing with his life. Kevin tried hard not to distrust women as a gender, but some women made that difficult.
"Would you look at that," Lee said. "I never thought I'd see snow-covered palm trees."
Kevin had to agree that the sight of snow falling on the glitz and glitter of the Vegas Strip was surreal. The casinos blazed bright in the drifting snow, neon and about a billion light bulbs all frosted with white. The cab driver had the windshield wipers going, a steady beat across the window, and the heater on. Kevin wondered if the guy had ever used the heater before. The cab had the dusty smell he remembered from his childhood in Colorado, that "autumn's here" smell the house used to get when his mother turned the furnace on for the first time after the leaves started changing color.
"It will be gone by tomorrow," the cab driver said. "I heard it on the radio. All this should be gone tomorrow."
The cab driver had some type of non-native accent that Kevin couldn't place. Still, Kevin heard more than a note of wishful thinking in the cab driver's voice. He supposed if he was in the guy's place -- not only having to drive on slick roads with a lot of other drivers who wouldn't know how to handle their cars in snow, but losing business because people wouldn't go out in the stuff -- he might be hoping the storm would end soon, too. At least the cab driver seemed to know what he was doing, even if he drove a little faster than Kevin might have wanted.